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#damn I wish I wrote shit down more often
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Avatar/lunar chronicles crossover where zuko is cinder hiding in the water tribes after he was banished from the fire nation.
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allurilove · 5 months
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Yandere Classmate x you
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Rated 18 + — mature short content !
Includes: Headcanons of stalking, obsessive behavior, unhinged man lowkey, sexual fantasies, perverted and lewd behavior, stealing, male masturbation, gender neutral reader, grumpy x sunshine,
*He has no name, and is only referred to as “your classmate” his only existence is to be obsessed with the reader, and without you, he ceases to exist. This yandere classmate is different from the other one I have wrote about. Here is the second part! This is purely fictional writing!*
Synopsis: You wish on a shooting star for a boyfriend. Your classmate has an unhealthy obsession with you, he’s almost entranced, and he follows you around like a lost puppy. He doesn’t know what you have done to him, but he won’t let you go. No, he’ll hunt you down and make sure you’ll stay with him forever.
When you wished to be in a relationship with a man that was utterly obsessed with you— joking or not joking— the universe heard you loud and clear.
It was like he was here on earth just to be with you. Every single part of his body was screaming, clawing, and dragging his feet towards you. It was hard to get close, and near damn annoying that you were surrounded by your friends all the time.
Your classmate was entranced the moment you walked past him, and whenever you did and he heard your sweet laugh… his legs immediately made him get up from his spot to follow you.
You were just the sweetest being he has ever seen. Always nice and kind to others, even if they didn’t deserve it. He felt like he had a responsibility to protect you from assholes that would take advantage of you.
He began to follow you around. Listening in to your conversations, and he would take mental notes of what would make you laugh. He was determined to make you smile, to make you laugh harder than that fool in front of you.
He gave up on his education to pursue you. I mean he was learning… just happened to skip some of his classes to sneak into yours. You were a more interesting subject anyways. He would sit somewhat far away, and switch it up every time. He didn’t want you to notice him, not yet anyways.
Your classmate really wanted to sit next you, or maybe offer to buy you lunch. When you went to the bathroom, and left your cup on the table, there was a faint lip mark on it. He gulped, his hand slowly reaching for it. If he couldn’t kiss you soon, this was the next best thing. He pressed his lips where yours were previously, his tongue flicking the rim. He savored your saliva, and out of adrenaline he decided to keep the cup all together.
Whenever you were gone, or didn’t come to school that day, he had to visit your locker. It was after gym class, and no one was around as he leaned in to sniff at the little vents. Your scent had been brewing in there for a couple of hours, and he groaned.
He desperately tried to lap up every scent — he inhaled and licked the air— his hands palming the tent in his shorts. If only he knew your locker combination.
Your classmate pulled his shorts down, and his boxers followed suit. He finally freed himself from his confinements, and he rubbed his hand up and down his length. He masturbated at the thought of you often. He only needed an image of you, a scent, or an item of yours. Either way, his dick would be in his hands, twitching and cumming.
When he wasn’t stalking you and literally trying to learn everything about you, he took the liberty to primp himself. He wanted to look good for you after all. He would wake up early, shave and even wax his body clean of body hair, cut his nails, and do shit to his cuticles. He went to the barbershop and got a new hair cut, and made sure his face was clean and shaven. If that wasn’t your thing he would grow it all out.
He was a bit hesitant to do much with his lower body. But he sucked it up and made sure to trim down there too. He wasn’t used to shaving, and had to buy a couple of bandaids. A sanrio bandaid near his crotch.
And he realized he was deeply out of shape. Shit. When you were running on the tracks, so was he. He had to hold his breath to hide his deep and hard breathing. He soon found out he shouldn’t have done that.
You came over to him after he briefly passed out cold on the ground. He slowly opened his eyes, and you came into the view, and he saw a tiny bit up your shorts. That was enough for him to go into a frenzy.
He bought all of the fruits he could find, he read on the internet that the best way to eat someone out, and practice, was to use fruit. The peaches juices were dripping down his neck as he continued to tongue, and devour the hole. He imagined that he was on the ground and you were sitting on his face, his arms would lock you down onto him, making you put your full weight on him. Suffocate him for all he cares, he just wanted to hear you say his name. Or at least acknowledge that he exists.
He isn’t popular like you are, but he has his own group of friends. And by friends, he means your siblings. The only natural way to get close to you, was through your family after all. Plus, if you two were to get married, he already had an in with the family.
It also meant he could see your room. He snuck away for a minute to examine where you slept. He slowly knelt down, his hips aligned with corner of the mattress, and he digs his face into your sheets. His hands gripped the soft plush of your blanket, his cock rubbing against the corner. He whined as wanted more, he just wanted to bury himself deep inside you, and feel your warmth around him. He bets that it would feel like heaven.
Your classmate quickly retracted as he felt a tiny wet spot growing on his pants, his face flushed as he sat back down onto his ass. When he does so, his hands land on a piece of fabric. Out of instinct his hands curl around it and he picked it up, he inspected it and his eyes widens. Your underwear. In his hand.
His hand was tightly gripped around his mouth and the other was around his cock. His back was arched and he locked himself away in your bathroom. He loved the feeling of your underwear rubbing on his tip, and his hips snapped against his hand. He closed his eyes and he imagined you were giving him a handjob instead. Fuck, he just needed to smell you instead. He smelled your underwear, as he climaxed, his cum dribbling on the floor.
When you applied for college, he did too. He found out every single one you wanted to go to from your siblings. He got waitlisted. You got accepted. It wasn’t even a straight up rejection, it wasn’t a yes, and it was just a damn maybe.
He winced, his eyes almost closing as he smiled for the picture. It turned out alright and he paid the fee. A couple of months later, he got his passport in the mail. He booked his flight, and he lied right to your face. He convinced you to get an apartment with him instead of going to a dorm, and he followed you around campus, even though he doesnt have a single class there.
Allure: This is a bit of a different format from how I usually write, and idk how to feel about it lol! Here’s the c.ai link: https://share.character.ai/Wv9R/ondwnvhr
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stars4ani · 7 months
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nsfw 18+
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(i was picturing s1 rafe as i wrote this cos he’s so underrated)
rafe cameron is extremely short tempered, and jealous, especially when it comes to you..
you’re clinging onto his bicep and leaning your head on his shoulder, curled up next to him as he deals drugs.
“this is the- the best fuckin’ yayo around,” he’s telling the guys seated in front of him, “and it’s a damn good deal too, c’mon.”
you get stares from the people mingling in the same area, as you often do when you’re clung onto rafe. you’re known for being harmless, innocent even, so it always shocks people to see you with someone so… mean.
but rafe sees you as the sweetest thing ever, he always feels a need to protect you, especially from the very people he works with. when he notices one of the guys looking at you for a little too long, he pulls your shirt up to cover your cleavage and leans forward towards him.
“y’know what, no deal.” he scoffs and grabs you by the arm, pulling you into the closest bedroom he could find.
“calm down rafe!” you giggle, you know how he gets when he’s jealous, as tough and cold as he is, he still needs the reassurance that you’re all his. the soft kisses he leaves on your neck grow more desperate as he bunches your hair into a makeshift ponytail, pulling your head back as he trails down your collarbones.
“rafe- someone could open the door any second and see.” you squirm slightly, putting your hands on his chest to create some distance.
“let them see baby, you’re lucky i didn’t fuck you in front of ‘em.” he chuckles dismissively, backing you up towards the bed and pushing you down softly. you don’t even know what to say, blushing at your boyfriends dirty words.
“yeah, you know you like that shit, what would your friends think huh?”
you grow slick, he’s right, you did like the way he spoke to you, the way he treated you in the bedroom was so different in comparison to the way he usually treated you.
with your legs wrapped around his waist pulling him closer, he’s impossibly deep inside of your fluttering walls. his big hands on your shoulders, almost covering them completely while his grip doesn’t seem to falter, strong arms never getting tired. you let out small gasps as he brings his hand down to your lower stomach, pushing down before he lets his thumb circle your puffy clit. your whines grow more desperate, moving your hips up to meet his as you get closer.
“wish he could- fuck- wish he could see you like this right now.” he pants, mind still stuck on the guy from earlier, thrusts remaining consistent.
“stop- stop talking- mmph- stop talking about him rafe,” your voice is shaky, you’re barely able to form a coherent thought in your head, “i’m all yours, okay?” you reassure.
that’s enough to push him over the edge, spilling inside of you. he pulls out and uses his fingers to push his cum back inside of you, pulling up your panties and giving your fucked out cunt a light tap. you shiver and shoot him a confused glance. he puts his clothes on, urging you to do the same before walking back out with a hand on the small of your back.
“gotta mark what’s mine baby.”
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tidalgeode · 4 months
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I think they should fall into the river and drown (im insane about these damn old men....) Anyway i drew this for a little thing I wrote, its under the read more !! shout out to my friends for proofreading it we got rid of like 10 'he would's
It was the ass-crack of dawn, as Clef often put it. They had left around 5 minutes ago, while it was still dark. Now, the dawn light was scattered through the leaves. The rushing water became audible as he and Kondraki's footsteps crushed the excessive undergrowth along the old path. Clef mourned their timing, gazing at the barren blackberry bushes that littered the entire forest.
“Couldn't we have gone in summer?” he asked, hands in his pockets as he carefully stepped down from a large rock.
“As if either of us were available. Fishing's better in fall anyway”
Kondraki, at this point in the trip, had long since given up trying to make the shorter man shut his trap. He just wanted to get to the water faster,  not wanting to miss the small window of time when the fish are most active. The river wasn't far, but trekking through the overgrowth was taking longer than expected.
Kondraki wished he had brought a machete, becoming irritated at the amount of times his fishing pole became stuck in passing bushes, despite his best efforts.
“If you don't catch a massive fucking fish bigger than the creel I'm gonna be disappointed, Konny.” They crossed through the last narrow clearing in the brush, finally able to see the river. Now walking on gravel, Kondraki took the lead and walked over to a jutting mass of rock close to the mouth of the creek. He placed his rod against it as he climbed on top and opened a pocket in his vest. Finding a flat enough section of the rock, Clef sat and pulled out a spoon from the creel. “Gimme the end of your line.”
“Excuse me? Like hell I'm letting you choose a lure for me. I thought I already had a-” He squinted as he looked for the end of the line, with no hook to be found. “Oh, motherfucker.”
“Must have gotten lost.” Clef said, sporting a shit-eating grin. ”I like this one, lemme tie it for you.“ He showed off the spoon, it was neon and spotted like a more garish trout.
“No.”
“Come on, I know just as well as you do how to tie a knot.”
“Knowing you, your stench is gonna kill the damn fish.”
“Don't they have a good sense of smell? Call it an improvement. I bet they'd love it.“
”Know what, maybe you're right. It'd make sense if the only thing that could be attracted to you is a fish.“
Kondraki grabbed the line and found his way to the end of it, flicking up the bail to allow it to extend further and handed it off to Clef.
”What does that say about you then?“ Clef said, taking the line and delicately tying the spoon on with a tight knot.
”It says nothing, because you're the ugliest man I've had the displeasure of knowing.“
”You're so sweet, I try.“
”Shut the fuck up before I throw your ass into the river.“
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I think the one thing I most missed from season 2 was - I just wish Ed had gotten a nice little cathartic moment (something in the vein of everyone validating Stede as a proper captain in s1e9), where he got just any sympathy.
I am quite sure that had this season not been so heavily cut down for time, it probably wouldn't have come across as so harsh to him. OFMD is at its core a very kind show, and we're shown over and over again throughout the season how loved Ed is, even if he can't quite see it himself. And it makes sense that the writers, who wrote Ed as loveable and sympathetic, probably wouldn't have felt this as necessary, especially given that Ed gets a nice cathartic apology from Izzy that amounts to "hey sorry for abusing you for years" at the end of the show.
But up until that point, it often could feel that Ed just cannot catch a fucking break and he gets treated like an unpredictable wild animal. The Kraken crew blame him for everything - they of course have every right to be angry with him, but it often feels unfair because of the lack of context and it feeling like Izzy gets all the sympathy when Ed's afforded none. The thing that still sits most poorly with me is how Ed was chained to the railing when he couldn't even hold his head up and was in extremely obvious pain. And even Stede can be a bit terse with him about all this shit (in a way that doesn't bother Ed because Stede clearly gets him and isn't blaming him, but the whole "when you stop doing insane things like shooting people's legs off" bit still fits the pattern). Why do Izzy's tears matter so much more than Ed's? Why does Ed's pain get so little sympathy?
And, again, I get it. All of these things make sense in-character. But, dammit, I just long for someone to take Ed's poor little face in their hands and say "hey sweetheart, yeah, some of that shit was really fucked up and unfair to you and you have every right to be angry on your own behalf." Because damn. Please give my baby some compassion.
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1800naveen · 6 days
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Until.
Wander.
Tamlin often wandered around the Spring Court. For a while, he lived in his beast form. He felt a sense of freedom in that form. He could run, run, run, and nobody would stop him. But now, he was walking in his fae form. A feeling of melancholy surrounded the Spring Court, which was brought to its knees by his former lover and fiancé, Feyre Archeron, who was now the High Lady of the Night Court and both mate and wife to his former friend and ally, Rhysand.
He had caused her pain so in return, she did the same to him. Manipulating and scheming to make this Court fall. His people were taken in by Tarquin, High Lord of the Summer Court and Tamlin was grateful for his generosity.
"Be happy, Feyre." were the last words he told her before helping her resurrect Rhysand from the dead. In return, she wrote Tamlin a letter.
"Thank you. I hope you find happiness too." It was a kind gesture. But could he find happiness? She was the one to ruin the damn court and drove his people away. Homes and nature burned to ashes by the armies of Hybern.
A part of him felt a twinge of guilt. He let this happen to his own home. He should've figured out something was wrong. He also knew that not all of the blame fell on his shoulders. The forefathers of his bloodline would be disappointed, that's for sure.
Especially his father.
He could hear the words coming from his mouth. "How could you have let this happen? Let a Mortal-Made Fae destroy this Court? An abomination of a High Lord. A failure that I have to call a son." Tamlin remembered how his brothers threatened to kill him if he wished to be a High Lord. "Remember this, dear brother. Remember these words when you wish to think of the words "High Lord"." Weylin, the second-born, had whispered to him after he snuck into Tamlin's room at the dead of night.
"If you dare to pursue being worthy. To be chosen by father. To be his heir to the Spring Court. We will put an end to you and make sure you never see the light of day again. Do you understand?" Cian, the first-born, spat out. Tamlin could hear the poison, the venom intertwining in his words. The boy he had once been only nodded. He didn't have much power back then but it feels like he doesn't have much power even now.
Cupping his hands into the stream, Tamlin splashed his face to stop thinking about those thoughts. A gentle breeze made his hair sway. It was now down to his mid-back as it was once before.
Conflicted.
That was the word to describe how Tamlin was feeling. Conflicted.
A part of him felt smug for being crowned High Lord when his brothers terrorized him about it.
A part of him was glad that Rhysand and his father killed his family but not his mother. She was the only one who he mourned.
Tamlin loved his mother and he knew that she loved him too but when his father, Taranis, was being a tyrannical piece of shit, she turned a blind eye. How could a mother do something like that to their own child? To their own son?
A sigh left his lips.
His brothers were right.
Perhaps they knew the future of him and what would happen to the Court.
And a part of him wished that his brothers had killed him. He wouldn't have to be burdened with the title and responsibilities of a High Lord. The Spring Court would still be thriving. He wouldn't have to go through all this pain. But maybe in another life, he would be a traveling minstrel. He would go around and sing songs, speak of poems, limericks, ballads, but most of all, he could play his fiddle to his heart's content. He would have his own group that he would call his family. A ragtag team of misfits.
His own family that would love him, flaws and all. A family that wouldn't leave him behind.
It had been a gift from his mother for his tenth birthday. He had to carve his name into the fiddle so that his brothers wouldn't take it from him. Luckily, they didn't break it or toss it away as it kept him from High Lord. But they did make fun of it. However, Tamlin didn't mind. He had more talent in his fingers than his brothers had in their entire body. Besides being warriors and strategists.
A door creaked open. It's been a while since Tamlin was in the manor. It was a mess, of course. He really needed to clean it up. Most of the mess was created by him when he felt his emotions all pent up. And the rest came from him neglecting the home.
Now or never, Tamlin got to work. In an attempt to tidy up the manor to the best of his abilities. This would take a while.
The living room and kitchen were the only things Tamlin cleaned up. Some other time, he would clean the upstairs.
A broken mirror was on the ground, facing down. Tamlin carefully picked it up so that he wouldn't cut himself. Half of the shattered mirror pieces are still laid on the ground. He would have to fix it later with paste. The other half of the mirror was intact, showing half of his face. He went to hang it up on the wall of the living room.
"You've changed." Tamlin spoke himself as he stared into the mirror. The light in his green eyes was dimmed. Sadness and loneliness danced in his eyes in replacement.
A shell of a male.
He let his anger, frustration, and sadness consume him and he was now what people thought him of.
A beast.
A monster.
And a villain in the eyes of those he wronged.
He traveled far beyond the path of reason.
"What troubles you, Tam?" That voice. Tamlin hadn't heard it since he died. Killed by the woman he once loved.
Andras.
Brown hair tied back, rich tanned skin, and eyes the color of amber that were filled with mischief. That used to be filled with mischief.
"It's been a long time, my friend." Tamlin turned to face Andras. He stood there as a spirit. Was he going mad to the point he could see ghosts?
"It has." Andras' eyes darted from place to place as he studied the manor. "And what the hell happened here?" "A long story." Tamlin replied. "Ah yes. A story that I'm aware of." That made him still.
"How?" His voice was hushed but the tone was filled with uneasiness. "I've been wandering around the Court ever since I was killed. Prythian too but I prefer to stay here." Tamlin needed to sit down. He stumbled to the couch, putting a hand to his head.
"My job was done when Feyre put an end to my life but deep down, I knew it wasn't. And I was right. Because here you are, all alone with nothing but your sunken Court." "Thanks for your kind words, Andras. I love to be reminded of that." "You're welcome!" A stupid grin grew on his face.
Oh, how Tamlin missed it.
"I don't know what to do. I don't know where to start." Tamlin muttered. "With what?" "With everything." He fell back, hitting the cushions. Andras didn't say a word but walked up to Tamlin, helping him sit back up. "How are you touching me?" "Don't question it. Let me help." Oh, he hated those words. Tamlin never liked getting people's help. He believed that he could do almost anything on his own. It was one of his flaws; his hubris.
"Tell me everything. What happened?" Andras' face showed gentleness. "I thought you knew." "I know half. I did say that I wander around Prythian, not just the Spring Court."
Tamlin rolled his eyes but still, he told Andras everything. Under The Mountain, him locking Feyre up in what he thought was protection, becoming a double spy for Hybern, Feyre dismantling the Court, Feyre and Lucien leaving together, Tarquin taking in his people, Hybern's armies bringing damage to both Spring and Summer, the war, helping Feyre bring Rhysand back to life, and finally, Rhysand coming to mock him during Solstice.
A wince came from Andras. "That's rough, buddy." "Indeed." Now annoyed, Tamlin stared off into the distance. None of the males said a word to each other. Only let the silence fill the air.
A clock ticked calmly. Like a metronome.
"Tam, listen to me." Tamlin slowly turned his head to Andras, waiting for whatever Andras was going to say.
"Do you remember when you were crowned High Lord?" How could he not remember? He could still recall the memory, even though it had been centuries.
"May the Mother bless you and the Spring Court. All hail Tamlin Lysander, High Lord of the Spring Court!" Ianthe, his former childhood friend was the one to crown him.
All hail Tamlin, High Lord of Ruin.
Since that day, he knew that no amount of self-sought fury would bring back the glory of innocence.
"I do. And what does my coronation have to do with anything?" "Being a High Lord, you're in charge of the land and have duties to do. You're in charge of Spring. The land that is ever-changing." That was false though. The Seasonal Courts were in a permanent state of the season it represents. Mother, he sounded like a smartass.
"Spring is a new beginning. A new transformation. Staring over and staring anew." "What are you getting at?" Tamlin was starting to tire.
"What I'm saying is, you are the High Lord of the Spring Court. You are the land and the magic. You are Spring. So act like it." Tamlin raised an eyebrow.
"When flora begins to bloom, bloom alongside with it. When the light shines upon, shine and burn bright. When something new is planted, take root and grow. Change has always been and will always be possible. We cannot fix our past mistakes but we can reflect back on it, see what we have done wrong, acknowledge it, and grow." Andras took Tamlin's hand into his.
"To grow is to be reborn. To live is to suffer but to love as well. You are so much more than your fears. Than your anxieties, your anger, and your sadness." Woe climbed Tamlin like a ladder, tears threatened to fall but he wouldn't let them. He never did like to cry in front of people but with Andras, maybe it would be alright.
"You were the poet of us three but it didn't mean I couldn't pick up a few things." Andras shot a wink. Tamlin chuckled, the tears going back into the depths. Him, Lucien, and Andras. The death of their dear friend was hard on the both of them but mostly on Lucien.
He viewed him as his younger brother even though Andras was the second oldest; Tamlin being the eldest and Lucien being the youngest.
"I promise you this," Andras' grip got tighter. "I won't pass on until you are better. Until our home is better. I refuse to leave you until that smile of yours returns, until the light in your eyes is radiant like an emerald once more. I will not give up on you, so don't give up on me." "Thank you, Andras...Thank you." Tamlin whispered the last thanks, almost like a prayer. His head fell onto Andras' shoulder and his arms wrapped around like a snake.
He wanted to get better. He wanted to be better. He would get better, be better than the male he once was.
"Walk with me." Tamlin lend out a hand for Andras to take. Both of the males' hands clasped together.
They headed outside.
Birds chirped here and there. Woodland creatures scurried on the grass. The air was calm and chill. The sun was being to set which let the sky a beautiful orange, red, and purple.
Tamlin and Andras' hands were still intertwined. His thumb moved up and down softly, soothing on the High Lord's hand. Almost like a lullaby.
510 years, Tamlin had been alive. His childhood was one no child should ever have. He only had a few friends as making friends was a difficult task. Rhysand then came to mind. He remembered how Rhysand would find him everytime he had time to. He taught him fighting techniques that were native to Illyrians. They ate, drank, hunted, trained, laughed, and fought together. He even made wrote him letters, poems, and limericks. A memory played in his mind where the two were away from the war camps. Tamlin was resting on a tree as he played the fiddle and Rhysand rested his head upon his lap. Not that he minded. It didn't mean anything.
But their fathers ruined it and for what? A insipid rivalry?
Inside of him, Tamlin felt a small sense of hope that one day, they would reconcile. He was a fool to think it.
Rhysand was a winged insect (quite literally) while Tamlin was a funeral pyre. Sadness and anger crackled and twisted like flames within him.
A deep breath in and a deep breath out. Tamlin felt a heavy weight lift from his chest. Something in him stirred. Feelings and emotions.
Not the negative ones he grown accustom to but something new.
Hope.
It was the breath of fresh air that he needed.
Out of all of the Seasonal Courts, Tamlin assumed Spring wasn't all that important compared to Winter, Autumn, and especially Summer. But he was wrong.
Spring was life coming back into the lands and blossoming hope all around.
Summer, in many eyes, was the best season. A season of light, warmth, adventure, and happiness. But when Summer retreated, Autumn took its place. Leaves began to fall and colors changed from bright to dark, the temperatures cooled down and people would soon harvest for Winter was coming.
With Winter, brought the death of nature. The most deadliest season of them all. The night-darkness, would come earlier than before. Many things would come to an end but it wouldn't be forever. Celebrations would be held during the season; for family, for loved ones, for surviving another terrible winter, and a new year approaching.
And with this new year, things would change yet again. The snow will melt, the ice will thaw, and winter would bow as Spring came into blossom.
"For you." Tamlin broke from his thoughts to see Andras holding a rose in his hands. "Be careful of the thorns." He took the rose without worry. Not fearing if thorns would cut him.
"I love you, thorns and all." were the words he once said to Feyre. Who would he say the words to now? He had no lover. But he had himself.
"I love you, thorns and all." Tamlin said to himself, in the back of his mind.
He was not a monster.
He was no villain.
And until that day comes when he could prove it, he would work and work.
He would not spend his immortality in rage.
He would not let anger consume him, control him.
Until the light in his eyes shined brighter than a thousand suns.
Until he could love himself.
Until the day that he could look into a mirror, smile, and know that he was a lovely reminder of how beautiful change could be.
Until he was the true High Lord of the Spring Court once again.
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(This is my first writing piece that I've shown people so I hope you'll enjoy or like it. His family never got names so these are my names for them. Lysander just fits Tamlin; It means "Liberator" or "Freedom".)
(THIS FEELS LIKE SHIT, UGH!!)
(Wait, would this be a Tamlin X Andras? I swear I didn't mean for that. AND YES, I REFERENCED TAKE ME BACK TO EDEN! IT'S A KICKASS SONG!)
@viktoriaashleyyx here's that add, hope you like it👍🏾
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illarian-rambling · 2 months
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@davycoquette with the fun question games again!
Get to Know the Writblr
Gonna put this under a cut because it got long, but feel free to treat this as an open tag if you want to hop on!
On the Tumblr Writing Community:
How long have you had your writing Tumblr/Writeblr?
Since the beginning of the year, maybe? Sometime in February, I think.
What led you to create it?
I was feeling pretty lonely having no one to talk to about my writing. None of my real-life friends are writers and I'm really terrible at expressing my interests verbally, so I figured online might be the place to go. So far, I've been right!
What’s your favorite thing about the Writeblr community?
Oh, the people, for sure. It's incredibly rare that I come across anyone being less than supportive on here. No matter our skill level, I really feel like every writer on here has a sense of being in this shit together.
What’s one thing you’d like your mutuals to know about you?
Hmmm.... I'm pretty open about sharing things about myself, so idk if there's anything major I haven't touched on yet. I wake up at 4am every morning for work, so if you see me posting at an egregious time, that's why. Also, if you ever want martial arts tips for your fight scenes, I'm your gal!
Is there anything you’d like to see more of on your dash?
I love it when people make memes of their ocs. Makes me giggle every time.
What tips/advice do you have for someone who made a Writeblr today?
You gotta interact with people. I know it can be scary, but even a reblog with no tags can make another writer smile. Chances also are, if you leave a nice comment on someone's work, they might check you out and leave a nice comment on yours! A community isn't a community unless you go out and commune :)
WIP it Good:
Which Works-in-Progress (WIPs) or writing projects are you noodling about, lately?
Lately, I've been juggling writing my first draft of Mortal God book 3 (tentatively title being The Machinations of Machine and Man) and going over @kaylinalexanderbooks lovely comments on MG1. My ghost ship project is also on a low simmer in the back of my brain, but I'm trying to leave that until I'm done with MG3.
How long have you been working on them?
Good lord, I started MG1 about... almost two years ago now? Damn, it feels like it's been so much longer. But hey, three book drafts in two years ain't bad! Honor's Outcasts, which is largely written by now, I started about three years ago.
Do you remember what inspired them/what got you started?
The two main characters of MG started as a vague daydream, which then became two important dnd npcs along with MG's main villain. I ended up liking them all so much that I wrote a short story which became *drumroll* three entire books! A lot of my inspiration came from Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood and the Foundryside Trilogy of books. I can't think of anyone specifically who inspired the characters, except that Astra was originally based on the archetype of the silent wandering cowboy/samurai as seen in a lot of Kurosawa films and old westerns. For anyone familiar with her, uh, things changed quite a lot.
How much time, in your best estimation, do you spend thinking about them?
At least ten percent of my brain's storage is dedicated to my wips at all times. As for how often I'm actively thinking about them... it's also quite a lot.
When someone asks the dreaded, “What do you write about,” question, what do you usually say?
"Uh, fantasy stuff?" is my go-to.
What do you want to say (if it’s different from what you do say)?
I really wish I had the ability to explain my wips as succinctly with speech as I do with writing, but alas. I would want to give a nice, book jacket blurb that doesn't give away too much of the crazy shit.
Let’s Rotate Blorbos:
Name any characters you created.
I think I'm really good at names, so we're gonna go down the list!
Izjik Meautammera
Sepo Kaiacynthus
Twenari Undetasib/Devaris
Djek Kagura
Astra DuClaire
Mashal Darezsho
Ivander Montane
Elsind Cavernsight
Duchon Avymere Kalaphon Spearsong III
Faalgun Falani
Nyda Burningrock
Kaulakri Ondohuroata
Pashananath
Anarac Fifth-Blood
Who’s the most unhinged?
Unhinged in terms of violence? Sepo for sure. Unhindered in terms of sheer chaos? I'm gonna go with Izjik and Djek as a duo. Between both of their high charismas and low intelligences, along with their combined expertise in fighting and creative uses of magic, they're unbeatable.
Who comes the most naturally for you to write?
Probably Izjik. I've been writing in her POV for the longest.
Do you ever cringe at them?
Sometimes yeah, when they do something real stupid. But, then again, I did make them that way.
How much control do you feel you have over your characters?
I think I know my characters really well and base my plot around their motives, so there really isn't a huge need for control.
Do you enjoy people asking questions about your characters?
PLEASE!!! FEED ME ASKS! I'LL TAKE ANYTHING!
On Writeblr Engagement:
What makes you want to follow another Writeblr account?
Probably creativity. I've read a looooot of fantasy/sci-fi, so if you're doing something I've never seen before, I'll probably give you a follow.
What makes you decide against following?
Any kind of hateful rhetoric or someone who doesn't want 18+ interaction. Other than that, I think it's important to follow people who write different genres or have different methods than me.
Do you interact with non-mutuals often?
I wouldn't say so. I get a little shy doing that.
Do your mutuals’ characters occupy space in your noodle?
The characters of @kaylinalexanderbooks @mk-writes-stuff and @somethingclevermahogony all have a little place in my brain. Favorites from each include Robbie and Akash (not to be separated), Narul and Bop (love me a good living weapon/teddybear of a dude team-up), and Nellie and Stellaris (their earnest kindness makes my heart happy). If you haven't yet, you should go check out their stuff and see for yourself!
And with that, thanks for reading! Go out and have yourself a bitchin day <3
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filthy-baee · 2 years
Text
My favorite drug | Drugdealer!Eddie Munson x Cheerleader!Reader
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Summary: I just came here to the party for the drug(s)(dealer). Losely based on the song Drugs by UPSAHL.
Warnings: drugs, chocky!Eddie, smut, piv sex without protection (don´t do that shit or you will get pregnant...and die), subby!reader, kinda dom!eddie, choking, I surely forget something. Also this isn't proof read.
A/N: Damn, I don´t even remember when I last wrote a whole fanfiction. My other tumblr is pretty "big" with over 2000 followers, but I am kinda out of this fandom I wrote about, so I moved here with my writing. I hope you like it. Also english isn´t my first language so there will be some spelling and grammar errors - I am sorry!
You hated these parties. They were stupid and boring, just like the people who hosted them. The drugs were the only reason you even got here in the first place. To be honest, it was more the drugdealer that had your attention. You were both from totally different groups but every time you saw him your heart skipped a beat. You tried to talk with him as often as you could, even if he seemed surprised you did. Your friends always looked strange when you talked with him or were nice to him.
You couldn't explain it, but you had a massive crush on him actually. You were not sure if he will even come to this party but you hope he does. He has the best weed in town and most people in your age group take drugs, even if they would never admit it. So most of the time he is a welcome face at these kind of house parties.
„So you know, when school is over I will leave this shitplace and move states.“ You looked at the guy who talked with you, a small smile on your lips so you seemed interested. You nodded and took a sip from the beer in your hand. „Interesting.“ you lied and watched the people come and go through the door. The boy knew that you waited for someone, as he saw your eyes nearly glued to the front door, hoping to see the one you waited for. He came closer and said „Yeah well, I need to go now. Can I get a hug from you?“. You just shrugged your shoulders and gave him a quick hug. He smelled like awfully cheap cologne, beer and citrus. You hated the smell of citrus and your stomach turned at the smell. You padded his back and he removed his arms from you, getting the hint that the hug was over.
He waved at you, as he went through the door of the living room and disappeared from your sight. You waved back and took another sip from your beer. It was warm and tasted like shit actually. You don't even know why you drank that beer. You hated the taste of it, even if it would be cold. Also the feeling in your body from alcohol was just strange, you were more of a stoner. You walked around the house, you can't even remember who hosted this party. That's the good thing about being a cheerleader. You can you to any party and you are always welcome. You were on the search of a bathroom to calm down a little. Your body felt tense from the beer. As you walked around the house without any direction, you heard a familiar laugh. As you turned around you saw the reason you came here.
Eddie. Damn how can he look so fine? His leather jacket hugged his body perfectly and you let out the breath you didn't even know you were holding in. He makes you just so nervous. You fumbled with your fingers as you moved closer to him. He was talking with another cheerleader, but you didn't really know her that well. You just knew her name was Rebecca. She smiled at him as he gave her a small bag of weed. She gave him the money for the stuff and went away as fast as she could. You knew most people only talk with him, so they can get weed or other drugs. You hated these people. You wish they could see Eddie the way you see him.
“Hey Eddie.” You came closer to him and looked in his dark eyes. He smiled as he saw you. “Hey princess. What are you doing here? I thought you didn't like parties much?” Damn, he knew you. “Well I-” you started to speak as he watched you intensely. Your face grew redder every second, you could feel the blood rush in your cheeks. “Everything ok? You look a little red. Do you need some fresh air?” he asked and holds a hand to my forehead. “Damn. You are hot. I mean- your head is hot.” he stumbled around but was still smiling at you. He took your hand in his and pushed you through the front door. No one was around and you two were alone for the first time ever.
He still held your hand and Eddie lightly squeezed your hand. Your thighs rubbed involuntary together and you felt the familiar knot forming in your core. You felt so small compared to him. His broad shoulders and his dark features made your pussy clench around nothing. Eddie looked down at you and watched you intensely. “W-What?” you stammered and met his strong gaze. He smirks and rubs this thumb over your hand. “You are so cute. Do I make you flustered, Y/N? Now that we are alone?” You tried to appear calmer but you were so nervous. When he said such things it made you even wetter. You just nodded and bit your lower lip. He smirked, more to himself as to you. “Aw, the cute little cheerleader and the satanic freak, all alone in the dark. What if someone saw us like that? Me holding your cute little hand in mine, so close to each other?” Eddie stated and you gulped. He came even closer, your chests nearly touched. You squeezed his hand back and touched his broad chest with your other one. As he didn't pull away you came even closer. He pushed his leg between your thighs, nearly touching your wet core. He could feel the heat from between your legs.
Before you could say anything he tilted your head up by pushing your chin up to meet his gaze. A small whimper escaped your throat at his casual dominance.
"Can I kiss you?" Eddie asked and before you answered him you crushed your lips to his. Your hand disappeared in his dark locks and his hands pulled you closer by your waist. His rings were cold against your skin and you moaned in his mouth. He dipped his tongue in your mouth and fought with yours for dominance. But he won easily. You didn't wanna make it so easy for him but you were putty in his hands. He bit your tongue and you let out a long moan as the pain hit you. "Damn you like it hard, huh? I knew it. Thought about biting you every damn time I saw you in your tiny cheerleader skirt. Marking your thighs up with my bitemarks." he whispered as his hands roamed over your body, holding your breasts lightly. He felt your nipples harden under his touch.
He nibbled at your throat biting down hard. You gasped at this feeling, fisting his hair to keep you steady.
"You wanna go to my place, princess?" Eddie asked as he touched your nipples through your shirt. "Yes please!" you mumbled. He grinned and picked you up by your waist. You felt his hard dick against your core and you nearly fainted. This is the best outcome for tonight you could have ever imagined.
The drive to his trailer was silent as you squirmed around in your seat as his hand trailed up and down your thighs. You tried to push your legs together, your cunt dripping down on the seat as his fingers found your wet folds. His grip tightened around the steering wheel, knuckels turning white.
You finally arrived at his trailer. He unbuckled your seatbelt and his and was on you in seconds. "Get in the back. Now!" he growled lowly and his gaze turned darker.
"Yes, Eddie!" you wimpered and got in the back of the van as fast as you could. You nearly hitted your head on the van if Eddie didn't helped you and held his hand over your head.
As your legs met the soft blanket on the floor you thought that maybe he had this thing planned for tonight. As if he could read your mind he grinned and said: "I hoped you would be around today. So I had some things prepared."
He was hovering over you in seconds. His mouth found yours and he held your wrists over your head. You were at his mercy and you loved every second of it. Your juices were running down to your legs, your panties sticking to your folds. Eddie kissed down your throat and bit down again, leaving a dark mark on your neck. You mewled and squirmed beneath him. His other hand wandered to your perky boobs. Eddie pushed it up so your bra was on free display. You thanked the gods that you wore a black lace bra tonight with a matching panty.
"Damn, look at this princess. And I thought I was prepared. For who do you wear this nice bra, huh? Tell me." he mumbled between kissing your skin down to your breasts. He released your wrists and his hands came down to your boobs, massaging your hard nipples through your thin bra. "Only for you, Eddie. I hoped you would be there at this party." you whined, legs closing around Eddies waist. His rough jeans tickled your soft thighs and you could feel his hard one at your core. You squirmed around, wanting to feel as much friction as possible.
Your hands found their way to Eddies Jeans, fumbling with his belt as you tried to open it. You were nervous, as it was a long time ago that you had some bedroom action. He took your hand in his, kissing your nuckles. This small gesture calmed your nerves as you relaxed into his touch. "We don't need to do this, if you are not ready, princess. I can wait." he whispered and looked you deep in your eyes.
"No please! I waited so long. Please Eddie!" Tears flow down your eyes, ruining your mascara. Eddie smears your eyeliner even further down your cheeks, kissing softly on the salty skin. "You don't know what you do to me,Y/N. Crying and begging for me. You are perfect." he mumbled against your skin, moving his hands down to your waist. He hasticly removes your soaked panties and shoves them into his backpocket. "They are mine now." he said before going down to your pussy. He licked a fat stripe from your aching hole to your clit. You gasped, fingers clenching around Eddies locks as you pulled him closer.
He ate your pussy like it is his favorite meal. He adored how you sounded, your sweet little moans and sobs driving him on even more. His finger dipped into your wet hole, squeezing him as he pushed a second one into you. You cried out, his fingers reaching your sweet spot perfectly. "Jesus H. Christ. You sound so hot, princess." he moaned against your core between his licks. You nearly hit your orgasm as he stopped licking your clit, your pussy cleanching around his fingers. He bit down on your thigh, buried deep inside your hole. He didn't stop fingering you, knuckles deep inside you at a fast pace. Just as he bit down again on your other thigh you came. You tried to shut your legs, but Eddie kept them open for you. His whole weight was on both of your legs. You were shaking beneath him, trying to calm down, as he rode you through your orgasm. He came to a still as he slowly removed his fingers, kissing the hickeys he left on your legs.
"Th-Thank you, Eddie." you whispered out of breath. You never came this fast before.
"Aww, she has some really good manners. Even thanks me. You are so cute." he said and kissed your lips. You tasted your own juices mixed with his staliva. You moaned into his mouth as you tried to open his belt again. "Atta, princess. This is all about you." he grinned and kissed your hand. "Eddie- Please, I wanna feel you inside me." you sobbed, cheeks black from all your mascara tears that streamed down your face.
He loved seeing you begging and crying. His hard cock hurt and Eddie wanted nothing more than to bury his dick into your tight cunt.
He pushed his jeans and boxers down to his legs and pulled you closer to him. Your skirt rose up to your waist exposing your dripping cunt. Eddie opened your legs further. "Are you sure you want this? I can't hold back when I am inside you, Y/N." he said seriously. "Yes! Please Eddie fuck me raw please!" you nearly screamed, pathetically waiting for his cock inside you.
He pushed slowly into your hole. You cry out, your eyes rolling into your head. "Fuck! Princess, you are so tight! And you let me in raw. Dirty little girl." he mumbled against your skin, burying his face in your neck. He bit down on your throat, a small gasp escaped your lungs. Eddie picked up his pace, balls deep inside your wet pussy. He threw your legs over his shoulders, hitting your sweet spot at a devilish pace. Your fingernails digged into his forearms, leaving small marks all over his leather jacket. It turned you even more on, that he didn't bother to remove his clothes.
Your orgasm builed up again. Your legs started shaking as Eddies fingers found your puffy clit and started to draw small circles, pushing you closer to the edge.
"Eddie-!" you cried, tears falling onto your cheeks as your second orgasm hit you. Your pussy cleanched around Eddies cock and with a few more strokes he came as well. He helped you ride out your orgasm, slowly lowering your shaky legs down to his side. He gave your lips a small kiss, removing his dick from your aching cunt.
He plopped down next to you and pulled you to his side. You cuddled with him, burying your face in his neck. Eddie pulled you closer and you threw your leg over his waist, trying to get as much body contact as you could. "Y/N, are you ok? Sorry if I bit you too hard or hurt you in any other way..." Eddie said, playing with the strands of your hair. "Eddie. This was the best sex I ever had. Please, don't apologize." you said, kissing his lips deeply. He was surprised that you still stayed. Most people just come and go to him for a fast quickie. But you stayed.
"Eddie- I...I really like you." you said proping yourself up on your elbows, so you could see his facial expressions. He pulled you closer by your throat lightly squeezing it as he pecked your lips. "Go on a date with me." Eddie whispered between kisses. Your core grew wetter with the sound of his voice and his rough hand lightly squeezing your throat. You nodded happily laying down on his chest again.
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Note
Eden's new spouse had a diary on them when he took them. Spouse doesn't write in the diary for a bit at first while at the cabin, then starts writing again. Eden's spouse is pretty quiet, so they get curious. Eden reads the diary, and there are a bunch of entries about how awful life was and what they needed to do to survive, then spouse starts writing again and it's all about how much better life is now, and how much they love and appreciate Eden. Cue feels.
Brief, non-specific mentions of types of abuse PC faced growing up mentioned. Other than that, pretty fluffy (with some horny strewn throughout):
Eden doesn't always come back home this early from hunts. This one, however, went pretty badly when he'd stumbled across another hunter's old metal trap and cut his forearm. Of course he'd left his cleaning shit back at the cabin. It was just one of those days where nothing seemed to go right.
You'd seemed frazzled as you buzzed around him, still too quiet to really ask if you could help but the worry obvious in your eyes. That's when he noticed the poorly hidden notebook. You'd tried to put it behind the drawer, but in your haste to appear normal it'd fallen from its hiding spot and Eden finally discovered your little secret.
He kept his discovery to himself. Best that you wouldn't know so that you wouldn't change the hiding spot and Eden would be able to read future updates you wrote.
The chance to find out what the book entailed came early the next morning. Eden had an excuse to laze around a bit with his healing arm, but you were up and out to do chores. He didn't know what to expect. Plans to run away? Gorey scribbles of his head on a pike? Confessions of love for another?
The truth was somehow worse, yet far better.
The hunter's throat had a lump growing in it the further he read. It was a diary of sorts, detailing life at the orphanage before you were taken by Eden. He couldn't read too much of it, every hit and insult dredging up memories of his own he'd rather stay buried. His stomach flipped when he got to the sexual abuse. Goddamn it Bailey. Of all people, he should know better.
Despite the horrific details, there was a hopeful tone to the words he read. A tone that made sense as he continued to read. You'd written all of this after having been at the cabin for a while, having settled in and been allowed the freedom to use Eden's things as your own. Part of him was peeved he'd lost out on using a perfectly fine note book, but it was worth the words he had before him.
"I feel safe here. I didn't think I would ever know that feeling again, but I do now. Eden keeps me happy - which is still strange some days because he did sort of kidnap me. And he was terrifying. But with every new day I just can't help but feel like I might be starting to love him? Just a little bit? Maybe it's just Stockholm Syndrome."
That was just one entrance from three months ago. The trend continued.
"Yeah no, definitely lust at least. Caught myself almost drooling at him today while he was chopping wood, didn't even stop staring when he saw me. Ahhhh I must look like a freak to him sometimes. Well ya get what ya didn't pay for mister!"
The hunter couldn't help but chuckle at that. Though his cheeks grew hot from the thought that you'd been oggling him so. He'd have to remember to tale his shirt off while getting firewood more often.
"It's so fucking stupid, but every damn time he lets me sit in his lap and he reads to me I forget everything else ever existing. It's just me and him and the story he's reading, and I never feel so content anywhere else. Well, except maybe when we're doing it. He's getting really good when he goes down on me these days, I only wish he'd do it more often. I think I might have scared him by how hard I pulled his hair last time?"
More oral... yup he can certainly remember to do that. And no, it hadn't scared him at all when you'd pulled on his hair. It had almost made him finish in his pants before he could get to fucking you properly, actually. Hence why he didn't let you do it anymore.
There were more entries that Eden had to save for later, carefully placing your book back into its place and then finally joining you outside to do his share of the chores. A bubbly feeling rose in his chest as he worked, each time he caught your eyes on him only having him remember the words you'd written about finding it a turn on to watch him do jobs around the cabin.
It had been a long time since you'd felt safe. It had been a longer time since Eden had felt desirable. Since he'd felt accepted and loved.
Each day he'd find the time to check if you'd written something new. It was meant to be private, but he felt as though he needed to hear your praise. It became a crutch, a way to tell how the relationship was due to your withdrawn nature. You still didn't speak up very often. The hunter didn't hear your voice as much as he'd like to, so your written word had to fill the void. And it did, greatly.
Each and every compliment made his cheeks grow hot, his back a little straighter and his head was held a little higher. Every small declaration of love felt to be the size of Jupiter. Every moment of frustration endearing. He'd even been using the bedroom tips you had for him - carefully, of course. Didn't want you catching on.
You would eventually. You'd learn that he was reading your diary. But for now, Eden got to enjoy you in his own private way, too.
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milkycarnations · 2 years
Note
Could you do a short little writeup/one shot thing (you don’t have a write a whole lot if you don’t want to/the prompt isn’t inspiring!) Of a sub fem!reader friend of Tim’s, who’s sharing a hotel room with him right now, and really wants to be roughly dominated by Tim but is wayyyy too shy and awkward to approach him or talk about it?.. (Not too big on the degradation kink, I like me some praise, instead. Being roughly pinned down though? Yes.)
Sure thing, anon! I will attempt praise without degradation. I'm always thinking about Brian or Tim in some way, so this prompt is no problem. Sorry if the shot feels disjointed, I wrote the first half about 2 months ago when I received this ask. Might come back and do some finishing touches later as I also have a headache. Full fic under the cut.
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She's Unreal | Masky x afab!reader | 1.7k words
one-shot masterlist | mdni | cw: praise, begging, Tim calls you a good girl, rough sex, restraints/bondage, hotel sex, unprotected sex, creampie, reader gets not so shy, they're both just really horny, reader doesn't know what to do with herself
You watched as he pulled the wardrobe from the wall, checking for any hidden spyware. He was so obsessed with the search for cameras and microphones, you were surprised he had yet to find any the past week. You took the time to check him out, admiring the bulk in his arms and legs. He could throw you. You were sure of it. You wanted it.
You wouldn't mind that at all - him throwing you around a little.
"Nothing over here either," Tim said abruptly, shoving the wardrobe back against the wall. You looked down, hiding the heat on your face. Be real. He'd barely even touched you before, besides saving your life those few times. You were... partners, but not in that way! Maybe you had good reason to be so horny for him all the time but damn - if he ever found out he'd probably think you were some kind of freak. He'd probably even think about all the times you've thought about him just like now! You wouldn't live through that sort of embarrassment. Imagine being rejected and made fun of for being horny for Tim - Brian would never let you live it down for sure. Not you! You wouldn't hear the end of it.
"You feeling alright?" he asked.
It took you a moment to realize he had been talking to you the entire time. You weren't sure what to say. Your head was a blurry mess, begging for him to rail you against the hotel wall. Or the floor. Or the bed. All these thoughts went straight between your legs.
"I'm fine," you blurted.
He gave you an odd look and chose to sit down right beside you. Fuck. You squeezed your legs together and placed your hands in between them, trying to act naturally, but not sure what to do with yourself.
Tim glanced down toward your hands, but quickly averted his gaze. God, you wished he'd stare at your body like that more often. You wondered if he thought about you in the same way when he looked at your legs, but you guessed it was a long shot. You also wondered if he stared at your ass at work.
"Something's up. You plan on telling me what's wrong?"
You shook your head.
"Nah, just thinking."
He seemed close, his leg brushing up against yours, and your hips almost touching. Putting his hand on your knee, he squeezed firmly as he started to speak.
"I just wanna make sure you're okay."
A whine left your body at his touch, completely unasked for. Shit. You're too shy to meet his gaze, but his grasp stayed firm on your leg. Squeezing your legs together even tighter, you tried to fold yourself out of existence.
"Oh" Tim mumbled something to himself, a little too soft for you to hear.
"God damn," he called you by your name and fell into a fit of raspy cackles. If you didn't want to erase yourself so hard right now, you'd be telling yourself how sexy his laugh was. You were down bad.
Shrugging your shoulders, you watched as his hand wandered a bit higher. You felt as he pushed his torso into yours and his breath reached your neck.
"Are you turned on right now?"
Tim's voice came out barely louder than a whisper. You could not believe you were hearing the words come out of his mouth. More so, you had no idea how you were going to slip your way out of this mess.
One of his arms slinked its way behind you, while the one on your leg left to grab your face. Rough, calloused fingers squished your cheeks together and forced you to look him in the eyes.
"I'm sure I'm reading the room right, aren't I? I saw you rubbing yourself. Tryin' to hide it all cute."
He laughed as your eyes widened. Had you been touching yourself? Had you been grinding up against your hands without even noticing?
"C'mon, sweetheart. Don't be afraid."
Nodding slightly, you glanced toward his pants. You felt your pussy throb at the sight. He was hard and clearly horny too.
"Aww," he said, "were you too shy to say anythin'? Too shy to tell me what you want, pretty thing?"
You keep nodding along, unable to speak. He ran his thumb across your lips.
"I need you to say it though. Tell me what you want. Tell me you need me like a good girl,"
Leaning into him further, you couldn't believe what was happening. You had the most depraved thoughts about this man, but saying how badly you needed him was so unbearably embarrassing.
"I want you," you told him.
"Imma need more than that, baby. Let me know what you want."
"I want you to fuck me. Want you to use me and make me your good girl."
Your words came out needy. Between your legs, you could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter.
"Oh, sweet thing,"
Words so soft, eyes so sweet, he pushed you back onto the mattress. He knew you could take a lot, hopefully, he also knew that you desperately needed to be dicked down. Letting out an oomph as your back hit the mattress, you watched as he crawled up to you. The sound of his belt coming off filled the room.
"You want me to use you? That's not a light request darlin'. Turn around."
Doing what he said, you shifted onto your stomach. He grabbed your arms and you felt him tie them behind you with his belt. You stuffed your face against the pillow, already trying to stop whines and moans from pouring out of you.
"Don't worry, babygirl. Not gonna be so shy in a minute. You're gonna have so much fun lettin' me use you how I want. Now let me take these off you."
He reached around you, unbuttoning your pants. He pulled them off in two big tugs, the fabric of the jeans scraping at your sensitive skin. Impatient, he tugged at the crotch of your panties, ripping them off of you completely. Tutting, he spoke.
"You're already so wet for me. Such a good girl, wetting yourself for my dick. You're gonna take it so well, I can tell, pretty thing."
He ran his hand along your bare ass, squeezing and fondling you, spreading you open for him to see. How could you ever expect him to see you like this?
He ran a finger up and down your slit before pushing inside of you. You squealed into the pillow.
"That's it, baby. Just making sure you're all good and ready for me. You are, aren't you? Your perfect little cunt is just achin' for me."
Whining as he pulled out, you felt him pull his own pants down and off, throwing them in the corner of the room. Hands gripping onto your hips, he pulled your ass up into the air, shoving a pillow under them. Suddenly, he was leaning over you, pushing his hand into your upper back as he pushed his cock inside.
"Oh, fuck!" you moaned as he stretched you out. Were you dreaming?
He let out a deep groan as he bottomed out, resting his weight on top of you. He was holding back, but he had completely caged you in with his body and was pushing you down into the bed.
"You doing alright?" he hummed.
You were doing more than alright.
"Yes, please-" you started.
"Please? Please, what? You want me to go harder for you," you nodded as he spoke, "I know you're a feisty thing, you can take it can't you? You can take my cock pounding you like a good girl?"
"Yes, please, I want you to fuck me already."
"Good girl. You're shy but you know how to beg just right for me."
With heavy movements, Tim started to thrust into you, starting at a slow pace. Your arms tied behind your back didn't help you move much, but it didn't stop Tim from grabbing your face and lifting your head from the pillow.
"Yeah, don't muffle them cute little sounds you make." he squished your cheeks between his fingers, turning you to look at him. His body was pressed close against your back, each sharp thrust sending your hips rutting into the mattress.
"Fuck me faster, please," you mumbled.
"Huh? This not rough enough, yet?"
You shook your head letting out moans and breathless begging.
"Don't worry. I'm just enjoying your tight pussy. Does it get tighter the rougher I get? Will you squeeze around my cock like a good girl?"
Rolling your eyes back, you limped your head forward. Was this really happening? It's everything you've ever wanted and more. You keened as he suddenly slammed into you, starting a brutal pace. The bed creaked under both of you and the heat of his breath was intense against your neck. Tim groaned into your ear.
"It does! You've been wanting me for such a long time, haven't you? If your cunt keeps sucking me in like that it's gonna make me cum. You wanna cum for me, too? I bet you'll look all pretty cumming around me."
"Yes, please! Please make me cum around your cock." You were panting as you spoke, spent by him fucking you.
"Not shy for much longer, be a good girl and take it." Tim positioned his right arm around you, reaching to rub your clit. You were already so swollen and sensitive, it didn't take long for your pussy to throb.
"Oh shit. Keep doing that, please."
"Since you ask so nicely," he said, grinding into you with the perfect tempo. You felt the tension of your orgasm building until you had been pushed over the edge.
"I'm cumming!"
"Fuck, yes! Keep cumming like a good girl."
He didn't stop rubbing and fucking you as you came, forcing you to ride it out on his cock.
"Can I cum inside you, sweetheart?" he asked.
"Yes!" you gasped. He wasted no time, his rutting became sparse and stuttered. You could feel him fill you up, stretching around your sore lips one last time. He pulled out collapsing beside you. Cum started to drip out of you.
"Let's get this off ya," he said, tugging the belt off your wrists. Exhausted, you nodded along, letting him unbind you.
"Do you feel used enough? Or do I need to go harder next time?"
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swaqcenix · 1 year
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༻ It comes and goes | Natasha Romanoff ༺
Natasha Romanoff x gn!reader
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Summary: You've spent a chunk of your life battling the emotional thoughts of bipolar and have no concept on dealing with your emotions. Sitting in the rain does feel like drowning but it's comforting, until a hand from Romanoff drags you out of the depths of water.
Warnings: reader has bipolar, mentions of low thoughts, a shit ton of hurt/comfort, natasha just allowing reader to understand it's okay to not be okay!
Word Count: 1.8K
AN: This is just a small comfort fic while I work on my peggy!yandere fic and of course the strip club natasha one. (I haven't forgotten them!)
Wrote this a while back just to cope with my own diagnosis and anyone is welcome to gain comfort from it. Be my happy flowers guys! <3
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There's one thing people never quite clarify with you, that the older you get just becomes more hard to swim. Kids always jump for growing up and throwing away their innocence not knowing of the tidal wave coming slowly along the sea, prepared to drown out your every thought of contentment.
Aged 10 was the last time you could ever remember not suffering with the constant feeling of a pit of anxiety, suffering and longing to allow the waters of the sea to suck you in. The way you used to place fictional games with your friends, always being petty shit's on the concept of, "Ask... it's not my game," or the fighting of being first in the lunch line.
You'd kept the diagnosis quiet when joining the Avengers, not wanting any of your fellow teammates to think any less of you. You'd felt less of yourself the moment the words of the diagnosis slipped from the nurses tongue 5 years prior. 5 years officially diagnosed but you didn't feel any lighter, instead you felt heavier.
"Sometimes we like to do CBT," the woman stated and your head tilted to the side.
"What's CBT?" Your hands bounced on your knees.
Slipping out the compound wasn't the easiest job. You'd all had meetings back to back with Ross and the damn government. An excuse slipped past your lips faster than it should have done. You'd stated only that you couldn't attend the final one as you'd had to go pick up your little sister.
Sure it would have been a valid excuse. If you actually had a sister. Yet, you didn't so you knew you'd be caught out eventually especially if Fury found out already knowing your background including family members. Still, you'd deal with that when the moment occurred for it.
"It's called cognitive behavioural therapy. It's commonly used for depression or anxiety but we do tend to use it on other patients like in your case to help you to cope with living with bipolar."
Your brain tried to stay focused but all you heard was the words 'your bipolar,' then began to shut off. After that the session was a blur. No thoughts passed your mind, no feelings ran through your veins nor emotions. Just the concept of numbness. Nothing to feel.
Heading back to the compound was a stressful moment. As soon as you walked through the doors you'd have to put on a whole front again pretending you were and felt something you didn't.
In all honesty it was comforting to sometimes be able to do that. Around your therapist, the outside world even your family they treaded lightly, afraid one word would break you like shattering glass hitting the floor or a porcelain doll. With the Avengers they didn't know, so you weren't a doll and you weren't glass. You were yourself and that alone.
However, sometimes it would be nice to just let yourself go. Your feet padded up the stairs of the compound entering the main room, the lounge where they sat watching TV and discussing.
"Hey, Y/N.. you okay?" Sam's voice was the first to speak but it sounded.. concerned?
"Yeah, fine thanks Sam," you responded allowing your eyes to meet his own.
Trying to act as casually as you always did, you went to grab a glass of water turning on the tap watching it run down the sink hole. You often wished you could be flushed away like that.
Shaking your head away from deeper thoughts you grabbed your glass sipping at the water looking up to see everyone examining you. A familiar feeling of dread, the emotional tidal waves flushing through your skin wanting out came crashing to the surface.
They surely couldn't know, right?
Vision spoke up first, possibly to ease up the tension though you can hardly imagine toaster man knowing much about emotions. No offence to the guy.
"We were told you.. you're an only child," his voice seemed one not of judgment but of confusion.
"Oh.. right," was the only response your brain could conjure up in that moment.
Tony let out a half-sided smile and you were grateful he wasn't digging too much. Surprisingly none of them were. He did speak up after a beat or two and while it wasn't their fault you did wish they wouldn't at all.
"Whatever is going on, we.. we're here," His tone was the best of sentiment you'd get out of him.
You truly were grateful but you hadn't a moments thought on how to even tell them. Fear of being kicked off the team, living half a life amongst them simply for suffering with some health issues was silly to other's minds, but not to your own.
Shaking your head you grabbed your jacket you'd left on the chair offering them all a tight lipped smile. Your eyes connected with Natasha's and your eyes felt like watering. She wasn't looking at you like you were damaged, nor was it in a concerned only look.
Nat was looking at you like she knew, like she understood what you felt and the pain gnawing away at you only grew. Her emerald green eyes looking one of connecting with nature swimming with the look of understanding was a pain you couldn't bare.
You mumbled that you needed air, heading towards the patio you'd become familiar with at night. It had become a comfort location, you'd seen Natasha out there a few times although, come to think of it lately she seemed to not be heading there anymore.
The mumbling and mainly muffled voices of the Avengers informed you that it was raining, but your brain scarcely paid attention. You just needed out, besides who gives a fuck if the rain touched your skin.
Your brain danced with thoughts of how to calm yourself down and you knew instantly, as your reached into your back pocket slipping in your airpods and connected them to your phone. Sliding open the patio door, you ungracefully sat down on the bench looking down as the rain hit your skin.
Hair becoming drenched you focused on your chosen song, trying to drown out any invading thoughts that would cluster your mindset, instead focusing on how you felt utterly at home.
The chosen song had been Waves by Dean Lewis. It reminded you so much of how your brain's concept of emotions and how your life seemed to go in waves of the ocean.
Sometimes you saw yourself standing next to the ocean as it pulled you out. The freedom of falling, allowing yourself to no longer panic over bipolar or how the world saw you.
The rain splashed down heavily on your skin and you felt wet through but you didn't mind, or frankly didn't care. Nor were you sure how long you had been listening to songs in the rain, it felt late but it felt like seconds.
A gentle hand on your shoulder pulled you from your thoughts. Your mind had been dancing to Paris, Texas by Lana until your body almost jolted forward from the contact. The sudden shelter from the rain made your head tilt up to come in contact with emerald eyes.
Natasha stood tall, almost protecting you- sheltering you from the rain, a beacon of hope. You offered the best smile you could give, despite the fact it looked like you were in pain more than smiling before indicating to her to sit down.
Her red hair cascaded down her shoulders, pulled half back into a plait that was elegant but moved with ease. It suited her just as most things did. You'd noticed that about her, for a woman who'd been through so much Natasha did everything with elegance and ease.
"You know, when I was a child I used to run out into the rain, the firefly's came out at night," She confessed causing you to stiffen up.
Natasha wasn't one for opening up, let alone talking of her childhood past, so why you? You let her express her thoughts almost curious to see where she was going to take this.
"My mom she'd come out to find me afterwards and I was always helping my little sister who also danced away with the firefly's. It wasn't real though. Not truly," She proceeded and your heart melted and cracked for the older woman.
"Nat I.."
You weren't even sure what to respond with. Hearing her open up around her past made your own pain seem tiny, insignificant despite the fact she wasn't attempting to do that.
"You don't need to say anything, I understand. Perhaps not what you're going through. The feeling of masking right, I see it," she continued tilting her head towards you.
She proceeded her train of thought.
"It comes and goes in waves. The feeling of this family. I had no one after the family I grew up with, no one but myself. Don't drown your thoughts out in the rain, drag yourself up out of the ocean, trust me Y/N."
You finally looked up making eye contact with the Russian, smiling softly at her nodding. You took off your glove reaching sighing looking down at your hands.
"Sometimes, my therapist gets it to a certain extent but sometimes she doesn't. When it feels like all you can do it float out to sea and drown in a pit of your own emotions. The masking isn't something I want to do, but simply so people don't see my problems.. they just see me."
A tear slipped down your cheek without even realising it and you closed your eyes. Nothing was spoken amongst the pouring of the rain, nothing was needed to be said. All that was needed was the words you let echo. It felt like you were drowning in a sea of hell, with no way out.
Through the mist and fog engulfing your brain, taking you out to the sea you felt a touch upon your hand. Eyes opening wide, you saw it. Her hand clasped tightly in your own trying to drag you out of the suffering, reach to you through the ocean like a beacon of a ship, rising up it's anchor.
Her eyes looked into your own, reflecting what she wanted to say but had no thoughts on how to express it. Her touch was all you needed, the words slipping past your mouth before you could think.
"Your family.. It might not have been directly real, but they pulled you out of the waves while it lasted, it was real to you Natasha," You explained watching it pull at her heart strings.
She offered you a watery smile, her eyes dancing with sea of hope just as your own while you were perhaps an an anchor in the waves you steadied each other out in a balance.
"This family is real to you too. We are real and we see you. I see you Y/N," Her voice bringing comfort and warmth.
You grabbed her hand tightly because while your bipolar had an anchor on you, you had a ship lifting you through the sea's Natasha and your little family. They were there to guide you.
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sneakerguybln · 2 years
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It's the day after England crashed out of the World Cup. The 19 year old chav lad Dave made a bet that England will win the World Cup after they won their first group match. 'This time it's coming home' he yelled after the final whistle of Englands first match. He watched the game with his five closest friends and his (dizygotic) twin brother. 'If they are fucking losers I'll do a half year without sex... fuck off: one year. You can lock me in a damn fucking chastity device of one year if they lose' he said. His friends said if England win he can send them buying some clothing stuff he wishes. They even wrote it down and signed it.
Obviously he lost his bet. Now he has to pay the price. He had forgotten the bet. As he woke up in the morning he found himself in a WhatsApp group "Virgin Dave". He tried to convince his friends that it was just a joke. But they had his signature. They threatened to post this contract to other friends and to their gym friends and call him "pussy Dave" because he tried to duck out. Finally he consentend. They said that they'll come to his house at noon and they'll do a ceremony. After they sent a picture of the chastity device Dave drank the rest of the Vodka they had the evening before. His brother took this picture and said: 'Drink more maybe it's easier to accept.'
Exactly at noon the doorbell rang and Dave's brother opened the door. Their five friends came in. They escorted Dave into his room and tied him spread-eagled to his bed. After they pulled down his pants his best friend Lewis said: 'This pig isn't shaved.' He took a latex glove and Dave's trimmer and removed his pubic hair. After that he got a clean shave. Dave had a boner since they tied him to his bed and they mocked him for that. Dave didn't say anything. He let them do what they want to do. He was happy that nobody is filming this shit. As they had dried his crotch with a towel they oiled his balls.
Then his brother - this evil freak of brother - opened the box of the device and placed the device on Dave's mouth. 'Next time England is playing you better be more humble bro' he said. Dave refused to react. Then Lewis said imitating a man who unroll a paper in the air: 'Hereby, we, the six wise men of football knowledge found you guilty of the crime of stupidity. We sentence you to a maximum of 12 months in chastity. You can reduce your sentence to a minimum of 9 months by going every second week to the Corporal Punishment party in the gay fetish club two corners away. I don't remember its name.' All laughed - even Dave in his situation - as they know that Lewis is often there. 'Order!' he yelled while his hand made a sweeping gesture. He continued: 'For each Corporal Punishment party his sentence will be reduced by one week. But if he misses one of the parties his sentence will go back to the full 12 months. This installment of the punishment device will be executed by the convict's brother Danny. The convict is entitled to cleaning every 20th day. If it isn't possible he has to beg for an alternative time at least 5 days ahead. If he ever misses one cleaning day he has to wait 10 more days for another chance. Did you understand the sentence, convict, and do you accept it?' - Dave said: 'Yes, you godless bastards.' - 'For unruly behaviour we increase the minimum sentence to 10 months' Lewis said. 'Danny, please execute the sentence!' Dave's boner was rock hard.
Danny put on latex gloves and fumbled the balls through the ring, than the dick. Then he pressed the cage on his brother's cock and locked the device. He gave the keys to Lewis. 'On cleaning day you'll visit one of us. We tell you beforehand who will clean you. You'll bring a pair of handcuffs and fresh latex gloves with you. When you arrive you'll beg to be cleaned. You follow the one of us to the bathroom. You pull down your pants, hand over the keys to the handcuff and cuff yourself on the back. After the procedure your handcuffs will be unlocked. As we'll wear gloves no human skin will touch your dick in entirety for at least 10 months. If you try to trick us we'll embarrass you everywhere as we recorded this day with a hidden camera' Lewis's brother Tom said.
They untied him and went in the living room Dave's family's house. Walking down the stairs Dave felt the heaviness of the chastity device. He decided to accept it and to talk to his friends after two or three months to get his punishment finished immediately. He didn't know that they planned to let him suffer for the entire time. He even went to the fetish club and got the corporal punishments. But the 7th punishment was so heavy he pulled out and said he couldn't stand two more which would have been neccessary to get the last two months of his sentence cancelled. He didn't know that his friends paid a guy who is doing this often and know how to use the cane to inflict as much pain as possible.
Even next summer they were cold-hearted as the seven guys planned to travel to Ibiza. They told him that they'll have a key with them to unlock before security. After they had checked in their checked baggage Lewis told him that the key was accidentally in the checked luggage after he had pretended to have searched it in the hand luggage. Dave had to chose: going home or through security. He did the latter thing. The metal detector set off and he had to undergo a second control in a private room. He told the security staff that he has got some unremovable jewellery attached to his body. He had to show. One security officer laughed: 'That isn't jewellery, mate. That's a chastity device. Who did this to you?' - 'England, mate. It was England crashing out of the World Cup against France.'
They sent him to his friends who already had finished their first pint at Gatwick's Wetherspoon's. As he had found them his brother said: 'I totally forgot something. I had the key.' Dave ordered a Scotch and a pint. He decided for himself that he won't ask them to unlock him for flying home. He won't let them mock him again. Later he realized that this was the moment he accepted chastity. After their vacation he searched a Domme and found one. She took over the keys and started to train him to be her and her husbands sex toy. Shortly after meeting his Domme she started to pressure him to get a vasectomy. After a few months he agreed and had it done on his 21st birthday. After everything was healed she invited his brother and friends to their house. Dave was again spread-eagled on his bed. She told everyone that Dave had undergone s vasectomy to bring a sacrifice for earning permanent slavery - he made it a secret. Danny and the other guys were stunned. But the next thing stunned them more. 'Mistress' Dave said 'please make my chastity permanent.' - 'As you brought a huge sacrifice for me I'll grant you this wish, slave.' She broke one key in the lock and sealed it with industrial glue. 'It will only come off by destroying it' she said. Dave smiled.
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rosemaries-shroom · 10 months
Note
Confused on your takes now?
C said they're the issue cus yikes
But your vent says otherwise?
Were they bad or were you just pissed off because I know them but I'd still like both sides? Any time I try to ask I get directed here
*everybody* was an issue
We get triggered and fall into guilt spirals and bpd episodes/psychosis episodes. We couldn't trust that they weren't just saying things to get us to leave them alone. That has always been a problem we have, the entire time. We've stated and given them multiple times to leave or step away, we have asked them to tell us when we are being too much. They have always said it's okay, so we believed it was that or cause more problems by shutting everyone out. How we react and how we blame ourselves and how close we've been to kxlling ourselves multiple times, the shame and hiding and all the other bullshit. I don't agree with whoever wrote our vent on their final conclusion because it's not something we've ever tried to just dismiss. We've always apologized and had plans to avoid it happening again. But when we're being triggered every damn day and everyone aside from 1(now 3) fucking person was telling us we weren't to blame for how we've been treated. Its fucking hard to believe the one person, so we'd constantly second guess if they were also telling us the truth. That isn't their fault, it was the house we were living in and the trauma we'd been going through since we were like 4? 5?
They were reacting to all the shit that was happening by closing us off, putting the pressure of ending the relationship on us alone, ect. They were also in a bad place, a bad house, a bad life. They are also a traumatized person who *was* trying their best to be supportive, even if it wasn't how we'd asked/needed they were trying to be there. We have never once fucking thought of them as abusive. We know why they reacted how they did. We know why they felt they had to go about it that way. We *were* pissed and the way everything came out on this blog was definitely dismissing the good they have done. We were still in a very triggered mindset and not thinking about how they had helped us. We probably wouldn't have put as much out there if we'd been thinking clearly. That doesn't make what we posted before invalid, we still agree with the message just wish it hadn't been so harsh.
What they did was too close to how we were treated by our actual abuser. We reacted in a fully traumatized way and did a lot of shit that also wasn't okay. We almost kxlled ourselves because the number of lies and hidden shit coming out suddenly at once, often times completely being the opposite of what they assured us was okay. If it had been like one thing or something fucking fine. But to go from "everyone's partners are asleep and have been for who knows how long"(and all of them being ones who had helped with our struggles on top of that) to "we haven't been reaching out to anyone for months"(even though that was *literally* the reason we tried to be okay with opening up more to them) to "how could you call me him? I'm a stereotypical angry protector, you mightve made him angry but that doesn't excuse how he treated you"(but you're treating us how he treated us(minus the rxping) so???? Which is is???) to "oh everyone's awake, they're here again you can talk to them" because "you think we're like him" *when that wasn't even the point we were trying to make*
We hit our breaking point, quite literally. No, we don't think they were abusive, no we don't think we were abusive, we were two fucking traumatized systems who's reactions to being triggered were not being handled well enough. Who's triggers lined up in a bad way that would have continued down a bad road.
They weren't doing it to hurt us, we weren't doing it to make them feel responsible for our inability to regulate ourselves. It just wasn't a relationship that we could continue knowing we'd still be doing all the work to have things be healthy. When every big Talk recently has left us feeling horrifically guilty and like an asshole for even bringing them up
We wanted it to work, to be able to work through it but it was too much for us after everything we'd just gotten out of. Everyone was an issue. Neither side is in the right or wrong. Everyone involved needs to do the work to be a better person.
#-c
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kiljoius · 2 years
Text
Accepted
Team 8 feels from Shino's perspective
Word Count: 800
Wrote this a few months ago, wish I had done something new for our beautiful bug boys birthday. 🪲
Ao3
Abandonment issues were always present in Shino as Kiba, Hinata, and Kurenai knew. It would take a very long time for him to finally reveal exactly why that was, but in the meantime, they always did their best to ensure he felt included. Kiba often invited him on walks with Akamaru. Hinata taught him how to press flowers. Kurenai personally trained with him, as his own clan was often too busy to train with him like Kiba did with Hana or Hinata did with her father or Neji. They didn’t realize how much it meant to Shino.
While Shino enjoyed silence, especially when in his greenhouse, tending to his nests, he also enjoyed the company of another. While he was never well and truly alone, having hundreds of insects constantly with him, it in fact made him feel even lonelier. For as long as he could remember, he struggled to create companionship's. His mother and father could tell him every day, every hour, that it did not matter what others thought, only that he be himself, he could never shake the feeling of being feared.
Other's thought he was disgusting. As he learned to control his beetles in his early days of the academy, he would often have beetles crawling over his hands and cheeks, which other children recoiled at. Like most of his clan, he was quiet and reserved, and used that to block others out. Then his only friend, someone he looked to as a brother, was taken from him, and he truly felt alone. He felt abandoned, deciding he wouldn’t get close enough to anyone else again to avoid that feeling.
Team 8 broke that barrier quite swiftly. He remembered hearing his name come after Hinata’s and Kiba’s. He was alright with Hinata, though he feared she may be weak, but did not have a good impression of Kiba. He was loud, brash, rude. Always seeking attention, always looking to pick a fight. He had done his best to avoid that type of person, knowing he would almost certainly tell him how disgusting he found him. It’s not like the damn dog wasn’t gross in his own way.
Then, the next day, they sat together as they waited to be picked up. Silence hung over them as Kiba continued to interact with Shikamaru and Choji rather than he and Hinata. Hinata was too overly shy to initiate conversation and Shino didn’t care to try either. They were all caught off guard when Kurenai appeared, calling their names. Kiba and Hinata looked at her with awe, and Shino had to admit he was a quite impressed by her as well.
They had a rough time at first, but soon fell into sync as a team within weeks. He could already tell Hinata was quite a bit stronger than she first let on, and Kiba was quite a bit more sensitive than he let on, too. Fiercely loyal, he would call them. One day, while training, another team had stopped to watch Shino as he unleashed an insect type attack on Kiba, and with keen hearing, Kiba could pick up the insults they were telling each other about Shino. It was the first time he had seen Kiba truly furious.
“You wanna come over here and say that shit to us, fuckface?” Kiba suddenly spun around, ignoring Shino’s oncoming attack as he stomped towards the boys. Hinata gasped as she watched on, Shino feeling a little bewildered.
“Oh shut up, mutt boy.” One of the boys called, trying to walk away. Kiba bolted over, Akamaru in tow, and grabbed his collar, lifting him from the ground. The boy squirmed “-h-hey! Put me down!”
“If I hear you insult my friends again, I’ll put you down-in the ground.” He hissed as Hinata and Shino approached with concern. He shoved the boy back, causing him to fall. He scrambled up and ran after his teammate who had already taken off.
“K-Kiba? What was that?” Hinata asked as she stopped in front of him, peering up at his reddened, anger laden face. He rolled his eyes and shook his head, patting her on the top of the head.
“Nothin’. Just some cowards shit-talking.” He forced a smile at her before looking at Shino, nodding.
It was the first time Shino felt something like endearing gratitude. Hinata had never once spoken ill towards him about his beetles, and had even been quite amazed by them. And while Kiba had been seemingly a bit iffy about his bugs, he had proven himself a true friend that day, one that wouldn’t stand for bad mouthing of him.
From that day, Shino finally felt accepted. He felt like he belonged. To team 8.
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h0rr0rsaxo · 2 years
Note
Okay! I have another idea hehe...feel free to send me more!
So I know Varrick and Keiran HATE each other....I wanna see how Keiran and Vince would go.....Vince is a little less hotheaded and I think it would be interesting.
So Anni and Vince are out, trying to chill and get drinks and they run into Keiran. Keiran purposefully ignores Vince and talks down to Anni and calls her things like "love" and "sweetheart". Vince is obviously a little jealous but he has that thing with being too close with someone so he holds back. Keiran can tell he's holding back too, so he kisses Anni roughly and busts her lip. The second Vince sees blood, he just immediately throws hands and loses it. The two fight and eventually get kicked out of the bar, along with Anni and Vince freaks out, completely losing his shit and yelling at Keiran to stay away from Anni. It just kinda escalates from there and it can however you'd like!
(Thank you so much! And you better send me more requests!!!)
Unwanted bar violence - Simp Party
Warnings; Slight violence
Tags; @insane-horror-movie-addict
A/N: I wrote this pretty late so sorry for how shitty it is..
Word count: 1,467
Keiran clutched the cup so tightly that if it had been glass it would have shattered in his fist. His eyes watched hawkishly as he noticed Anni laughed with a man by the bar. The man was clearly flirting with her, finding ways and reasons to touch her arm and shoulder and once even her face as he “removed an eyelash” from her cheek. He leaned in close and whispered something to Anni and Keiran waited, breath caught in his throat as the man brushed his fingers against her arm. His heart thundered in his chest and nearly ran outside. But, of course, Keiran kept his cool. Settling his drink down onto the bar-counter, he put on his usual lazy smirk and walked over.
“Whoa,” Keiran mumbled, letting out a low whistle as he stepped near Anni, lazily stuffing his hands into his pockets as his eyes traced along her body. It seemed Anni had taken extra care to put herself together tonight. She didn’t often get to flaunt what her mama gave her. She had actually taken time to look for a nice outfit, but anything too excessive, and do more with her hair then wad it into a ponytail on the top of her head.
“Damn," Keiran said with a sly smirk. “I’m definitely gonna relax and have a good time tonight with you around,” he added with a suggestive wink.
"Keiran?" Anni's gaze turned to him, her eyes widening agape slightly. It was strange not to see him on a mission— seeing him outside of work had been so strange.
“Hey sweetheart.” Keiran said, an arm stretching across to place a hand onto her shoulder, "Missed me?"
“You wish.” Anni smirked at the man playfully but with a certain tightness, ordering the drinks for herself and Vince from the bar. She quickly glanced over her shoulder to introduce Vince to Keiran, but his demeanor had slightly changed. Vince kept a cool expression— but the vibe he had been giving off seemed rather, annoyed.
“Waiting for someone gorgeous?” Keiran asked, pushing his blond hair back with a hand, bright white teeth flashing. Vince narrowed his eyes slightly, was this annoying blond ignoring Vince's existence….? What the fuck?
“Uh… no actually.” Anni smiled, “My frien-”
“Is obviously not that attached to you if he let you go off on your own.” The Zalgo proxy cut in, smirking at her while leaning on the bar.
“Actually—”
“He obviously didn’t think that anyone else would notice how perfect you are, sweetheart.” The man drawled, tracing a finger down Anni's arm, causing her to shiver.
There was a flicker in Vince's eyes and an almost imperceptible clench of his jaw. If Anni hadn’t learned to recognize every little change about the man, she never would have noticed. He was her good friend. She is just about the only person he opened up to. He couldn’t help but let a genuine reaction flash across his face before hurrying to hide behind a tough, manly exterior. She saw right through that smoke screen, "Actually she isn't alone. I'm right here. But, I think you noticed that already," Vince rolled his eyes slightly, attempting to keep that smile onto hisbface.
“Anyways, what can I help you with, Keiran?” Anni politely asked.
“Actually, yes, I think you can. You see, I was wondering if you’d allow me to compliment you with a drink? It would be an honor to buy a beverage for a beautiful woman, such as yourself.” Keiran flashed a charming smile that made her stomach flutter. Vince's eye twitched immensely, while the fake smile stayed put onto his lips.
Before Anni could even think about what she was saying, she blurted, “Yes, thank you. I’d love to have a drink with you.”
The blond nodded, as if he had been expecting that reply. Anni almost questioned it, but he flashed another dazzling smile at her, and her thoughts left her.
It felt as if no time had passed before Anni was leaning onto his arm, and for once, he didn't seem…violent. He actually seemed like a decent man. A charming and delightful man. Oh, he was so handsome, she couldn't deny that. She looked at him, and was about to ask him why he was asking so…delightful, when the moonlight caught his beautiful eyes and made them sparkle. She smiled and continued making small talk with him. She had just laid her head on his arm, relishing his warmth.
Vince felt his shoulders slump. He wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe it was the alcohol fueling his emotions, but he really wanted to punch the douchebag that was hanging off her face. It was embarrassing to watch, the blond was so annoying that he basically just stole her. But just as Anni did, she elegantly gave a small chuckle, reached her hand up to his cheek and rested her forehead in the crook of his nose. Anni's smile melted into his lips. At the same time across the room, her smile almost took Vince out.
If there wasn’t live music playing and people circling him on the dance floor, she could have heard Vince's fragile heart crack.
He couldn’t believe Annu was with such a douchebag. Why should he care? Why should he care?
He shouldn’t. It was a stupid crush. That’s all.
He wasn’t a jealous man.
“You alright?" Lyon asked, his energy taking Vince out of his trance. Vince grunted in response. “You seem like you're going to kill Keiran over there. You look like you're gonna shoot him with your eyes.” Lyon chuckled, as he leaned against the bar. Lyon knew Vince, since he was a frequent customer at his bar, and they knew each other quite well.
Vince didn’t say anything in response. “Is it because he’s trying to suck on Anni's face?” Lyon whispered in his ear, placing a hand on his shoulder. The demonic bartender had loved to stir up and instigate unnecessary trouble— in fact, he was known for it.
“Why don’t you back the fuck up,” Vince spat at him.
Lyon walked backwards holding his hands defensively in the air with a smirk on his face. “Quit being so obvious, man. Do something before you lose something. But hey! I'm just a bartender, what would I know?”
Vince turned back to look at her, but the two barstools were now empty. He hated imagining what was currently happening between the two of them. It made him cringe even thinking about it. His face scrunched as he began to feel overwhelmed by the bar scene of the night. But he tried his best to keep his composure— he wasn't even dating her, so what right did he have being so jealous?
All of those thoughts quickly changed when he saw how Keiran made-out with her.
The world around them blurred as Anni looked into his eyes. Keiran's arms reached up and tangled around her neck. He breathed in sharply and kissed her roughly, his arms encircling her waist drawing her in, his lips hungry for hers. Blood began to trickle from how much force he put into the kiss, it only encouraged Vince's anger. But the way Keiran had made unashamed eye contact with Vince was the absolute last straw.
Anni let out a loud gasp as Vince's fist plummeted into Keiran's face. He brought up his arm for another punch but Keiran had already fallen on the ground from the first one. Vince shook out his fist. He hadn’t punched anyone in a while, he usually was better with firearms.
Suddenly, Keiran grabbed his arm and swung his fist, punching him in the face and kneeing him in the stomach. Vince grabbed his wrist and flipped it around his back, yanking it upward and snapping his bone at the elbow joint. He hissed and then laughed to himself, “Do you think broken bones can hurt me? I'm a fucking Zalgo proxy.” Keiran glared.
Keiran thrusted his free arm back, elbowing Vince in the face and he stumbled back away from his vulnerable state. Turning around, he ran forward and slammed his closed fist on Vince's back, his body falling to the ground with a thud. Though Vince quickly grabbed him by his shirt and yanked him up, throwing him against a table and letting his ragged body fall against the scratchy floorboards.
Vince glared as he looked down at the angered man on the ground. “Stay the fuck away from Anni,” Vince said slowly, kicking him in the side as the blond muttered curses in russian.
Though Lyon had been excessively enjoying this display of unwanted violence, one of Lyon's workers did not. The three of them quickly got kicked out of the bar, and Vince continued to glare at him— even from outside.
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nonclassyparty · 2 years
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the monologue y/n said to woo after the break hurt so bad bro 😭 like damn it hit deep! y/n is such a complex character and i wanna thank u for giving her so much personality unlike other y/n’s who often come off as pick mes/bland 🫂❤️ also the way i’m so much more interested in seeing her grow as a person with hongjoong and wooyoung while trying to become an artist than i am with the love interests 😭 and not bc u wrote them bad!! LIKE NOT AT ALL BC I WAS CRYING WHEN MINGI SAID ALL THE SHIT BWNDJWJD but your storytelling of y/n is just so excellent that i’m cheering for her to overcome everything like mending (hopefully) her relationship with hwa and finding herself as an artist <3 overall im truly just gagging at everything that’s happening like mama i’m so easily surprised whejwjdjk
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omg me again….sorry hwjdjwj but i just wanted to say that i understand 100% of WHERE mingi was coming from (obviously don’t agree with the WAY he did everything) since i too would choose my bff over a three month fling any day. i think the issue arises when he doesn’t even try to make it work? for example not blowing up on y/n just bc he’s overwhelmed with the situation but instead letting her down easy 😭 but once again i also get letting ur emotions take over u and saying things u might regret :( it’s just a shitty thing that happened and is just caused by people being human and making mistakes…though if i was mingi i would have def tried to explain/apologized for my behavior that is the one thing i can say for sure is a fucked up thing for mingi to do like whjxjwjd GIRL BE A FUCKING MAN! GO TO WAR!
thank you very much!! i worked very very hard in planning y/n out like that was the hardest part of the story for me 😭 so i get very happy when i see people compliment her ❤️
and as for the mingi part....i feel like thats my fault kinda 😭 i wish i could write from his pov so u guys could see what kind of person he actually is but i feel like that would make shit even worse when the story is done so i won't 😭
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