#i desperately wish i had more money

[asterias-corner]

guys gays ghesties

HE IS SO FUCKING UGLY I WANT HIM NOW

[medicinemane]

And maybe you'll be like "but if you don't trust businesses, how can you trust welfare?"

I fucking don't. My mom trying to get on food stamps fucked me up because a lady I never met without my permission got my SSN from my mom and started editing my files. My heart still races to this very second whenever I think about it, it kinda messed me up bad and I'll never ever ever see any kind of recourse

And I'm terrified that I'm gonna lose my medicaid just cause I inherited some money from my grandpa

And I've never even applied for disability cause it kinda doesn't matter finding out if I'd qualify or not cause of my depression, when the rules are so restrictive I don't know if I've even be allowed to keep my house

I do not fucking trust these things on a personal level. I feel like out of a lot of people I have the most to fear from them cause I'm on the edge of having things work, and that gets you punished

...but I need medicaid in order to have insurance (and when you strip out the finance side of medicaid, I love medicaid... they're honestly incredible insurance... I just... I just... dental is like 90% of why medicaid is so important to me, ever since I found out this state pays for it I've actually been able to do cleanings which is important to me cause I can't always get myself to brush)

And I think things like disability and food stamps are pretty damn important on a personal level, and honestly are also good for the economy cause they get people spending... it's practically a free cash infusion into the economy, cause these are people who need to buy stuff

There's just so much important stuff welfare does that it's worth dealing with government

No, what I want is more accountability so if someone gets my SSN from a 3rd party like my mom they're held to HIPPA styles standards where that's not ok to access my files without my permission (She changed my fucking address and tried to get medicaid to investigate me for fraud! Never even met me)

Like have some accountability there and in every situation

Secondly I want less punitive focused rules. I'd frankly prefer bezos get on disability than smack down some poor sod cause they got $2000 in the bank or cause their friend lets them live with them for free

If there's gonna be a cut off on these programs, it needs to be a solid step above the poverty line, cause... by definition I assume poverty line denotes kinda the minimum expected income people can reasonably live off of, and if you take away benefits people are gonna lose a chunk of money to covering that stuff themself, so you need a buffer before you kick people off

I don't fucking trust the government for a second, I've actively been fucked by them and on a personal level I avoid everything but medicaid and only that cause everything but the money is pleasant to deal with and I kinda need it (honestly if I was rich I'm not even kidding that I'd rather give medicaid like $400 a month than some insurance company, I sincerely like them as insurance)

But I'd trust them a lot more if they were less punitive, less out to hunt me down and gut me cause someone handed me a fiver or cause I started to get on my feet, and if government employees had concrete rules they had to follow that were actually transparent and enforced

Like 90% of my problems with welfare go away if they're held accountable and there's less "catch the welfare cheats" mentality going around

I don't trust the government in the slightest, but sadly there some jobs it kinda has to do, so I'd just rather force it to be an open book where the public can keep an eye on it and if they step out of line there's consequences (sort of like I don't trust most mega corps but happen to sometimes need stuff from them... did you know literally every cell service provider has been illegally selling shit like your location data to random people like bounty hunters, and the FCC just slapped them with a fine that's 0.02% of their yearly incomes and debated even doing that? I even can offer a source on that)

...I don't trust much of any authority cause they constantly fail me and kinda screw me. Don't trust doctors either, but I still gotta go to them, you know? ...they're just... they're real bad at listening... so many systems need systemic change

(You know who I really don't trust is the cops. I could point to so many examples. My uncle doesn't trust cops either, and he's an ex Fire and SWAT paramedic, he worked with them and we still got into a long conversation where he basically tore into them far better than I can)

(I don't trust authority that's not accountable)

[hyperfixation-tangentopia]

Randomly got surged with love for my dog, hug your dogs everyone <3

[justanothertraveller42]

Can the people who Ticketmaster come over here. I just. I just wanna talk, you see. No no dont mind the folding chair that im holding. Its uh. Definitely, like. For sitting. Hmm??? No no im just stretching thats why im holding it over my head. On a completely and utterly different note could you come a bit closer? Just a bit :) itll be fine :)

[bisexual-horror-fan]

Have a job interview tomo morning, here is hoping it goes well!

[vagueiish]

turns out i am a special little snowflake and nobody has ever felt the way i have and nobody can relate and im just. gonna be alone and shitty and garbage forever

[theood]

Really thinking about legally changing my name now. I was waiting for... Reasons. Some real some just because I didn't feel like I could but like. You know.

[starsofang]

Single Dad!Simon who vowed to never trust another woman again after his failed past. He was locked up with the key thrown away, permanently off of the market.

At least that’s what he’d told himself for years. Now, he was beginning to have cold feet.

Simon needed a nanny, one that he could trust completely. He didn’t play about his child, and he’d be damned if he got set up with someone of ill intentions.

But, he was desperate.

Price needed him back periodically, even after his retirement, and he agreed. After all, money was tight when he parented on his own with a growing child.

That was when you came in. Soap had been a pal and recommended an old family friend, somebody he knew Simon could trust with his kid. Simon was skeptical, of course, but Soap had never done him wrong. Reluctantly, he agreed.

Simon wanted to have a trial period to see if you were truly built for the task. He wouldn’t let you off easily. His child was his world, and women weren’t exactly in his deck of cards when it came to trust.

You were as sweet as honey upon the first meeting with a smile that could outdo the sun. Your voice was soft as rain, flowing out of you like a summer song. You spoke to him with the upmost respect, and even more so with his child.

Simon knew he could trust Soap in guaranteeing somebody safe. You were the perfect candidate. He just didn’t know it would lead into him feeling emotions he’d buried a long, long time ago.

Attraction. Interest. A crush, dare he say, like he was a stupid high school kid that just saw the prettiest girl in class and fell head over heels.

He had a silly crush on his child’s nanny when he fully intended to keep it short and professional. That was the way he operated. He was like a working machine, and you had undone his mechanics so easily to the point he struggled to function.

Seeing you with his child only caused his attraction to fester deeper. His child became attached to your hip, smiling more than they had ever done, rambling nonsense to him every time he returned home and you left to go to yours.

It was becoming hard to deny it. You opened an old wound of Simon’s, awakening that deep and dreadful loneliness he felt every passing day. Every smile, every laugh, every Mr. Riley even though you were close in age, all of it had him on the edge of his seat.

He wanted more. He was tired of denying himself happiness. The idea of pushing away every woman was still very vivid in his mind, but denying you just seemed criminal the more time passed.

“I never got to thank you for allowing me in to your home, Mr. Riley,” you told him one day, ever so sweet.

“Thought I told you to call me Simon,” he grunted, avoiding your eyes as the two of you stood in the doorway.

“Right. Simon,” you corrected with a radiant smile. “You have quite the kid, I’ll tell you that. I always look forward to coming over. It makes my day seeing the two of you.”

Simon could feel his heart pattering against his ribcage. His hands were sweaty, and he prayed you didn’t notice him swipe them along his jeans.

“Both of us?” he hummed.

“Of course. You’re just as exciting to see, too, Mr. Ri- Simon.”

Simon’s lips quirked up the slightest bit, but his heart was in his ass. For the first time in a long time, a woman was making him shy and nervous, and it didn’t feel as bad as it did before.

“You’re always free to come over for dinner,” he offered.

“That sounds great, I’d love to have dinner with the two of you!” you exclaimed, beaming.

He didn’t understand how you could be so bright yet so oblivious at the same time.

Simon cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably on the balls of his feet. “I meant, the two of us.”

You stared at him like he’d grown two heads, and he nearly slammed the door in your face from the sheer anxiety that spiked in him. He couldn’t read your mind or what you were feeling, and Simon wished he had never said anything to begin with.

“That sounds wonderful,” you said instead. Now it was Simon’s turn to stare at you crazy. “I’d love that.”

Simon realized he was staring too long, so he cleared his throat once again, giving you a brief nod and looking away. “Alright. I’ll text you a day and have Soap pick up the little monster for the night.”

When you agreed and left with the smile that made his heart ache, he didn’t waste a second in texting Soap, telling him he’d be on nanny duty for one night that week.

Soap was quick to agree, but not without a little “You’re welcome ;)” text back.

[andromeda3116]

oh boy does "it's a nightmare, and not even an interesting one" feel prophetic right about now

okay but some of the ideas in jupiter ascending are literally so galaxy-brained? like, the concept that capitalism taken to its utmost extreme would result in a "superior" (read: ultra-wealthy) class exploiting whole planets of people for their own gain? the way that the three siblings play off each other, when you're ultimately left like "shit man at least balem fucking told her he wanted her dead even though he had some seriously fucked-up emotions regarding his dead mother like holy shit can you say oedipus complex my god". but the sister is like, "the ultimate resource, the only one that matters, is more time" and that's a profound concept and also again so horrifically accurate and dystopian because she's literally stealing time from not just people but whole planets' worth of people, and has been for thousands of years, they've grown them for this purpose and of course that would be elon musk's fucking wet dream, to be able to buy himself more time, and while i don't think he or anyone else would just like. immediately jump to "kill whole planets for it" i also think that if he felt like that was the only way, he would be like "it's the Greater Good. i have Unlocked Immortality For The Human Race" and be totally blind to the fact that it was only for the rich ones, on the backs of everyone else. and yet she's still nice? just because you're a genocidal self-serving ultra-capitalist immortal monster doesn't mean you have to be a jerk about it. which is so. how the human condition works?

and yet this movie also has "bees can sense royalty" and whatever the fuck was going on with channing tatum's character and a wooden (yet somehow refreshingly horny*) love story and an exhaustingly-long chase scene that could have been thirty seconds and the Great Disappearing Sean Bean Daughter and

like it's somehow simultaneously "terrible idea, flawless execution" and "flawless idea, terrible execution"

(*in contrast to the "everyone is beautiful, no one is horny" trope, channing tatum looks like a snack and by god is mila kunis ready to eat him)

[pha55ed]

Public Enough? || CS55

type :: smut!

tw/cw :: exhibitism, heavy praising, breeding kink, fem!anatomy, mentions of pregnancy

summary :: carlos has always been so proud of you. so what better way to show you that then to fuck you right there on the balacony?

f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist || OVULATING CELLY!!!

Eating dinner on a balcony is so cliche and cheesy, something you would never imagine a man doing for you. But here you are, dressed up all fancy just to eat on the balcony of the private hotel Carlos' checked out just for you two. The sun was dimming as the water became calmer with the comfort of the moon.

You wanted to enjoy the lovely view and enjoy your dinner: but it turns out it was just a ploy. A ploy to get you to bend over the balcony, all pretty in your dress, while Carlos fucks you from behind. His hands had a firm grip on your hips, ensuring you wouldn't run away. Your neck was being kissed and peppering constantly by him. Everything on your mind was just Carlos, and you were all that was on his.

"Beautiful," he mumbles as he desperately kisses your neck again as he thrusts in and out of you. "So lucky..." He groans as if he's going to get off purely from the idea of you being his.

"Carlos-" You whine as he thrusts up harsher into you from his own name. You would assume he's a narcissistic but he quickly explains.

"Say my name again and I'll cum," he says breathlessly as he stops thrusting for a moment just to move his hands to your jaw. He guides your face to his, making you make-out with him. You didn't have to worry about a single thing, whether that be money or whatever position you're in. He made sure you always had princess treatment.

While his tongue was in your mouth, he starts to thrust again, this time slower. He's more desperate, needy. As if he's savoring every moment with you. He only breaks the kiss to quickly look out to the streets below.

"I wish someone could see." He says, beginning to speed up his thrusts. "See your face, your body," he mumbles as his hand moves to play with your breast. "Watch my cum drip out of you.”

He buries his face in your neck, “And once you’re pregnant,” you can feel his dick twitch. Carlos has never been shy of his want to get you pregnant, no matter if it “halts” his career.

“Carlos,” you try to sound intimidating,warning him to not cum in you.

“You’d be so pretty pregnant, cariño. So so beautiful.”

[tarotsoul]

ghost in the wind — part three

summary: as feelings progress and truths unfold, you're left with a decision that could end your entire existence as you know it. the mother has a path for every soul, perhaps this was where yours was supposed to end.

warnings: swearing, mentions and brief descriptions of sexual abuse, consensual sexual themes, mentions of death and suicide.

word count: 5.8k

series masterlist

Feyre Archeron could never begin to imagine the pain and horror her older cousin had faced in the mortal lands. Rhysand hadn’t shared that image, hadn’t shared the memories he’d witnessed when he took some of that pain away from you. 

She didn’t need her mate to share those visuals. Not when she felt every ounce of anguish through their bond. And every day since then, she had not been able to forget it. 

Another two weeks had passed since your arrival, three in total of your being in the Night Court, and you were finally beginning to work through your trauma. 

The offer had been there to find your own place of residence, to have that independence if you so wished. But after speaking with Feyre and Rhysand, after learning it was in fact Nesta who had imposed the leave Y/N be rule… you realised just how much you loved living in the House with your family. 

Your friends. 

So when you’d finally accepted Mor’s desperate pleas to take you shopping and fill your empty wardrobe…

“You’re going to need another dresser.” 

You blinked, taking in the mess around you. Your entire closet was stuffed to the brim with dresses, blouses, sweaters, coats…

And the pile on your bed…there was no chance of those articles of clothing fitting in the closet too. Nesta was right, you definitely needed another dresser. 

“Rhys is going to lose his shit when he finds out how much we spent.” 

Your eyes widened at Nesta’s words, not quite picking up the teasing tone she spoke in. Mor shot her a look and threw a sweater at her face. 

“She’s kidding,” Mor reassured. “My dear cousin has more money than sense. This won’t have even made a dent in his wealth.” 

A relief, but that guilt began to creep its way into the pit of your stomach nonetheless. You were ashamed to admit that while you had fun shopping with Mor and your cousin, you hadn’t even taken a moment to realise how much everything had cost. 

Nesta threw herself onto your bed, right on top of the throng of clothes you needed to find a place for. “I’m thinking we raid Rhys’ wine cellar tonight…”

A gleaming smile radiated off Mor’s face in agreeance and they both turned to you with upraised brows, expectant. 

You pursed your lips, an apologetic smile on your face. “I told Rhys and Feyre that I’d babysit Nyx tonight.” 

Nesta huffed and threw herself back on the mattress again, clothes bouncing and crinkling as she did so. Mor raised another brow, as if that wasn’t a good enough excuse. 

“So? I’ve gotten drunk while watching Nyx loads of times.” 

Nesta seethed at her. “One, that’s my nephew and I never want to hear you doing that again. And two, Y/N’s tolerance to alcohol won’t be as strong as ours. Two glasses and she’d be borderline incapacitated.”

Despite the slight insult, a laugh bubbled up your throat at just how right she was. Because you’d never even drank a sip of wine in your life, and Nesta knew that. 

“I’m surprised you don’t have plans with Azriel…” 

Mor was prying, you knew that. But you had no control over the heat that made its way across your neck and face. 

“We’re just friends.” It wasn’t a lie. You’d spent a lot of time together the past couple of weeks, and he was one of the only people you felt truly comfortable around. 

Mor gave you a knowing look. “Mhm, tell that to his shadows.” 

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

Nesta scoffed, sitting up again. “Az’s shadows are basically an extension of himself.”

Mor hummed. “They don’t do anything unless Azriel commands it. Or sometimes, they’ll do something based on his emotions or thoughts. They’re so friendly with you because Azriel likes you.” 

Your cheeks burned. You hadn’t realised his shadows touching you was a product of Azriel’s emotions. And the more you thought about it, there hadn’t been a time since you met him that they hadn’t touched you in some way. 

You didn’t say that, though. No. Azriel clearly had no qualms about other people noticing, but that did not mean you were willing to gossip about it. 

You did not need to allow silly fantasies to root their way in your mind. Azriel was your friend. And you were okay with him only wanting you as such. 

Within an hour, Mor had disappeared to tend to her own duties and just as Nesta was about to leave for hers, she grabbed your wrist and motioned for you to look at her. 

“I’m proud of you, you know.”

She didn’t need to say anything more. Those words were enough—more than enough. She saw you, she recognised everything you had been through and everything you did every day to overcome it. 

I’m proud of you. 

The last and only person to have ever told you that was your mother. 

And because you saw her too, because you remembered fhe young mortal woman she was before her own struggles of turning Fae and adjusting to her new lifestyle, you found yourself saying, “I’m proud of you, too, Ness.”

Nyx had been wonderful to look after that night. 

You’d gotten all the cuddles and boyish giggles, the beautiful little smiles and a few stinky diapers to go with it. You loved every moment with the little babe, and when Rhys and Feyre returned from their night off early in the morning, you offered to sit with him again whenever they needed it. 

But despite how fulfilling and wonderful it had been, it had also hurt. You wondered if you’d ever be blessed with the opportunity to carry and birth your own child. Wondered if you’d ever even find someone to want you in that way. 

Especially within Prythian. 

It was another late night for you, though your reading sessions had taken you from the lounge to the library. And you no longer spent them alone. 

Azriel sat on the couch opposite you, his nose deep in a book as you watched him. In the past week, you’d spent a lot of time together. It ranged from walks into the city to sitting and reading in the library until early hours of the morning. 

You’d grown accustomed to his presence, his scent often able to calm any anxiety or qualms you felt. He had noticed, of course, he wasn’t a Spymaster for nothing. But Azriel did not mention the change in you whenever he was around. 

He basked in it, in the way you appeared so much more comfortable with him. You weren’t afraid to speak up, to ask questions or acknowledge whatever was on your mind. 

You were coming out of your shell and it warmed Azriel’s heart to know that he was somewhat of the cause for it. 

“What does salacious mean?”

Azriel blinked repeatedly as your voice broke him from his thoughts. Salacious? His throat tightened. You’d often ask for definitions of things you were unsure on, sometimes even asking how to pronounce words you had never come across. 

But salacious? 

“Are you reading Nesta’s romance novels?” He quirked a brow. 

Your lips involuntarily pouted at him, your own brows furrowing just slightly as you rested the open book back into your blanket-covered lap. “Yes. Why?”

Anxiety creeped its way into your stomach, rooting deep into your flesh from the inside out. Reminders of how this used to go flashed through your mind and suddenly, it felt like you were back in the village, back in the mortal lands and living with Rafe. 

A tendril of darkness peaked at the corner of your vision and you focussed on it, watching it slowly dance across your knuckles and weave between your fingers in a calming manner. 

Shadows. Azriel. Library. Velaris. Safe. 

And just like that, the anxiety un-clawed its roots and crept away. 

Azriel nodded ever so slightly to the book, knowing exactly what had just happened with you but acting as if he didn’t. “Salacious means…having inappropriate interest in sexual matters.”

There was no hiding the heat on your cheeks—the way it burned your soft skin. You tore your gaze from his as quickly as you could, unable to contain your slight shame and embarrassment. 

But Azriel did not mind one bit. 

Azriel had secrets. He supposed that being the Night Court’s Spymaster, it was to be expected. But these secrets were different from the others, something he kept locked tight in his mind for the past month. 

And it wasn’t the secrets that had him moving closer and spending all of his time in the lower level of the House. No. That was very much you and your presence and whatever it was in your soul that called out to his. 

He couldn’t stay away—though, it wasn’t like he even tried—for that pull was far too strong for even his willpower. 

He had suspicions. Suspicions of a golden thread that started in his chest and ended in yours. He knew it was far fetched, knew he was only hurting himself by entertaining the complete insanity of the idea. 

You were human. Mortal. And mortals didn’t have mates. He told himself so every day, and right after, like clockwork, he countered his own sound advice with the one thing that had been troubling him the most.

Because what mortal could plant and bloom a patch of tulips with nothing more than a thought and a touch. What mortal could speak so clearly to the earth and create life right before another’s eyes. 

Despite the possible threat that could pose for his court and his family, Azriel had kept that tidbit of information to himself. Just for now. Just until he could make sense of it. Then, and only then, would he bring that information to light. 

Because Azriel did not feel any ounce of danger or ill intent from you. He did not feel anything but warmth and intrigue and that godforsaken sensation when you grew excitable over something. 

He couldn’t take that from you. Not when you were finally coming out of your shell, finally talking and laughing and going as far as joining him and Cassian for training twice a week. 

“If sex makes you uncomfortable, there are other romance novels without that.”

Heat warmed your skin again. Shadows dared to intertwine with your fingers. 

“No, it’s not that.” You played with his shadows, allowing them to caress your skin. “Sex doesn’t make me uncomfortable. I’ve just never had a good enough experience to understand much.”

He didn’t push, didn’t ask further questions. You wouldn’t be embarrassed for this, for something that was not your fault. You wouldn’t cower anymore, hide what you felt or thought. No longer would there be repercussions for speaking your mind. 

So you spoke again. 

“Rafe was the only person I’d ever…it’s just different to read it, to have it described as something enjoyable.”

Azriel’s knuckles turned white. Something enjoyable. He’d never experienced it to be anything but. His soul almost cleaved in two at the thought of what you’d endured. 

Azriel dared to glance at you again. “Sex with the right person can be very enjoyable. It should be nothing but beautiful.”

He stiffened then, blood thumping in his ears. His shadows stilled, noticing the shift in your scent just as their master had. Sweet, all consuming arousal, and Azriel did not miss the way your thighs pressed together in impulse. 

He swallowed thickly. 

You broke his gaze, your own heart thumping sporadically as you stared at the pages on your lap. You couldn’t help your mind wandering to thoughts of him, of experiencing that with him. You knew it was wrong. So, so wrong. 

“The thought of being intimate like that with someone new…” You couldn’t find the words to express the fear and anxiety that came with that thought.

Azriel listened intently, breathing deeply. 

“I want to experience life the way it should be experienced. Not the way others have pushed it upon me.”

He leaned forward slightly, resting his book on his knee. “You control your life now, nobody else. If you want something, despite how wrong that desire may feel at first, take it.”

You wondered then if he could see into your mind as Rhysand could. If he could feel that shift in the air. If he could smell it on you. That want and desire. You would not apologise for it. Not anymore. 

“But if it feels wrong, is that not my guts way of warning me?” You countered. 

Azriel smiled, just barely. His knuckles still white. “It’s your guts way of protecting you. Because you’ve never experienced anything beyond what others bestowed upon you.”

Gods above. 

An ache fluttered in your chest, just above your breast and you absentmindedly rubbed at it, disrupting the neckline of your shirt. Azriel’s eyes squinted at the exposed skin, at the mark that adored your flesh. 

“Are you hurt?” His tone was primal, protective. 

You paused your movements, following his gaze. “Oh, no.” You pulled your shirt a little lower. “Just a birthmark.”

He needed to compose himself, needed to stop allowing his mind to wander about other areas of your concealed skin. He felt like nothing more than a big brute. 

Your soft, airy giggle woke him from his daze and he looked over to find tendrils of darkness caressing any inch of your skin that they could. Gods, if he didn’t have a leash on his emotions around you, how could he control his damned shadows. 

“It’s like they have a mind of their own.”

They didn’t. But he couldn’t correct you. Not without exposing the fact that they only fed off their masters emotions and desires. Not without exposing the fact that Azriel wished he was the one touching your skin and not his shadows. 

He swallowed again, throat dry. 

“Nesta told me that they’re an extension of yourself. That they only act if you will it.” You didn’t know why you said it, why you thought you had the right to speak that truth. 

But you would not apologise, even as Azriel remained silent for a few moments. Partly out of shock, partly in awe. But that was another thing he would not speak aloud. 

“Sometimes they can act on behalf of my emotions. My desires and wants.”

You dared to meet his honey eyes. “And that’s what you want?” You were breathless, a feeling in your stomach that you’d never once experienced before. “You want to touch me?” 

Neither of you knew where this confidence had come from, but Azriel did not question it and you did not apologise. 

He shouldn’t say it, shouldn’t repeat the words that echoed in his mind and soul and body. But, Gods…he could not seem to regain any semblance of control when he stared into your eyes. He could not lie to you, could not hide what he felt. 

“I want to do a lot of things.” The admittance was barely audible, nothing more than a breath he’d been holding but you heard it all the same. As though you’d demanded the words out of him. 

You couldn’t look away, even if you tried. Your entire being was encapsulated by him. Your chest heaved, legs ached. The shadows slowly left your shoulders and neck, returning to their previous position at your fingers. 

“But above all, I want you to be comfortable. Happy.” 

Something compelled you to stand, the shadows seemingly guiding you to their master as your book toppled to the couch. He watched with a hungry gaze, one full of faltering self-control. 

If you want something, despite how wrong that desire may feel at first, take it.

Take it. 

Take it. 

“I’m comfortable with you.” 

The shadows moved like a breeze between you both, tugging you closer and closer. Nothing else mattered, not in that moment. Not when your soul felt like it was singing, like it was exactly where it longed to be. 

Azriel stood slowly, towering above you once at his full height. You strained your neck to meet his gaze and he bent his to come closer. You could feel his breath dance with yours, could feel his hard chest press upon your soft one. 

No part of you felt nervous, no part of you felt unworthy. 

But Azriel…he didn’t know what to do. For weeks he’d been dreaming of this moment, dreaming of the taste of your lips, the touch of your skin. He slowly raised a scarred hand to caress your warm cheek, and you didn’t cower or shy away from his touch. 

A test, perhaps. To see if you really could handle the intimacy of another male so soon after what you’d endured. You didn’t falter, didn’t break his gaze. He wanted you, more than he ever wanted anything else before. 

“What you went through…”

“I don’t want to talk about what I went through,” you cut him off. “That was then, this is now. I don’t want to live in the past.”

Take it.

Take it. 

Your lips…so close to touching his. 

The shadows swirled in delight, excitement.

Azriel knew this wouldn’t be just a kiss. This wouldn’t be meaningless. He felt it, in every part of him, he felt the way your entire being sang to his. He wanted to lay his soul bare before you. 

He itched to brush your hair behind your ear, to hold you and taste you. But Rhysand’s voice echoed through his mind, beckoning him for his assistance. He closed his eyes, huffed out a breath.

“Rhys is calling for me.” 

Azriel stepped away, removed his palm from your skin. You swallowed, stepping back and letting your eyes fixate on the rug beneath your feet. He cleared his throat, struggling to reign in those shadows of his. 

“I’ll come to you tonight…we can talk then.”

But had Azriel waited just a few moments longer, had he given into the urge to brush your hair from your face, he would’ve noticed the slight point that had formed at the top of your ears. 

Azriel didn’t meet you in your chambers that night. And you didn’t see him the next morning. Or the day after that. 

Cassian had mentioned that Rhys sent him on a mission. That he would be back in a few days. 

But something was wrong, you could feel it in every inch of your body. An ache that only got worse with every passing moment. You tried to ignore it, tried to relax in a hot bath with soothing lavender oils. Nothing relieved the pain. Nothing soothed the ache.

And when you left your bathroom and found your once round ears now pointed, and a trail of tulips following in your wake, your legs carried you toward the kitchen before you had a moment to consider it. Cassian and Nesta sat at the table, giggling over their breakfast when you stumbled toward them. 

“What’s happening?” Your panicked tone caught their attention, eyes wide as they stood and took in what lay before them. 

From the stone ground, moss and grass and flowers bloomed as though you stood in the middle of a field. Daisies and buttercups sprouted in your hair, roots of trees tangling around your limbs. 

Everything was so loud yet muffled. Like every word was screamed in your ear but somehow underwater as Cassian called out frantically to Rhysand. Neither of them went near you, even when Rhys flew through the open balcony doors, Feyre in tow. 

They looked at you with nothing less than concern and fear. 

“What in the Gods is happening to me?!” You demanded. 

Rhysand held Feyre back as she attempted to near you, his gaze locked on you as he assessed the situation. But it wasn’t the flowers or grass or roots that he watched. It was you, and the way your crescent-moon birthmark glowed something violet. 

Rhys had known, had suspected something lay dormant within you. From that moment he entered your mind, when he gazed upon that luscious field that seemed to call to you with promises of something new. 

He’d never witnessed such before. Not in the most powerful of Fae had he ever stumbled across that. 

With a very careful step forward, his gaze demanded yours. Feyre had told him of your mother, of her death and your marriage to Rafe. And his voice was soft when he finally asked the question that had been on his mind ever since. 

“What happened the night your mother died?” 

The world went still, cold. Feyre whirled to him in protest. 

“Rhys—“

“—it was a house fire.” 

All eyes turned to you, to the patches of bloom that haltered their growth. 

Rhysand took another step closer. “Where were you?” 

“I—“

A heat unlike any other licked at your skin, waking you from your peaceful slumber. A heat so unwelcomed that you bolted upright in a sheen of your own sweat. 

You could hear the wood of your cottage crackling under a burning flame, and smoke quickly infiltrated your room. You coughed, attempting to swat it away as you squinted in the darkness. 

“Mama!?” You called out, panic stricken in your voice and body. 

Fear began to cripple you, began to take away any sense of self preservation. You couldn’t leave your bed. Your door now engulfed in flames, you screamed. 

“Help! Someone, please help!”

No one was coming. This was the end. You couldn’t move, couldn’t get to your beloved mother. A shrill cry, unlike anything you’d ever heard before, split your heart in two. 

A scream of pure agony and fear tore through your throat, your eyes clenched shut as you gave your body over to the fire. 

Only the next breath you breathed was clean and cold. And your sheets were no longer beneath you, no. Now you laid on the rich soil outside of your home, your fingers rooting themselves into the dirt. 

You screamed and sobbed, unable to do anything but watch as the fire claimed your home and your mother. 

You were sobbing, collapsed to the ground as you struggled to breathe at the memory. 

Rhysand dared another step closer, kneeling before you now and his eyes held such sorrow, such remorse. 

“Y/N…” he spoke softly. “Was your mother ever accused of being a witch?” 

Nesta seethed, threatening. “Rhysand, that’s—“

“How do you know that?” Everything felt very, very still. No one should have known that. No one of these lands should have known that. 

Rhys didn’t answer your question. And despite the sound of large wings breezing through the sky, you did not look away from the High Lord. Not even as Azriel rushed into the House and his heart sunk at what he bore. 

“The day I entered your mind and took some of your pain away, I felt something. Something within you that I have never, in my 500 years of life, felt before.”

Azriel took a step closer. He should have said something when he first noticed the flowers. Because now, whatever power you had…it was consuming you. 

“I’d like to try something,” Rhysand proposed. 

You struggled to keep your breathing even. “What is it?” 

Another step closer, a warm hand on yours. 

“I’d like to enter your mind as far back as it will allow me. Just to see if I can find something.”

Violet eyes watched yours. “Find what?”

He squeezed your hand in reassurance. “Something to make sense of this.”

A moment of pause, to take in your surroundings. The flowers and soil had sprouted to cover the entire expanse of the lounge floor, your friends and cousins standing just beyond the brush of it. 

Eyes flickered to something hazel. Azriel. He stood in the soil, flora coating his ankles and he struggled to keep a tight leash on the shadows that fought to reach you. 

You looked back at Rhysand. 

“Will it hurt?” 

He shook his head. “No, not if you don’t resist.” 

That suddenly sounded an awful lot like your past. Memories of Rafe pinning you to the bed—scolding, reprimanding, promising no pain if you didn’t resist. 

This wasn’t like that, you had to remind yourself. You were safe. They only wanted to help. To understand. 

Azriel stepped closer, ignoring the silent warning that Rhysand whispered into his mind. A scarred hand out held, you took it. And Rhysand took that moment of distraction to enter your mind. 

The first memory he saw was one from just days before. You and Azriel reading in the library, the shadows that swirled your fingers and arms, the near-kiss that escalated into nothing. 

He dug deeper. The next, of you and Azriel again, exploring the city where you left a trail of green and brown tulips in your wake on the embankment of the river. 

Deeper and deeper, until the memories showed you living in the mortal lands. A blow to the face, to your stomach and your head. Rafe seething above you as he shouted and belittled you. 

Deeper, to a memory of your husband pinning you to the mattress, of his body crushing yours as he stole everything you never offered. 

Every memory Rhysand met, you re-lived them. 

A little deeper and he was watching you at the Archeron household, helping Elain plant seeds, watching Feyre paint, reading with Nesta. 

Deeper and deeper he went, passing the memories of the fire, of your mother, until he found exactly what he was looking for. 

“She is my child too, Selenthia. You cannot keep her from me.” A voice you did not recognise. A memory you did not recall. 

“For her protection, I will do what I must.” Selenthia seethed, coddling you closer to her chest. “No one can know what she is, or she’ll be hunted for the rest of her life.”

The unknown male huffed. He was beautiful. Tall and lean, strong and commanding. But there was something about him. Something not quite right. 

“So you plan to lock her away for the rest of her life?”

Selenthia bared her teeth. “I would never lock my child away. She will live her life as a mortal. I won’t subject her to a life like mine or yours.”

A moment of silence. “You cannot hide her from what she is.” He spoke softer now, edging close to peer at you, his daughter. 

“What do you plan to do when she first bleeds? When her ears point and her power grows—“

“That won’t happen.” There was no room for discussion in Selenthia’s voice. She placed a finger over your heart, a familiar violet glow permitting from her skin to yours. 

“What are you doing?” That male’s voice, cold once more. 

“I’m burying her power. So long as this wyrd remains on her skin, she’ll be safe.”

Selenthia pulled away, just enough to take a look at the mark that marred your skin. A mark two shades darker than the rest of your flesh, the shape of a crescent moon and no larger than a fingernail. 

“There. Nothing more than a birthmark.”

Rhysand retreaded from your mind, panting and shaking. Tears streamed down his flushed face, your own skin staining with silver, too. 

“What is it?” Nesta demanded, daring a step closer. 

But those tulips and daisies and buttercups…the soil and grass and roots, they all began to sink into the ground until nothing but the florals in your hair remained. 

“My mother…she…she was a witch. A healing earth witch. And my father—he…”

“Your father was Fae.” Azriel breathed, his eyes focused on the point of your ears that peeked through your hair and flowers.

“He was of the Night Court. A High Fae male.” Rhysand added gravely. 

Azriel’s hold on the shadows loosened and he allowed them to caress you, comfort you. Your hand never left his. 

You pulled away from Rhysand, clutching at your chest—at that crescent moon you always thought was a birthmark. Your mothers protection all along. 

“When you crossed the wall into the Fae lands, your power tried to break through. It was your mothers mark that had been keeping it buried with you all these years.” 

You dared a look at your cousins. But they looked at you with nothing but sorrow and anguish. No fear. They did not fear you, they did not pity you. In their eyes all you could see was longing. A longing for you to no longer live in such agony and hardships. 

“Our mothers were sisters. Does that mean—“

“I don’t think so,” Rhysand cut you off. “If they held the magic you do, I believe their power would have shown by now. They were Made. So it’s possible the Cauldron could’ve interfered with it if that were the case.” 

It was too much. All of it. Reliving those memories again, seeing your father… You couldn’t do this. Couldn’t have magic and powers. You could not be half Fae, half witch. 

It would be easy to give up. It would be so easy to ignore it until it killed you. So easy to just let go of everything. But a pounding in your soul begged you not to. Begged you to fight with everything you had. Begged you to live. 

“Burn the mark.” 

All attention snapped to you, flickering from your face to the mark on your chest that finally stopped glowing. 

“Are you insane?” Nesta seethed. 

You looked at her. “I don’t think I’d be far off to guess that if I don’t burn this mark, this…power will consume me entirely. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to be so lost because I have no idea who I am. This is who I am, whether I like it or not. I won’t run anymore.”

Feyre stepped closer, crouching to your level and taking your spare hand in hers. Azriel still held tight to the other. “If you wish to burn it, it will unleash whatever power you have at full force. You don’t have any training, any control over it.” 

You felt sick to your stomach. “I don’t want to die, Fey.” 

And that was enough to enrage Feyre in a way she’d never once felt before. “You are not going to die. Do you understand me?”

Azriel squeezed your hand, begging for you to look at him. You couldn’t. You couldn’t stomach the thought of him looking at you any different than he had three days ago. 

“Rhys, fetch Madja. We will burn the mark in a controlled environment. Where any fallout can be contained.”

You shook your head, not willing to risk a single soul because of your selfish decision to live. 

“No,” you said. “Drop me to the mountains and I’ll burn it myself.”

Nesta scoffed. “Oh, you are insane.”

You seethed at her. The first ounce of anger you’d truly shown. The first time you’d ever directed it at anyone but yourself. 

“This isn’t your decision. I will not risk anyone. Azriel can take me to the mountains and you can all keep your distance. At least until it’s safe.”

Until it’s safe. As if you knew for certain you’d survive it. You truly weren’t sure you would. There was nothing more to discuss, your tone made that clear enough. 

“Fly me, winnow me…whatever. Just do it now before I change my mind.”

Within a blink, your body was shivering and you were no longer in the House of Wind. Shadows encased your entire body, darkness swarming every inch of you. You said nothing as Azriel held you, nothing at all as he flew you across Velaris and toward the highest mountain just outside of the city. 

Only when he landed, when he refused to remove his hold from you, did the darkness dissipate and hazel eyes gazed into yours. 

“I’m staying with you.” 

“No, you’re not. I won’t risk your life, Azriel.” 

He set you to your feet, holding your hands now to keep you close. A plea of desperation swam in his eyes, his entire body yearning to take you and find another way to fix this. 

“There is no other option. If I don’t burn this mark, I don’t know what my power might do. It might kill me, it might destroy this city. I cannot risk anyone’s life for mine.”

Azriel parted his lips to speak but you shook your head, squeezing his hands. 

“If I don’t survive this—“

“Don’t.”

“Please, listen to me.” Silver lined your eyes, blurring your vision. “If I don’t survive this, I want you to know how special your friendship has been to me. How much I care for you, for your family.” A sob tore through your throat. “And I am so incredibly sorry for burdening you all in this way.” 

You reached on the tips of your toes and pressed your lips to his. Warmth and love and the most raw emotion could be felt between you both. An apology for not having longer, a prayer that there would still be time. 

A fuse lit within the pit of your stomach, in the pit of Azriel’s. Tears stained your lips, stained his. In that moment, you were one. Whole, as though you always should have been. 

You pulled away first, forcing your hands from his hold. You took several steps back, blinking through the distorted vision and swiping away and evidence of the fear that crippled you. 

A puff of violet darkness misted beside Azriel as Rhysand winnowed to the mountains. Pain flicked through his eyes, regret and the same sorrow you saw in your cousins. 

You did not meet his gaze. 

“Summon a fire.”

He did as you asked. And handed you a blade. 

You did not grant them another look, did not give into the pleading in your mind to watch them leave. Or else you would’ve seen Rhysand drag Azriel off that mountain. You would’ve seen the anguish on the Shadowsingers face. 

Alone. As you had been your whole life. Though the weeks spent in Velaris had given you a taste of what could’ve been. You’d treasure those memories in the Hereafter. Those and the precious ones of your late mother. 

For they were all you had left. 

You did not allow another tear to fall. Not as you hovered the blade over the flame, not as you tugged your shirt down and took a deep breath. 

For if all you were ever meant to be was a ghost in the wind, you were content to know you’d reunite with your mother soon. Where you would no longer feel such pain. 

You didn’t want to die. But if this was all the time you were fated to have, then so be it. Better you than someone else. 

“Keep them safe.” A whisper to the winds, if they deigned to listen. 

With a final breath, you pressed the scorching blade against the mark on your skin and the entirety of your captive power unleashed upon the mountain as your body allowed it to consume you. Until you saw and heard and felt nothing at all. 

From below, the city shook, a thundering boom and a gust of aftershock and pelting mountain debris that blew the Inner Circle back. 

Then there was silence. 

And Azriel’s soul bellowed. 

a/n: so a LOT happened in this chapter and there is still a lot more to happen, i'm hoping i can fit it into two parts but it may be stretched into three, we'll have to see!! i'm so grateful for all the love you guys have been giving this series and i am so excited for you to find out how it all ends!!

if you enjoyed it, please consider giving it a like and reblog, your feedback is always appreciated <3

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[nyursi]

𝐂𝐀𝐓 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐑!ㅤpart one.

꒰ † ੭‎ㅤNSFW 18+ㅤ(MDNI)...  in a series of successful heists, the infamous cat burglar is finally caught and is left with the mercy of his victims to decide his fate.ㅤノㅤnot proofread.

ᡴꪫ‎ TODAY'S SPECIAL!ㅤdiluc, zhongli, heizou, (here, part one) alhaitham, dottore, and wriothesley (part two)!

WOULD YOU LIKE SPRINKLES? (っω=`)ㅤm!rdr, degradation, tummy bulge, biting, breeding, impact play, petnames, hair-pulling, public sex, and more.

                 ㅤ ⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝

THE DARK NIGHT HERO'S NEW QUOTA...

featuring impact play, hair pulling, exhibitionism, (semi) public sex, and diluc.

killing slimes and dealing with drunkards both day and night quickly became a boring routine for diluc. but he finds such creatures easier to deal with more than a certian eye-patch wearing man.

so when he hears of the burglar who causes trouble nation after nation, finally arrived in mondstadt, diluc can't deny his curiosity.

the name he made for himself was quite odd, never actually thinking a cat burglar would come to life. but life has its ways. and in the nature of life, it's only normal to take hold of this situation. diluc deserves a break anyway.

and now here he is; thrusting relentlessy into the warm heat of the damned 'cat burglar' who attempted to rob him. wanton whines of different octaves escaped your drooling lips, and claws extracted to find purchase on the cobble walls of diluc's manor.

"dumb boy, who were you trying to fool?" your sensitive ears twitched when diluc spoke so close—even more when he grazed his teeth light as a feather against them. "n- no one!" you whined, wiggling your hips.

a tip too tempting to ignore was given to you a while back, claiming that the house ragnvindr had riches to spare for little ol' you. too bad that mister diluc had a tip himself, though much more eye catching and valueable. as half of the mondstadt ladies would fume with jealousy, wishing it was them being split apart by diluc's cock. and not some nimble cat eared boy.

your eyes welled with tears when a stern hand yanked on the hair from your scalp, eliciting a humiliating moan.

god, everything about him is so... big!

from diluc's reputation, wealth, to his physical attributes, diluc as a whole was domineering.

cheeks flushed an embarassing red when your eyes met his, and your tail swished out of your control. "pl- please... 'm close!" such desperate pleads fell on deaf ears, as diluc had no intention to listen to your words.

he counted mentally, giving you time to shut up. and when you didn't stop your dumb begging?

"ahn!~" your eyes widened when a harsh smack landed on your ass, causing your whole body to jolt forward. diluc took ahold of your temporary weakness, and forced your chest to meet the cold stone wall.

with your hard nipples and swollen cock rubbing on such an odd texture, the pleasure of it all caused you to near an orgasm. "you moan so sweetly," diluc grunted, planting his hands on your hips roughly.

"it could compete with the grapes in this yard."

oh yes. was it too embarassing to mention that you never managed to sneak in his manor at all? what was a stupid kitty like you doing anyway, wearing a suspicious cloak and prowling about diluc's courtyard.

he seized you then and there.

it's too bad a 'skilled' burglar like you was caught before your plan was in action.

"but unless you want to get caught, i suggest you tone it down." your eyes fogged with lust as diluc shoved his fingers down your throat, coating them with your saliva.

then you came. harshly. your cum splat against the wall, and rubbed against your skin as diluc went faster. course, your little cock was still between your body and the stone, forcing you to take the pleasure that hurt.

diluc soon followed, covering your insides with a creamy white, one that you wanted inside you forever.

one thing you knew now; no money in diluc's manor would ever compare to the treasure below his belt.

                 ㅤ ⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝

RE-AWAKENING OF THE GEO ARCHON...

featuring biting, breeding, double penetration, frottage(?), and zhongli (but morax).

it was no secret that the geo archon was the scariest of all. but with his charming looks, you somehow thought a similar personality would follow.

oh how wrong you were.

"please morax, have mercy on me!" you landed on your knees, body quivering as you felt morax's cold stare upon you.

he tsked, shaking his head. "weak mortals like you shouldn't be making the decision here." morax cooed at you with pity, running his rough palms over the top of your head.

an accident it was, really. for you to stumble upon his abode—and bask your greedy eyes to the glory of his shining hoarde. a large pile of gold and other trinkets was enough for you to trudge forward and grab an armful of wealth.

with your mind focused on the heavy riches you were carrying, your feline ears couldn't hear the heavy footsteps of this hoard's owner.

you were one of the unlucky few, as this den was ruled by the geo archon himself. morax.

"are you defective? surely these little ears of yours are much more sensitive than that of a humans." he mused, eyeing your trembling body.

an uncontrolled whimper broke your silence. morax was scary, definitely! but he was far too mean for your liking. but you had no choice other than to pray that he would forgive you.

"well," he started. anticipation built every second, and you were hung on his every word. "there is one way you could repent."

and here you were; laid limp in his arms. boneless as you eyed his large dicks, both erect and leaking. rubbing against your hole. you attempted to look away, but morax quickly took ahold of your jaw.  "don't look away, this is your own doing, boy."

morax nipped on your ear, making you yelp. "oh don't whine, that was nothing compared to this."

in a split second, one had slid in entirely, leaving not a single inch uncovered. he was buried to the hilt. and you were full. morax wasted no time and quickly began to find rhythm, while you haven't even adjusted to his size.

"a-ah! wait please!-" it was an odd yet pleasing sensation, morax's cock rubbed against places you've never touched before, making you see celestia. "m-moraaaaaaax!~"

uncontrollable tears dripped down your red cheeks when his other dick was forced against yours. he wrapped his hand against both, and began moving it up and down. squeezing your heats within his palm.

the size difference between you two made him laugh; saying something about 'it barely counted as a cock, and how it resembles a pathetic pussy instead.'

your hips twitched, mind reeling. mouth wide open yet no sound escaped when you felt air breeze on your leaking tip once again, as well as the similar pressure against your hole.

morax bit your shoulder, and at the same time he sunk you down on both of his cocks. "i knew it, a boy like you was made for this."

he plowed upwards and his hands brought you downwards, kissing your prostate in a harsh and quick manner, like he wanted you to orgasm quickly. "gh!- gonna... gonna cum!"

eyes squeezed shut and toes curled, cum spurted out and landed on your face. but morax didn't stop. not until he fucked you full.

"you're gonna be a pretty kitty knocked up," he said, taking an arm beneath your knees and forcing them to your ears. "pregnant with my eggs."

"i'll breed you again and again," morax grunted, in a final thrust his cum quickly flooded your insides. "until you learn not to steal."

it's a shame you can't get pregnant. but no worries, morax will make you feel like you could!

                 ㅤ ⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝

A DETECTIVE'S LUCKY LEAD...

featuring orgasm denial/ruined orgasm, dry humping, face fucking, and heizou.

you were a bit too confident in your abilities. it's not your fault! all of your previous heists were succesful, but it did make you believe you were untouchable.

so you didn't think twice sending a hint of your location to inazumas detective. not like he was gonna find you anyway.

that's what you believed.

and how wrong you were.

"what? didn't think i'd believe your little trick? with a slimy cat like you as my target, i have to take every given opportunity." heizou sighed, as if he was disappointed in you.

currently, he had you pinned with your back to the wall of some random abandoned building.

"you really had me stressed, you know? what do you have to say for yourself, kitty?" he looked into your eyes, smirking when you couldn't answer.

you were ashamed. even more so when shikanonin had begun to grind against you, your clothed cocks twitching with pleasure from the friction. "mmngh..." your eyes averted to the ground.

heizou grabbed you by the thighs, bringing you up. in a quick reaction, you quickly wrapped your legs around his waist. this allowed him to grind i to you harsher, hips moving in a tandem. "i can feel a wet patch down there, what a slut you are. i bet you dreamed of getting caught!"

"no! i-i didn't!" you shook your head violently, tearing up from both his mean words and thrusting. to prevent any moans to leak out—you bit your lip.

with every second that passed by, your erection quickly fought against the tightness of your pants. "aww, you're hard?" heizou cooed, flicking the tip of your cock.

"ahn!~" you flinched when he continued his assault on your dick, non-stop flicking and slapping, causing your back to arch from the wall. "he-heizoou! nooo!" mindless babbles with tears in your eyes from the painful pleasure, a shiver of pleasure ran down your spine.

but as quick as that feeling came, it quickly went as well. you were left heaving from the ruined orgasm, tail curling around heizou's arm.

"stop whining, naughty cat burglars like you don't deserve to cum." you heard the sound of a zipper being undone, as well as fabric falling to the floor. "but if you're really thaaat desperate,"

he paused.

the detective grabbed the top of your head, and forced your face against his bulge. "then suck, like a good kitty."

with a determined fevor— you suckled on the delicious bulge through his boxers. soon taking his hung cock out, and wasting no time taking it into your mouth.

you slurped, and hollowed out your cheeks, using your tongue to trace every vein down heizou's impressive shaft. but he was too big. you had barely taken in half of it! and that wouldn't do.

"you really are useless, aren't you?" heizou sighed and took matters into his own hands (literally.) he grabbed the back of your head, and pushed his hips forward. making you swallow the whole thing.

"mngh!" the both of you grunted, heizou sighed out in pleasure, feeling his cock head reach the back of your throat.

the waterworks flooded when he began to thrust in and out. you felt the heaviness of his dick on your tongue everytime he moved, and archons was it amazing. hearing heizou moan and even whimper because of your mouth sent butterflies to your stomach, and you wanted more.

so despite the trouble you had breathing, you pushed on to bring the detective to his orgasm.

work hard to get the delicious, savory, creamy, and rich milk from heizou! it'll cure your sore throat right away.

vanillaclaws 2024.ㅤdo not repost.

[luvyeni]

⚔️… ( drabble ) never let you leave ! ୨୧ 一 이희승 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ ヾ

yandere!heeseung・ reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・fingering , manipulation wc ・ ‎0.8k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

request. y/n & heeseung are on a break from their relationship even though hee opposed SOOO to get her to come back he kindof stalks her & makes her feel unsafe so she asks him to come back & protect her .. . ??

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 im a little rusty with yandere i hope you like it !!!

he was too controlling, he never let you be; always calling when you were out with friends, or out at work — or just in general he was always calling. he did this under the premise of “there are bad people out there” or “im just trying to protect you.” you could take it anymore. so you broke up with him, told him you just needed space.

he didn’t take it well at first; and you expected that. he cried, begged you to stay; he said he couldn’t live without you — that probably would’ve worked in the beginning, but you were tired. “i don’t even feel safe with you anymore heeseung, being with you scares me more than anything now.” and with that you left him.

he left you alone after that; you didn’t even see him anymore, in fact you didn’t see him for almost a month after that. his friends said all he did was stay home and play games, which made you sad, but this was for your happiness, so you couldn’t just back down. “as long as he gets the help he needs i wish him nothing but the best.”

heeseung in fact wasn’t getting the help he desperately needed. in fact he was getting worse, he was dying without you; he felt like he couldn’t breathe because he wasn’t near you — well not as close as he wanted to be.

you began to feel it a month later; you let your guard down, and that’s when you began to feel like you were being watched. you tried to ignore it, but it was hard when it was all the time, even in your apartment. you began to close the blinds. but that didn’t work, you felt like you were exposed in your own house.

“it’s heeseung isn’t it?” you friend said, you shook your head, quick to defend the boy. “no jake said he’s getting help.” what you didn’t know is that heeseung was always one step ahead of you, watching you. waiting for you. he saw your every move; even in your home with the cameras he installed.

you couldn’t take it anymore; you felt like you were going insane and nobody believed you, they thought you were just exhausted from work or something. “you just need sleep.” how could you sleep if you felt like someone was watching you!

you began to think maybe heeseung was right, maybe he was the only one that could protect you. maybe the world was too dangerous for you. which is why you found yourself knocking on his door. “poor baby.” he saw your tired state. “you look so tired.” he smiled to himself as you let yourself in. “i can’t sleep, i can’t go out alone, im scared someone will hurt me.” you rushed to say. “didn’t i tell you that?” he said. “you didn’t listen, now look.”

you wrapped your arms around him, and he wanted to hug you back; but he had to teach you a lesson — don’t ever think about leaving him again. “hee im so tired.” you looked up at him with those eyes. “yeah?” he said. “let’s get you to bed then.”

he guided you back to his room, laying you down on his bed. “please don’t go.” he smiled, laying next to you. “im not.” his hand was resting on your stomach. “i won't go anywhere.” his hands now moving. “you can just stay here with me.” you moaned softly. “heeseung.” he kissed the side of your head. “you don’t even have to go out, i’ll make all the money and spend it on you.” he said cupping your heat. “fuck you’re so wet.”

you couldn’t believe you fell for again, allowing his fingers to explore your insides like before. “you missed me?” you nodded. “use your fucking words.” he growled. “missed the the way i held and protected you.” he said. “the way i fucked you?” his fingers curled, hitting the spot that made you moan. “fuck hee please keep going , i need you.” you cried out. “need you so bad.”

he sped up, your hips following his movements. “you’re mine, everything you do is because i give you permission to.” you’d complain if he wasn’t fucking your open with his fingers. “you understand, you’re mines, your body is mine, your mind is mine?” you were desperate, ready to cum. “fuck yes hee im yours.” you screamed. “i’ll never leave again i promise.”

that was all he needed, before he whispered into your ear. “cum.” and it was like your body was finally at peace, your mind too. “hee.” your breathing was heavy from your orgasm, eyes heavy from your long exhaustion. “shh, go to sleep.” he said. “when you wake up we can handle me okay.” he held you softly in his arms. “im fine holding you just like this.” you slowly drifted off to sleep in what you thought was the safest place at the moment — but you couldn’t be far from wrong.

because you in fact were sleeping right in the arms of the reason you were feeling so unsettled and by time you woke up you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it… you gave yourself to him.

you were his now, all his and was never gonna share you again…

©️LUVYENI

[sebsbarnes]

unspoken part 2 || minho moon

minho x reader

summary: you don’t even see me, yet, i would walk through hell and across any sea if you asked me.

part one here!

warnings: angst! grammar errors most likely

word count: 1.1k+

masterlist

you've kept your distance from minho since the night at the gazebo. it was hard to fully avoid him since the two of you belonged to the same tight circle of friends. you'd cut the nights short claiming you were tired or skip dinner and lunch with everyone claiming you were trying to save money. truthfully, you weren't even sure if minho noticed your absence. he had been thrown full throttle into the honeymoon stage with his crush that he also hasn't been around as much.

the one place you couldn’t avoid minho was class. one, because you and minho never skipped class, and two, because you sat next to him.

you had signed up for an acting improv class to fill a gap in your schedule. you hated it if you were being honest. there was nothing you loathed more than performing in front of a group of strangers or friends, at that. each week you were forced to stagger up onto the stage and begrudgingly act. however, this week may have been your worst nightmare. the professor instructed that a small group of students would write short stories and the others will be randomly selected to perform one. of course, the performance was partner work and of course, you were assigned with who you sat with, and what a shock, you and minho were selected to perform later on in the week and not write.

minho’s head was buried deep in his phone the entire class. you weren’t trying to snoop, but it felt as if your eyes were magnets and minho’s screen was a beautiful big magnetic field. the text messages were littered with hearts and cute stickers. in a measly attempt, you acted as if you weren't staring when his head turned.

“i’m planning on officially asking them out this weekend,” he smiled.

you sucked on the inside of your cheek, desperately trying to suppress any negative remarks, “that’s… lovely.”

god, you felt horrible that you weren't being a supportive friend but you couldn't fake excitement for minho when your heart was crumbling to pieces.

most days you wished would pass quickly, hoping the sun would set early and the moon to take over signaling the start of a new day. this week, however, you wished twilight never came and time stood still so you could avoid the end of the week. unfortunately for you, that wish was never granted and you sat at your desk, drumming your fingers, patiently waiting for what was to come.

professor kwon summoned you and minho up to her desk and handed you each a copy of the short story you were about to perform.

"seems like your writer is quite fond of romance," she remarked as the paper slotted into your hand.

minho turned back to your shared desk without looking at the story but your eyes rapidly darted over the words before you scoffed, the papers nearly crumpled in your hand, "i'm not doing this professor kwon- this is," you laughed, "-this is not happening."

professor kwon's sharp eyes peeked over her glasses, "i suggest you do so if you want to pass the class. no assignment has been an issue for you before, why the sudden change?"

"it's nothing," you shook your head, anger laced in your tone.

her eyes scanned your face, lips pursed, "go practice."

with a sigh, you slumped into your chair. examining the paper and the long dialogue you had to act out almost immediately. the short story started in the middle of an argument between the two characters. it took every fiber of your being not to confront the classmate who wrote the story and ask her if she had been spying on you. the words on the page paralleling your current situation with minho in a way that was almost eerie, taunting you in your dismay. desperately, your mind spun of any ideas to get yourself out of this moment, but you heard minho start.

"just tell me!" minho pressed, acting in character.

your throat felt tight but you started nonetheless, “i can’t keep pretending that you don’t cloud every corner of my mind and every thought i have. some have called me crazy, said i was addicted to the idea of you, the idea of us that will never be. the us that will only exist in the quiet corners of my mind, hidden from the world. a sanctuary i preserve and escape to daily. and maybe- maybe they are right,” you paused briefly as your eyes started to sting with tears. you refused to look up at minho as you felt his eyes bore into you.

“you don’t even see me, yet, i would walk through hell and across any sea if you asked me. i would bear the brunt of any injury to have you notice me.”

a shaky exhale escaped your lips as you finally looked at minho, his gaze unwavering, “and… i love you. but, we will never be more than just a one-sided confession,” you whispered.

briefly, you stayed glued to your seat watching as minho’s expression became hard to decipher. the realization of what you’ve done came crashing down and you quickly threw the papers onto the desk and shot up from your desk muttering incoherent words and dashing out of class. you were gone before you could hear the whispers of the class asking each other what happened.

minho's features contorted in confusion as he watched you rip open the door and leave, but truthfully he was feeling confused before that. as he sat there listening to the words of your character, it felt too real. he observed the way your lip slightly trembled between words and the glaze of your eyes. he was wondering why his heart rate accelerated and his palms became clammy. his throat was tight and it felt like two tons was sitting on his chest, slowly and agonizingly piercing through his skin and crushing his bones and heart. there was a tiny voice in the back of his head cheering 'finally' as he listened to your character's words, words he wished were your own.

minho glanced back at the now abandoned script. he followed the lines until he noted your monologue was cut short. minho's eyebrows pulled together in confusion as he frantically flipped to the next page, searching for the remainder of the lines. he swallowed harshly as he realized you added in the last few sentences, the words that hit him the hardest.

“and… i love you. but, we will never be more than just a one-sided confession"

was nowhere on the script.

automatically his feet were moving at a rapid pace into the hallway. there was no sign of life beyond the echo of his thumping heart and heavy breathing.

____________

a/n: soo hehe did i mention i'm notorious for writing angst. i can't believe how many people loved part one so i had to continue this. ty!!

tag list: @5sos-saucyy @bangchansgirlsblog @tmr-simp7193 @animeenthusiastxoxo @tearsinmylatinaeyes345 @teaandbacon @mesmerizedkoo @byungazed @myselfsabotage @ferniessss

[please-destroy]

Chin Up

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

.

When you first met Natasha, she had blue hair. 

She was awkward, limbs growing faster than she knew what to do with. Still skinny enough to be drowned by a band t-shirt that needed the sleeves rolled up. 

You were the new kid at school. You were even more awkward.

On your first day, you saw her sitting alone at lunch. The cafeteria was overwhelmingly busy, seats at every other table were being fought over. You tried to keep your chin up as you walked the length of Natasha’s otherwise empty table, sliding onto the stool across from her. 

Natasha’s head snapped up from her book at your arrival. It was a beaten up paperback, spine folded back on itself. 

‘Any good?’ You asked cheerfully, if a little desperately. Just one friend. That’s all you needed. The other children made wide berths around you in the corridors, as if you were more alien than stranger. 

Natasha seemed frustrated by your inquiry. She closed her book quickly and stuffed it back in her bag.  She stared down at her half eaten peanut butter sandwich, purposefully avoiding your nervous smile.

You didn’t know what you’d done wrong.

‘Sorry.’ You muttered, heat flaming your cheeks.

You started to bounce your leg anxiously under the table. You picked at your own sandwich. You weren’t hungry, but you didn’t want to look even weirder than you already were. 

A lump caught in your throat as you looked across the rest of the cafeteria. You felt jealous of the easy banter between the other large groups of students. You wished that it could be you. That you could fit in, just this once. 

‘Sometimes they steal my books.’ Natasha said unexpectedly. Her voice was carefully even. She tightened her loose grip on the strap of her backpack.

You glanced back out at the sea of students. Their playful banter had a mocking edge to it that you hadn’t noticed before.

‘That sucks.’ You answered fiercely. 

Natasha rolled her eyes casually, taking another bite of her sandwich and retrieving her book again. You took a deep breath, settled by her returned nonchalance.

You felt hungrier and refocused on your lunch. As you ate, you zeroed in on a group of girls across the room. They were laughing as they ripped pages slowly from another beaten up book. Your mouth opened in shock.

‘They’re the worst.’ Natasha spoke up again, casually following your gaze. Her tone was dismissive. 

You didn’t speak. You stared at your fingers as they twisted together atop the laminate table. Anxiety rolled through you.

So far, none of these kids seemed to like you. You weren't even sure that you wanted them to. The next few years of education stretched before you ominously. 

Suddenly, you felt a plastic wrapper graze your forearm. You startled and looked up. Natasha pushed the chocolate bar across the table with her fingertips.

‘My mom always packs two.’ She informed you with a shy shrug. 

One of the kids at this school liked you.

You smiled again.

‘I like your blue hair.’ You blurted as you took the chocolate bar. 

Natasha’s cheeks tinged pink. You caught the way she lifted her chin up when she next met your eyes. 

‘Thanks.’ She mumbled, awkwardly offering out her hand to shake. ‘My name’s Natasha.’ 

.

Natasha was your first friend. For a long time, she was your only one. 

Then, one day she was no one at all. 

.

You didn’t see her again until 2012. 

.

When your best friend had first gone missing, the stories that swarmed the neighbourhood were unbelievable.

There had been no warning from the family. No phone number, no forwarding address. 

The first rumour was that loan sharks were after Natasha’s Dad. 

Then, men in suits came knocking on the neighbours’ doors. The rumours shifted to something more criminal; money laundering, fraud. 

Bullies at school laughed at you. The joke was that you’d somehow scared off the second weirdest kid in school. You grieved Natasha’s disappearance alone.

You sat through classes silently, dreaming up a hundred reasons to justify why Natasha might leave you behind in a place like this.

Nothing could have been more far-fetched than the truth. 

A super spy.

You were watching the live news broadcast when New York was attacked. Everyone was. 

You stared at raw footage of an alien race invading the planet. Nothing could be more shocking, you thought. And then, you saw the Avengers.

Natasha did not look the same. 

No more awkward and gangly; no more blue hair. 

It was the familiar tilt of her chin as she stared up at a passing spacecraft that jolted your memory.

You knelt in front of your TV, trying to get closer to the impossible picture. 

Two days later, the city officials held a large press conference. It was hosted on the first floor of the new Stark Tower. Steve Rogers and Tony Stark were in attendance.

Tony Stark called her ‘Red’ off-handedly.

That’s what gave you the idea.

There was nothing else you could think to do anyway. Natasha Romanoff had the shortest Wikipedia entry you’d ever seen.

You addressed a letter to Stark Tower in the hopes it might reach her. It was beyond a long shot, but you had to try. 

It was hard to explain the national feeling of adrenaline that lingered after the attack. It almost seemed like sure fate that Natasha would reply. Aliens were real and Earth had won. Impossible odds were being beaten all the time.

It was not that easy. It took six months for you to hear a response. 

Your phone buzzed in the middle of the night with a text. 

Despite the late hour, the message was carefully constructed. 

You used to be able to read Natasha’s nervousness a mile off. When her Dad called her home early. When the teacher called her out for exceptional work in class. When you asked her favourite Christmas present and she stumbled over the answer.

‘Thanks for reaching out.’ She began, formal with her friendliness. ‘I do remember you and I appreciated your letter. We should catch up soon.’

The text sounded distant, but you felt certain that she wouldn't have sent it if she hadn’t wanted a response.

You tried to picture the woman that you’d seen on television, but all you could think of was the blue haired girl.

Despite everything that had happened. Natasha was still Natasha.

You called her. 

She answered after two rings. Vindication rippled over your skin, you were right.

‘Hi.’ Natasha breathed out.

Her voice rasped unfamiliarly.

Your heart twisted as you heard all the years that had passed. 

Natasha Romanoff was an adult now. 

‘I’ve missed you so much.’ You told her before you had time to think.

You heard her muted surprise in shallow breaths.

‘I missed you too.’ She murmured after a moment. There was a pang of emotion in her voice, you could feel it down the phone. ‘You were my best friend.’

Your stomach swooped strangely at her words.

You tried to play off the feeling. You sighed with mock dramatics.

‘Now you prefer the Hulk right?’ You teased.

‘Oh yes.’ Natasha hummed, picking up the easy pattern of your teenage conversations. ‘He’s much better company.’

You talked for twenty minutes, mixing nostalgia with light inquiries about her new life. 

Before the call ended, Natasha invited you to visit her in New York.

It was an easy answer to give. 

When you hung up the phone, you held it close to your chest for a moment. The room was beginning to grow light with the dawn outside.

.

Natasha was not an awkward teenager anymore. 

She waited for you in the entrance of Stark Tower, dressed casually in leggings and a hoodie. 

It was unnerving. She was almost familiar to you. 

Your eyes met as you entered through the glass front doors. 

Natasha hugged herself, playing with the grey fabric of her hoodie.

You remembered the nervous gesture. You wondered if she still had the habit, or if she’d just remembered it because of you.

You sensed her uncertainty as you got closer. You opened your arms for a hug and she looked grateful for the direction. 

She fit perfectly. 

Your eyes filled with tears as her arms tightened around you. 

When Natasha pulled away, she gave you a confused look. 

You shook your head, swallowing down the lump in your throat. 

‘I always hoped you were okay.’ You mumbled, wiping your cheeks, embarrassed at how quickly you’d gotten emotional. ‘Fuck, I’m so glad you’re alive.’

Natasha’s eyes shuttered with a sudden blankness. She tried to shake it away too. 

‘No-one’s ever said that to me before.’ She murmured under her breath, before leading you back to the Tower’s elevators.

You pondered her words during the silent elevator ride. Natasha’s life was clearly full of danger. She was on the front line of extra-terrestrial defence. She’d fought monsters on live tv. 

You thought of the fake American Mom and Dad you’d been introduced to. You thought of the little sister, who had seemed so devoted to Natasha. 

Now no one was waiting for Natasha to come home safe. 

In the elevator you took her hand, squeezing it gently.

Natasha looked at you, eyes crinkling with simple happiness. She squeezed back. 

‘Red hair suits you.’ You commented. ‘But, I preferred the blue.’

Natasha rolled her eyes with mock exasperation. The elevator doors opened. 

.

The space was obviously built to be a common area, but it was empty now. 

Natasha led you right through the middle of it. 

You entered her room, following behind her. You stopped in the doorway, trying to take it in.

As a teenager, Natasha’s bedroom had been wall-to-wall with bright posters. In contrast, this room seemed almost clinically blank. A single piece of understated art hung on the far away wall. The bedspread was pristine white, like a hotel.

Your eyes clung to the only piece of personality in the room. A stack of CDs and a CD player lay on the hardwood floor, next to the largest window you’d ever seen. You recognised the top CD’s cover art immediately; Nevermind by Nirvana.

You looked at Natasha in surprise. It had been her favourite album when you’d last known her. 

Natasha met your gaze readily. There was a glint of defiance in the tilt of her chin. 

‘Oh, so you still have good taste.’ You grinned.

There was a pause. Natasha’s lip twitched with the start of a smile. Then, she hugged herself again.

‘I loved those songs.’ Natasha whispered, and her sudden fragility startled you. ‘It was the best time.’

Her eyes were careful, but you felt the emotion hiding in them. You moved forward again, hugging her instinctively.

‘The best time.’ You agreed quietly.

You spent the afternoon listening to the album, then another one, then another. The CDs were well played. Sometimes the disc would catch for a moment, but the song would always persevere.

You didn’t feel the need to talk. 

Natasha sprawled out on her bed, head cupped in her hands as she faced you. You sat on the windowsill next to the music, leaning your head against the side and watching her in return. 

You exchanged smiles back and forth. You exchanged memories of the songs with just a twitch of an eyebrow or the quirk of a lip. 

Natasha’s finger tapped at the side of her jaw absentmindedly. 

Eventually, time moved on. When one album finished playing, Natasha swung her legs over the side of her bed and stretched casually. You didn’t believe the nonchalance for a second, sure that such a smooth gesture must take forethought. 

‘Dinner?’ She asked and you nodded with a smile, ready and terrified to meet her roommates.

Captain America offered you a bowl of pasta.

The weirdest day of your life only got weirder. The other Avengers were sitting around watching a large flat-screen television. Natasha picked her feet up as she stepped around their legs, heading to the furthest away sofa. 

You followed behind her, muttering quiet hellos in answer to the openly curious stares of Iron Man, Hawkeye and Dr. Banner.

Natasha tucked her legs underneath her as she sat in the far corner of the sofa. 

Automatically, you followed a habit that had been established years before. You threw yourself casually into the space directly next to her. Your fork snuck over to her bowl of pasta, stealing a piece. You tasted it and grinned.

‘Yours is always better.’ You complained, watching as Natasha stuck her tongue out in response. 

You only remembered your audience when Tony Stark cleared his throat.

‘Did she tell you that she’s a ruthless assassin.’ He stated loudly, receiving a not-so-subtle elbow jab from Captain America.

‘What?’ Tony retorted, rubbing his side pointedly. ‘She’s never brought a date home before. And there must be a reason she’s called the Black Widow.’ 

You watched Natasha from the corner of your eye; the sudden embarrassment spilling over her face. The shame that lingered for a split second.

‘Not all names are literal.’ You answered bitingly, feeling an old defensive urge flaring. There had been enough bullies going after Natasha when you were at school. ‘We don’t call you Micro-Penis Man, do we?’

Hawkeye snorted with laughter, Dr. Banner’s lip twitched. 

‘Clever.’ Tony drawled sarcastically. 

You ignored him, turning back to Natasha instead. Her expression was unreadable as she searched your face. You didn’t know what she was looking for. 

You sat in silence for the rest of your meal, watching the generic movie on screen instead of engaging in more awkward conversation. More than once though, you felt the curious stares of the others lingering on you.

.

As soon as you’d both finished eating, Natasha led you back to her room. This time, the air inside felt different. You caught the loosening of her shoulders, her subtle relief at returning to her own space. She threw her hoodie on top of her bedspread.

You glanced back around the room, realising abruptly that the minimal design wasn’t meant to feel clinical. It was more reminiscent of a spa. 

You caught Natasha’s attention and gave her an encouraging smile.

‘Nice digs.’ You commented, raising your eyebrows.

Natasha laughed once, voice so much richer than you remembered. She ran her fingers through her hair. Your eyes caught on the muscles flexing in her bare arm. 

‘It’ll do.’ She shrugged teasingly. ‘It’s nicer than Ohio.’

You sniffed dramatically. ‘Less alien attacks in Ohio.’

‘Just Russian infiltration.’ Natasha countered dryly. A tension shivered through you as she finally acknowledged the unspoken. The childhood friendship that had brought you here and the lie at the centre of it. 

A burning sadness bubbled up inside you. You could taste it burning your throat. Your eyes pricked suddenly with tears. 

Natasha stared at you with confusion and something akin to fear. 

You moved toward her, watching as she resisted an urge to step further back. You took her hands in yours. You blinked and for a moment, her hair was blue.

‘I’m going to say this wrong.’ You explained ruefully, holding her wide eyed attention. Her palms were warm, soft and familiar. 

‘I’m on your side.’ You promised clumsily. ‘Even if you decide to join the aliens. Even if you don’t want it. You didn’t stop being my best friend.’

You waited for an evaluating stare, a moment of hesitation. 

Instead, you felt the soft push of Natasha’s head pressing against your shoulder. Her body moved flush against yours. Your arms slid around her back. You felt the curve of her spine beneath her clothes. The thud of her heart, hidden within a ribcage.

‘There’s a spare room ready.’ Natasha murmured at last, words muffled. ‘But maybe you can just stay in here.’

Natasha held her chin high as she took a step back, regarding you expectantly. 

A wide smile broke out on your face. 

‘A sleepover? On a school night?’ You teased, enjoying the way your acceptance brightened Natasha’s countenance too. 

.

You changed into your pyjamas in Natasha’s ensuite bathroom. You brushed your teeth and stared at yourself for a few minutes in her large mirror. 

You wondered how different you must look to her now. If she noticed all the traces of growing up laid out on your skin. 

Natasha was beginning to feel eternal. 

You left the bathroom and froze almost immediately in your tracks. 

Natasha was standing beside her bed, putting on her pyjama top. It was halfway over her head and her bare back faced you. 

You couldn’t stop your sharp intake of breath. 

Scars littered her soft curves.

Harsh, deep welts that hurt to look at. Her skin was mottled in places, coated with different shades of injury. Some scars were older, but others seemed painfully new. 

They criss-crossed into a brutal painting, brushstrokes feverishly ripped across her skin. 

A sharp sense of outrage was already burning through you. A need to fix what had already been done. 

Natasha had already pulled her top down calmly, turning to face you with steady resolve. 

‘I’m not ashamed of them.’ She said with simple directness. 

Natasha kept her chin up as you walked closer to her. You noticed the slight tremble in her jaw when you were inches from her. She held her arms still at her side and you wondered if she was resisting the urge to hug herself. Defensiveness rippled through her. A readiness to hold onto her dignity.

You had seen that stance many times before, in the high school cafeteria. 

For the first time, you realised that Natasha did not remember you like you remembered her. She could not recall the simplicity of teenage drama and stupid crushes. 

A lifetime of trauma sat between you. There was no before or after with Natasha. She’d had scars long before she’d had blue hair.

There were no words for your new understanding. Your chest squeezed with something like love or sadness.

‘I know.’ You answered her at last. You shrugged helplessly. ‘I just wish I’d been around.’

You touched Natasha’s face without thinking, a careful stroke along her cheek. Your fingers reached her hair and you touched a piece of it reverently. When you looked back to her face, Natasha’s eyes were closed. 

Your kiss was feather light. Your lips barely brushed hers. The taste of her stained your mouth anyway. You felt yourself reorientate like a compass finding North. 

Natasha’s eyes fluttered open, her smile was shy. You still saw the fear lingering at the edge of everything. You chose not to mind it. 

.

You slept in the same bed that night. Natasha held your arm lightly between her own. 

Her even breaths lulled you with their gentle rhythm. Loose strands of her hair tickled your clavicle. 

You stared at the ceiling and thought about intimacy. About love and friendship. 

The lingering tattoo of Natasha on your lips was spreading through your veins now.

At 3am, an alarm sounded.

Sudden and pounding, it echoed from the ceiling. A droning tempo that had you scrambling to your feet.

Natasha grabbed your arm tiredly, halting your sleepy confusion

‘Avengers alarm.’ She informed you, her voice crisp and clear. You felt like you’d barely blinked before a dressed Natasha Romanoff was walking out the door. 

All the words you wanted to say were still on your tongue. 

.

Seven hours. 

Seven hours spent pacing the common room. Watching an unhelpful news broadcast and hoping the building’s AI system might finally tell you something useful. 

Seven hours imagining the worst. Seven hours praying for her to come home. 

.

When the elevator doors opened at last, you were beside yourself. 

‘Thank God.’ You muttered as you hurried forward, pulling Natasha into a tight hug. You breathed her in. ‘Thank God.’ You repeated, more for yourself than for her.

When you let her go, Natasha took a moment to look at you properly. 

‘You waited.’ Natasha commented slowly, her gaze never wavering. 

You nodded silently, a lump caught in your throat. You couldn’t understand her expression. You didn’t have time to think

Her hand touched your waist. With one finger she reached over, tilting your chin towards her.

She licked her lips, full of intention. 

Her mouth pressed softly against yours. 

You were a compass and she was North.

.

When you fell in love with Natasha, she had red hair.

[melminli]

BANG BANG BANG lll

summery - thanos was always just such an easy person to argue with. you really hated the guy and that was something that was never going to change, even if your life was on the line and it fucking was.

pairing: (thanos) choi su-bong x fem. reader

word count: 2.8k

contains: violence, drug use and addiction, dark content - just usual squid game stuff really

a/n: many wished for a part 3, so here you go!

prev. | masterlist.

Money, money, money - must be funny, in the rich man's world? And you know what, it probably was. Though, it wasn't as if a single fucking person in this room would know that. Otherwise, you all wouldn't be here in the first place, would you now?

There were a few among you who couldn't shake off the desire to understand those lyrics, even if it meant risking your lives for it. Well, and by a few you meant more than half of the people around here. You would bet that they would put even more on the line if they had anything else, but no - your own life was all you had and maybe well, the life of the others around you.

All it took was stuffing a few banknotes into a golden piggy to make all the other pigs hope that it could be them up there - that they could be the lucky person that got the money. It seemed to be true, you could take people's lives but not their stupid hope. The one thing that would still be the demise of many, it had to. The prize money wouldn't increase without their sacrifice, after all.

Everyone knows how stories like that ended. You know, the ones where desperate people fight against each other for a chance? Watching all the glowing faces when the prize money was announced after the first game ended, was like watching a beaten-up dog that someone put outside - only to lure it back into the house with a bowl of food. It was just sick. Well, at least it made you sick.

Your lower lip wouldn't stop quivering and you tried to stop it by biting it, but to no avail. You were sweating while still freezing simultaneously and you were very much familiar with the signals your body was trying to send you. However, you tried to ignore them as best as you could, just like you did with everything else right now.

“Hey, you're really not going to talk to me? What if I die in the next game and the last thing you did was ignoring me?” Thanos' incredibly annoying voice spouted some bullshit again as he leaned against your bed while standing up. He had been trying to get your attention for a while now but you were stubborn and continued to show him your back. He raised an eyebrow questioningly as he nudged you with his hand. “Do you really want this on your conscience? Hey, are you serious? I thought that -”

Thanos stopped what he was saying when you turned aggressively to face him with a rather angry look on your face. He slowly brought his hand back to him as your eyes continued to glance at him with that look. “No, you don't think and that's the problem.” you spat out the words full of venom and tried to control yourself when your eyes shifted to the blue label with the circle on his chest. “Why should I care if you die in the next game, huh? You obviously want to keep playing, you -” and you searched for a word to curse him out, but there just wasn't one that could wrap up your feelings at this moment.

It happened again - he took another chance away from you to just live your life. Maybe it wasn't entirely fair of you to blame him when it was a whole group of people who had voted to stay here, but you stopped caring about what was fair a long time ago. “Whatever, nothing matters anymore anyway.” you laughed out in exasperation as you ran your shaky hand over your face. “I'm going to die next round anyway, but I guess that suits you pretty well, huh? You know, since that means that another 100 million won goes into your pretty piggy bank?”

It was a large sum of money, no question, but - was your life really only worth that much?

Thanos grabbed your arm in annoyance as he shook his head in disbelief at what you were saying. You weren't just a sum of money to him and he didn't understand why you would think that. Yes, he admitted that he fucked up all the time and he had never been the best friend to you, but - if there was one thing, one person that he could care about - that would be you, no questions asked. He still did after all these years, even if he didn't say it, even if he did it in his own twisted way. “Are you crazy? Stop talking stupid shit, you're not going to die!” He exclaimed angrily, not even considering that as an option. “If you'd just stop being so fucking stubborn and join my team, you'd know that too.”

You laughed. “What team? You and your little boyfriend back there?” you asked him as you looked at the guy a little further behind you. He seemed like a good tag-along waiting for his boss. How cute, you were about to throw up. “I doubt you two idiots are going to increase my chances of staying alive.”

Thanos looked at you offensively. “Nam-su is not my boyfriend, okay? And we may still be few, but that will change soon. Can't you just - please trust me? Please?” he just straight up started begging and to be honest, you didn't have much energy left for any arguing at this point.

You wish you had the privilege of being able to say that everything was easier back when you two were kids, but your life was exhausting even then. Your mother had too many children with a deadbeat man like your father and after you were born, they put all their hope in you for some reason - to get them out of their miserable poor lives. You weren't some hero, not then and not now. “Do you know why I have so much debt?” you finally asked Thanos tiredly and he just looked at you silently before shaking his head.

You nodded. Of course, he didn't know, you had never told him since you preferred to cut him off. “Because I lost my scholarship at university after they found out I was a fucking crackhead,” you answered him with a depressed smile. “And it doesn't really help much to be smart or anything if you don't have any money. That was my only chance to pay my way through to not end up like this but now I have to figure out how to pay for all that without working myself to death at a fucking minimum wage job,” you told him.

You thought you could finally get rid of some of the stress - try again with the money you would earn here. Simply giving up your studies wasn't an option, since that would mean that you had to work shitty jobs which didn't pay much for your entire life and not just while studying. You refused to face the same fate as your mother - dropping out after she found out that she was pregnant with you was the first mistake that led to many more.

But of course, you would never complain ever again - hell, you would much rather prefer working every night shift in the world if that would mean that you could get out of here. “And you know what I've been thinking ever since? That if I had never asked you as a stupid kid if I could play with your Iron Man figure, none of this would have ever happened to me.”

This is just fucking great. Fucking bullshit. Thanos angrily smacked himself on the head, knowing he deserved all of this. Yeah, you probably even made the right decision by cutting him out of your life back then, but he still couldn't help but continue to be selfish and want you. He wanted you in his life even if he was the worst thing that ever happened to you because you know what? It didn't change the fact that you were still the best thing that would ever happen to him.

He had been a selfish asshole his whole life and that wouldn't change now, so he couldn't just let you go. “Look, it's just one more game. The money we would have gotten if we quit wouldn't even be enough to buy a Lamborghini and I have to afford at least…” he had to strain his head a little and count with his fingers. “…four of them to pay off my debts. Hell, maybe enough people will die in the next round and there'll be even some left over. I'll also give you back all the money I owe you, I promise! And I'll give you even more if you need it. I want to help you, I really do,” he tried to explain, knowing that he would have more than enough once he took Myung-gi's share too.

He just doesn't understand. You sighed tiredly. “Whatever, I don't really care anymore,” you said and finally gave in. “Okay, sure, I'll join your stupid loser team. Just stop bugging me.”

Thanos smiled broadly and didn't stop himself from pulling you into a weird hug. “You won't regret this! I'll take care of you, okay?” he clarified, and even though he claimed the opposite, you couldn't help but feel like you'd regret it - you always did. “We're going to get out of here and everything will go back to the way it was before, okay?”

You just looked at him and said nothing more as Thanos continued to hold you, finally noticing your slightly poor physical condition. He knew how to solve the problem as well as you did, but even in his current befuddled state, he wasn't sure if he should offer you a pill. “Oh, um - I know this probably isn't the right time for this, but it still feels like I should ask…” he spoke up, looking down at his cross necklace.

You tried to hold back. At least for now. “Ehm, no, I'm fine -” you declined with a slight shake and nodded. “Yes, I'm fine, I'll just go to sleep - exactly.”

You could already tell that this night wasn't going to be an easy one, but as you watched Thanos and that Nam-su guy shoo a few other people out of their beds around your area, so that they could take their place, you knew for sure. How embarrassing, you thought to yourself as you pulled the blanket over your body and hoped that the lights would go out soon.

“Welcome to your second game. We will begin shortly, and this game will be played in teams. Please divide into teams of five in the next ten minutes. Let me repeat -”

I guess we won't be playing Dalgona, after all. You didn't really blame the previous winner of the games, too much. After all, he was in the same shoes as all of you.

“So, we need two more people,” Nam-gyu stated correctly as Thanos confidently slapped him on the back, not doubting picking the best from the pool of players. “Yeah, let's see who we can find. Preferably someone with a lot of muscle and strength,” he said, although you weren't sure what the point of that was since you would be playing children's games. Although, on second thought, the strong kids always managed to win the easiest back then, too…

Thanos looked at you as he pointed his index finger at the ground. “You, wait here. We won't take long,” he commanded you as if you were his pet and you felt your eyebrows twitch slightly at the audacity while you silently watched the two guys go away.

Of course, you didn't listen to what he said and just looked around the crowd yourself when you saw how most of the players had already formed groups. I don't want to be in a team with four idiots, you thought to yourself as you saw two people who seemed to be talking to each other. They seemed to be around your age which made you a bit more comfortable when approaching them. “Excuse me…” you said shyly when you met them because talking to strangers still was something that made you a little nervous. “Would you mind if I joined you?”

The players with the numbers 380 and 125 on their chests looked slightly surprised in your direction. The woman looked at your figure briefly before crossing her arms in front of her. “We are only two, so far.” she clarified before your own number seemed to catch her attention. “Hey, aren't you the one who's always hanging out with that crazy purple-haired guy? I would have expected you to be on a team with him?”

You stroked your hair, slightly uncomfortable. "Did you really notice that? Shit, now everyone probably thinks I'm friends with this guy, how embarrassing,” you mumbled to yourself, and the girl just grinned slightly at your appearance while the shy boy looked at you in confusion. “He's like an annoying tick. He just won't leave me alone. Otherwise, I really wouldn't bother with him! You have to trust me!” you begged her, trying to salvage whatever was left of your image.

And speaking of the devil, it didn't take much longer for Thanos to shout out your name after you said that. “Hey! I told you to stay there, what's so fucking hard to understand?!” he spits out annoyed as he grabs you by the shoulders to shake your body before you can even think of hiding from him. Finally, he noticed the other two next to you. “Who are they?” he asked you as you pushed his hands away.

“I want to be on their team,” you announced.

He looked unbelieving and betrayed. “But you promised me you'd be on Team Thanos!”

“Well, I was clearly lying. So, you'd stop bugging me.”

Thanos looked at you with narrowed eyes before glancing at the two other guys he had recruited along with Nam-guy. “You two - go find another team. Now,” he said simply as he copied your posture and made a counter announcement. “Because we're going to unite our teams. You can't get rid of me so easily, you're staying with me.”

Of course. The player with the number 380 on her chest threw an arm around your shoulder as she looked challengingly at your annoying friend. “And who says that we would want to do that?” she posed the question.

Nam-gyu already knew he didn't like this one. “Hey, who do you think you're talking to -” he started to threaten her, but Thanos put his arm out in front of him before he could go after her.

There was a brief, strange silence as the rapper shifted his gaze between you and the other girl next to you. This girl doesn't look straight, is she interested in…?

Thanos narrowed his eyes as his gaze met yours again and he could feel his muscles tense at the things that were running through his head right now. Number 380 was provoking him with her actions. This shit makes me fucking angry, man. But it only took him maybe a few seconds of imagining the whole thing between you two a bit further to change his mind. Never mind, that's actually pretty hot.

“You're safe as long as the great Thanos protects you, eh? Besides, I doubt you'll find anyone better, there are only two minutes left.” he suddenly spoke out and none of you wanted to know what went on in his head in the short time that he was silent. “Come on, this is going to be fun! Who's the little guy behind you?” he asked and you and number 380 looked at each other reluctantly for a moment before revealing your hidden member.

Nam-guy let out a heavy sigh as his eyes met the loser in front of him but Thanos didn't seem to care much about that. “What's your name?” he asked, watching as the guy looked up at him a little anxiously. “Oh, my name is Min-su…”

Even his name sounds pathetic, Nam-gyu thought to himself and couldn't stop himself from voicing his dissatisfaction. “This guy honestly gives me mad loser vibes, dude…” he complained, but Thanos paid him no mind as he walked towards the member. “Nah, this is perfect - we're the perfect team! Right Nim-su?” he asked the little guy while hugging him more tightly from the side and laughing when he saw his shy reaction. “I like you, you're cute.”

Seeing the two of them together was a really weird view, you honestly felt sorry for Min-su. “I'm sorry about that…” you whispered a little awkwardly to player 380 but she just patted you on the shoulder reassuringly. “Don't worry, how those two behave is not your responsibility. I suppose we're in this thing together now.” she laughed, not sure exactly what to make of this all herself.

You smiled at her before your eyes went to the watch on the wall which showed that you all only had half a minute left before the next game would start. “I mean, I guess so…”

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