#i mean we got into a fight afterwards
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jkriordanverse · 1 month ago
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BABES YOUR DAD HIT YOU FOR A FUCKING 9.5????
eh not rly he hit me cuz he was kinda like lecturing me abt history the day before the test and accodring to him i wasnt listening enough so he hit me and then he stormed off like an angry pelutant child and then went like "let's see how much you get" and i came home after the test with a 9.5 (no thanks to him it turns out studying 40 minutes during lunch break is rly helpful)
had my y/n moment there lol 😎 ✨ 😎
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I find it fumny that people say that Elon Muskrat has the mentality of a 6 year old.
Which is offensive to 6 year olds. They're often very smart and if you explain to them what's happening they reason it and accept it.
You know what mentality he has? Of a far right aligned male, and I know this because I've met tons of them through the years and they all act the same. Hell! I live with one!
And it's always the same story. They refuse to lose, they know everything and more than everyone else, they won't listen to your arguments because they're already convinced that you're wrong, they will even deny actual data!!!
And that's what makes them so dangerous, they have absolutely no capacity for introspection.
#hong talks#Reminds me of that time during quarantine#when many studies were coming out and they were talking about them on TV#and they started talking about how many children go to school just because they get to eat#and what is the hope for those children with online classes#and he started rambling about how that's a lie and is stupid#I'M A TEACHER. I'M A STUDENT. I know this. I've seen this everyday I've spent at school.#so I told him that + the fact that he's fighting literal factual information#he screamed a me. he told me that all those polls that say our country is poor are wrong. that is impossible.#that if it'strue that 1/4 Paraguayans are hungry it means that the neighbor in front of us is hungry#WHICH IS A LIE!!!!#and like not only is that a very stupid misunderstanding of data but also is deflecting the matter at hand#he screamed and hit the table and when he realized I'm not afraid of him he got up and went to his bedroom#another time there was this classmate's dad who kept interrupting my WW2 presentation#He kept saying out loud that Hitler is still alive in Argentina because he came to Paraguay#and like everyone in the public was annoyed at him#I was 13#So i corrected him and he went ballistic with his conspiracy theories and kept repeating the same over and over again#so I said Sir there is absolutely no proof for that because we know Hitler did this and this and he just got up screamed something and left#afterwards the teacher's told me I shouldn't talk back to adults.#They're simply so entitled that they believe they're entitled to the truth as well
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millietalksra · 1 year ago
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Warnings: Blood
Been thinking a lot about dragon designs (just in general honestly) but I can’t stop thinking about what a god damn horror show Morgarath’s dragon would be in my HOTD AU. I based the head off of a crocodile so there’s some teeth from the top jaw that don’t sit right and hang out over the lower lip. It’s an albino with that’s mostly white except for it’s blood red eyes and red-pink membranes if it’s wings. It’s mouth and teeth are stained pink with the blood of its kills, and because of the the shape of its mouth there’s an eerie ever present “smile” on its face. The dragons in this au bond with riders who share similar personalities, and it’s really no wonder Morgarath bonded with a beast like this.
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*please ignore the mess on the neck I was attempting to add texture and fucked up and just left it there
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solelifauna · 1 month ago
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So this NOT to imply the writing is bad
But so far the Batfam fic as me genuinely shaking in anger , the fact that dick is convinced that y/n as to prove herself to be "worthy" genuinely got to me to the point I need a pallete cleanser
Could we please get a small drabble of reader growing close with one of the "outside" batfam members?
Like maybe Kate(batwoman) and Luke (batwing) because they are under used
Or hell, maybe to really grind the family gears, reader gets close to azrael
(you know Bruce would've able to do shit if reader got close with Kate, she would fucking eat him alive)
Hey, You're all good bro! I also just want to put out that my fic is based on an au! The portrayals of any characters in my fic are based off of their canon and fanon counterparts, just with my own twist. Since this is a darker universe/au, the Bats along with other heroes are going to be a lot more brutal and jaded.
Also love your idea bro. But, I'll do you one better. Constantine. Bruce absolutely can't stand him and the reader being friends with/getting along with him? Oh, that's bound to grind Bruce's gears. It would also be easier to meet Constantine too.
Let's just say one day the reader gets caught up in some Justice League Dark stuff that Constantine is trying to solve. She gets kidnapped by a cult that wants to use her as a sacrifice. I mean, she is a pretty huge target, being the daughter of a Billionaire after all. Anyways, shes kidnapped, nobody is coming to get her, not from her family at least. Long story short, Constantine arrives too late to stop the ritual, but things don't go according to plan for the cultists anyway. Turns out that the person sacrificed wouldn't be killed, but would instead become a vessel.
Great, now you have some old, eldrich being living rent-free in your mind. The being is old, donning the title "Keeper of Hell", but you'll just call it (they? him? her?), Adam. Yeah, Adam wasn't too happy with the name. When Constantine arrives, however, hes pleasantly surprised to find you alive. When he realizes that you, a 15-year-old, now carry the presence and power of an eldritch being older than Gotham itself, he groans while lighting up a cigarette. Looks like he'd have to deal with you now.
He checks over you making sure you have no internal and external injuries before explaining your situation. He feels a little sorry for you, but he is in no condition to train you. He asks around to other JL dark members, hoping to see if anyone is willing to help you control your new powers. He sighs again when nobody steps up to the plate, too busy with their own sidekicks and quests.
Reluctantly, he tells you he'd help you figure stuff out. And there begins the blossoming of the amazing "Grumpy old man and kid they didn't ask for" troupe. When you tell Constantine your name, he blanks, because of course he gets stuck with one of the bat's kids. However, based on your tone of voice when discussing your family (and the way you begged him not to let Bruce/Batman know of your predicament), he's guessing things aren't all too great between you all. Well, thats not his problem, his only job was to train you and make sure you don't end up accidentally killing someone.
Yeah...like that thought process is going to last. Training sessions start out bleak and professional, he's only doing a job. Then as time continues, he finds himself enjoying your company, your enthusiasm to learn and your rambunctious/sarcastic comebacks always have him fighting off a smile. It's been a while since he's had company like this. Soon, you're both going out on missions, and then ice cream breaks afterward. He lets you fall asleep on his shoulder, drooling all over his trench coat after particularly difficult missions and he can't bring himself to mind.
He's fond of you, although he never admits it out loud. It's okay though, because even though he's never said it out loud, his actions speak louder than words. You could feel his love and pride for you. Although he wasn't exactly your dad per se, he was still something to you, maybe the wine uncle? You don't know, and you don't particularly care to put a label on what Constantine was to you, you're just glad that he's there.
Shit hits the fan, however, when one day you decide to go on a solo mission. It's nothing crazy, just getting rid of some poltergeists and low-level demons and shades. Now, were you given permission to go on this mission alone? No, but in a normal teenage manner, you decide to go anyway. Everything was fine, you got rid of all the poltergeists in the area and even some of the shades too! It's all going well until you realize that the demon mentioned before was not as weak as you were told. You gulped when its blood red eyes turned to you.
"Well shit." Constantine was going to kill you.
It immediately lunges at you, you barely rolling out of its sharp claws. You hit it with a couple of spells, causing the demon to roar out in pain, burn marks now littering its side. Its tail whips at you, colliding with your stomach as you fly into a wall with a loud thud. You groan as you pick yourself up, clutching your ribs, each breath a jagged pain that ripples through your chest. Your arm is slick with blood, the gashes from the demon's claws burning as if its very essence were trying to sear your flesh. You grit your teeth and weave another spell, calling on Adam’s power to knock the demon back. This time, a burst of raw energy slams into it, shattering its leg with a sickening crack.
For a brief moment, you think it's over, ready to strike the final blow. But the demon’s leg snaps back into place, bone and flesh knitting together as if the injury had never happened.
“Of course,” you mutter under your breath. “Why would this be easy?”
The demon lunges again, and you’re just a split second too slow. Burning pain flares through your right arm as its claws tear into you, ripping through your flesh like paper. You scream, the sound involuntary, but you push through the pain, refusing to go down without a fight.
Drawing back, you unleash another spell, a sharp projectile of energy aimed at its neck. The demon flinches, letting out a low growl. That reaction—panic—gives you the first glimmer of hope. Its neck. That's its weak spot.
With renewed determination, you gather every ounce of strength you have left. The cuts across your body throb, and your arm feels like it’s on fire, but you push it all aside. You can do this. You have to do this.
You unleash a volley of cutting spells, each one aimed at the demon’s throat. It fights back viciously, throwing you around the room with a strength that makes your vision blur. Every hit you take feels like your bones are splintering, but you keep going. You keep attacking.
Finally, one of your spells strikes true.
The demon lets out a gurgling screech as your spell cuts deep into its neck. Blood—thick and dark—pours from the wound, and it claws at its own throat, choking. Its body spasms violently, and then, as if collapsing in on itself, it begins to disintegrate. In a few seconds, all that’s left is dust.
You stand there, panting, barely able to process the fact that you did it. You won. A grin spreads across your face, and despite the pain radiating from every part of your body, you let out a weak cheer.
But the celebration is short-lived.
Pain cuts through you like a knife, sharp and sudden, reminding you of just how battered you are. Blood is still oozing from the various gashes across your body, and your arm feels like it’s hanging by a thread. You stumble, nearly falling, but catch yourself at the last second.
“Crap… I’m bleeding out,” you mumble, wincing. “Whoops.”
With what little energy you have left, you remember the spell Constantine taught you, the one that would tether you to him no matter where you were. He warned you not to use it unless it was an emergency—and bleeding out from demon-inflicted wounds definitely qualifies.
You lift your shaking hand and cast the spell, a sluggish flick of your wrist sending out a ripple of energy. A portal forms, shimmering and unstable, but functional enough. Without much grace, you stumble through it, disappearing from the demon’s lair.
What you didn’t know, however, was that Constantine was currently in a Justice League meeting.
The first thing you feel is a sudden drop, like the ground beneath you has vanished. You barely register the sensation of falling before you crash, hard, onto something solid. Groaning, you blink through the haze of pain and find yourself sprawled across a massive table.
You can hear voices—muffled, alarmed—but the world is spinning too much for you to focus. All you know is that you're lying on something cold and hard, and you’re absolutely drenched in blood.
Forcing your eyes open, you see several figures standing around you, staring in shock. Your vision is blurry, but you can make out Superman’s cape and Wonder Woman’s armor. You try to process what's happening, but the pain in your arm and ribs keeps pulling you under.
"Ow, ow, ow, ow. Fuckkkk." You cry out.
Suddenly, the scent of smoke fills the air. You don't even have to look to know who it is. Constantine’s familiar trench coat brushes against your arm as he crouches beside you, cigarette dangling loosely from his lips. His eyes flicker with a dangerous mix of exasperation and barely concealed anger.
“What in the bloody fuck, kid?” he snaps, his tone harsher than usual, but the concern underlies his words.
You wince, the situation hitting you all at once. Crap. Now I've got to deal with this.
You muster a weak, sheepish grin, wincing as you turn your head to face him. “Heyyy Constantine, how are ya?”
His brow furrows deeper, and he’s clearly not amused. “What did you do?”
You swallow hard, trying to think of how to explain yourself without getting ripped to shreds—verbally or otherwise. “I—well, promise you won’t get mad?”
“Too late for that, kid. I’m already halfway there,” he growls, his eyes narrowing as he looks over your wounds. “Now get to it.”
You bite your lip, trying to find the least disastrous way to explain. “So… I sorta… mighta… gone on a solo demon-hunting mission,” you blurt out quickly, hoping he’d just move past it.
The way Constantine’s eyes widen, and the immediate twitch in his jaw tell you that he’s definitely not going to move past it.
“You did what?!” His voice rises as he stands up, rubbing a hand over his face. “Oh bloody— I thought I specifically told you not to go by yourself! And this is what happens!”
“Hey, well, I’m alive, aren’t I?” you say, grinning nervously, trying to play it off.
“That’s besides the point!” He throws his arms up, pacing as he takes a long drag from his cigarette. “Bloody hell, I should’ve known better with you kids. I swear, this is why I never—”
Just then, a dark, grim voice cuts through the chaos, and your heart nearly stops.
“Constantine,” Batman’s tone is low, authoritative. “Why is my daughter bleeding on our table?”
Oh no. No, no, no. Not now.
You freeze, your mind going blank as you feel the weight of Batman’s presence at the end of the table. You slowly, painfully turn your head to see him standing there, cape draped over his shoulders, his gaze icy and locked onto you. His usual stoic expression somehow looks even more intense.
“Ah… shit,” you mutter under your breath, groaning inwardly as you realize you’ve just landed yourself in the absolute worst situation imaginable. “I completely forgot he was still here.” Wait, did you say that out loud?
Constantine gives you a sidelong glance, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, kid, you did. And now we’ve got more than just your wounds to worry about, don’t we?” He sighs deeply, rubbing his temples, already anticipating the fallout.
Batman’s eyes narrow, arms crossed as he takes a step closer to you, his voice low and dangerous. “Care to explain yourself?”
You’re still bleeding, your head is pounding, and you’re pretty sure at least a few bones are broken, but none of that compares to the fear creeping up your spine as you look up at your father. Your mind races for an answer, but every excuse you can think of feels flimsy at best.
Constantine clears his throat, sensing the rising tension in the room. “Right. Let’s get her fixed up before this turns into an interrogation, yeah? Kid’s bleeding all over the place, and she’s already taken a beating. We’ll save the lecture for later.” He waves his hand, muttering something under his breath as he kneels beside you again.
The tension between Constantine and Batman lingers in the air, thick and heavy, but Batman finally relents. His eyes soften—slightly—as he watches Constantine work to stabilize your injuries with magic.
You can feel yourself growing weaker, the adrenaline finally wearing off as the pain becomes unbearable. Constantine mutters a healing spell, one that slows the bleeding and knits some of the less serious cuts together. It's not perfect, but it’s enough for now.
“I think it’s time to get you all fixed up, huh?” Constantine says softly, his earlier anger tempered by concern as he helps you sit up, his hand firm on your back to support you.
You nod weakly, not daring to meet Batman’s eyes again. You’re in deep trouble, but for now, at least, you’re still breathing. As Constantine gets ready to teleport you to a safer place to heal, you hear Batman’s voice, calm but steely.
“We’re not done here.”
And with that ominous promise hanging in the air, Constantine picks you up, and the world around you shifts once again.
Constantine gently carries you through the halls toward the Justice League’s med bay, muttering curses under his breath with every step. You could feel his frustration radiating off him, and now, in the quiet aftermath of the fight, guilt begins to settle in your chest. The adrenaline from the battle has worn off, and now you're left with the consequences of your reckless actions.
“Hey, Constantine… I—I’m sorry for not listening to you. I really am,” you say, your voice soft and heavy with regret.
He sighs, not looking at you, but his tone is stern. “I’m not going to lie and say I’m not mad at you, kid. You didn’t just ignore my warnings—you put yourself in danger. There are rules for a reason. What if you got seriously hurt and couldn’t cast a spell back to me? Even worse, what if you died or got possessed?”
His words hit you hard, and you wither under the weight of them. You know he’s right. All those rules and restrictions aren’t just him being overprotective or controlling, they’re because he cares. He’s seen the kind of darkness that can swallow people whole, and the thought of that happening to you terrifies him, even if he’ll never say it out loud.
By the time you reach the med bay, the guilt feels like it’s pressing down on you as much as the pain in your ribs. Constantine lowers you onto a cot, tucking you in with a gruff gentleness that only he could pull off. He sits down on the side of the bed, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it with a quick flick of his fingers, his eyes never leaving yours.
“What I’m trying to say, kid,” he starts, exhaling a cloud of smoke, “is that I care. I care about you, I care about what happens to you. I don’t want—” He pauses, his voice softening. “I don’t want to ever have to find your body one day. So please, from now on, let me know before you do something stupid like this.”
His words hang in the air, raw and unfiltered. You nod, trying to process it all, and then something clicks in your mind. Wait… did he just say let him know?
“Let you know? Does this mean—” Your eyes widen as realization hits you. “Does this mean I can go on solo missions?”
Constantine lets out a resigned sigh. “Yes, yes, you can start going on solo missions—”
“Hell yeah!” you exclaim, sitting up a little too quickly. Pain shoots through your ribs, but you can’t help the excitement bubbling inside you.
“—but, only the ones I sanction and authorize,” Constantine finishes, cutting through your excitement with a stern look. You deflate a little at his words, but it’s still a victory in your book.
Without thinking, you throw your arms around him, ignoring the sharp pain it causes in your ribs. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! I promise I won’t let you down!”
He chuckles, patting your back awkwardly before pulling away. “Yeah, yeah, I know you won’t. Now, lay back down and get some rest. You still have dark and brooding to deal with.” He gestures toward the direction of the meeting room, clearly dreading the inevitable confrontation with Batman. “And by extension, I do too,” he adds with a heavy sigh.
You groan, sinking back into the cot, the exhaustion finally catching up with you. “I don’t know why he even cares. If he did, he would’ve figured this out ages ago.”
Constantine glances at you, his expression softening for a moment. He takes a long drag of his cigarette before speaking. “He cares, kid. He just… doesn’t always show it the way you want him to. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel it.”
You scoff, though part of you knows he’s right. “Yeah, well, doesn’t feel like it.”
Constantine stands, taking one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it into a nearby ashtray. “Doesn’t matter how it feels right now. The Bat’s going to want answers, and if I know him, he’s going to want to have a very long talk with you. You’re not out of the woods yet.”
You wince at the thought of the upcoming conversation, knowing that Batman’s interrogation will be thorough and far less forgiving than Constantine’s.
“Great,” you mutter, closing your eyes and sinking deeper into the cot. “Just what I need.”
Constantine gives you a small, almost affectionate smile before turning to leave. “Get some rest, kid. You’ve earned it. I’ll deal with the big bad Bat for now.”
And with that, he walks out, leaving you alone in the med bay. As much as you’re dreading what’s to come, you can’t help but feel a sense of relief. Despite the pain and the mistakes you made, you know that Constantine’s got your back. And, maybe, just maybe, Batman does too, even if it’s buried under a mountain of brooding and silence.
For now, though, you let the exhaustion pull you under, trusting that everything else can wait until tomorrow.
-
As you rest, your body finally succumbing to the exhaustion, your breathing evens out and your mind drifts into sleep. The med bay is quiet, sterile, but the tension in the air lingers, waiting for the inevitable. Eventually, a dark, caped figure glides into the room silently, his form casting long shadows across the walls.
Batman—no, Bruce—stands over you, his sharp eyes tracing every bruise, every cut that mars your face. His jaw clenches as a million thoughts swirl in his head, none of them offering any comfort.
What the hell happened to you? Why are you and Constantine so close? How did you even know Constantine? How much had he missed—how little attention had he been paying—to not notice any of this?
Bruce sighs, a deep and frustrated sound. He removes his cowl, setting it on the side table with a weary hand. Without it, he seems less intimidating, less imposing. He stares down at you, seeing the cuts and bruises marking your skin, but what hits him harder is the way your face, in sleep, is still so achingly young. You're his daughter, and yet it feels like you're a stranger to him now.
How did you get so far away?
He knows the answer. The fault lies with him, with the choices he made, the excuses he repeated to himself—telling himself he was too busy, telling himself he would check in later. Later never came, though, and the space between you widened, until it wasn't just him you were drifting away from, but your brothers too.
Bruce noticed the way your brothers treated you, the harsh words, the cold shoulders. He saw the distance, but he justified it, telling himself it was sibling rivalry or something that would pass. He didn't step in. And now, as he looks at you lying there, bruised and battered from a fight he wasn’t even aware of, the reality sinks in: he has no excuse.
With a heavy sigh, Bruce reaches out, his rough but careful hand carding gently through your hair. The gesture is tender, hesitant, as if he's not sure whether he has the right to touch you like this anymore. But as his fingers comb through your hair, you stir in your sleep, a quiet murmur escaping your lips as you unconsciously lean into his touch. It's such a sweet, innocent moment, and for a brief second, Bruce allows himself to feel the warmth of it.
But the moment is fleeting.
He feels the presence before he sees it, the unmistakable smell of cigarette smoke filling the room. His jaw tightens as his hand stills. He doesn’t turn right away, but his voice cuts through the silence.
“Constantine,” Bruce says, his tone gruff even without the cowl to disguise it.
Constantine steps into the room more fully, leaning against the wall, a half-smoked cigarette between his lips. He regards Bruce with that same nonchalance he carries everywhere, though there's a flicker of something else in his eyes—something more cautious.
"Thought you’d still be brooding over in the corner," Constantine says, taking a drag of his cigarette. His eyes drift to you, lying peacefully on the cot. “Didn’t expect to see this version of you.”
Bruce doesn’t respond right away. He pulls his hand back from your hair, his gaze hardening. "What happened?" The question is direct, but underneath it, Constantine can hear the concern, the frustration Bruce doesn't voice aloud.
"She went off on her own," Constantine mutters, taking another drag before blowing out a cloud of smoke. "Went after a demon. Got roughed up pretty bad, but she handled it in the end. Strong kid. Stubborn too. Wonder where she gets that from, eh?"
Bruce's eyes narrow. "And you let her?"
"Let her?" Constantine laughs, a short, sharp sound. "Mate, I didn’t let her. She went behind my back, just like she’s gone behind yours for who knows how long. Difference is, I’m the one she actually came back to.”
That lands like a punch to Bruce's gut. He doesn’t react visibly, but Constantine can see the tension in his posture.
"I didn't know she was…" Bruce starts, then stops, shaking his head. The words feel inadequate. "I didn't know she was involved with this stuff, i didn't even know she was a meta. Or that she knew you."
"Yeah, well, she found her way to me," Constantine says with a shrug, stubbing out his cigarette on the wall. “And she's not a meta by the way, she's a vessel for some eldritch being"
A vague expression of surprise appears on Bruce's face.
"I don't blame you, mate. I was surprised to find her alive afterwards. Not just anyone survives that kind of transformation, she's strong.”
Bruce crosses his arms, his gaze flickering between you and Constantine. “I know she’s strong.”
“Do you?” Constantine raises an eyebrow, the challenge clear in his tone. “Because she’s been running herself ragged trying to prove it. To you. To herself. And, hell, maybe to me too, but at least I see it.”
There’s silence for a moment. Bruce clenches his jaw, turning to look at you again, sleeping soundly despite the tension in the room. He knew Constantine was right. You'd been pushing yourself, fighting to show that you didn’t need them—that you were strong enough on your own. And he had let you. He'd let you because he didn't even care to notice.
Constantine sighs, sensing the weight of the silence. “Look, I didn’t come here to throw stones. But you’ve got to get your shit together with her. She’s tough, but she’s still a kid, and she’s your kid. She needs you.”
Bruce doesn’t answer, but his silence speaks volumes. He watches you, the soft rise and fall of your chest, and feels the regret gnawing at him.
“I’ll handle it,” Bruce finally says, though the words feel hollow.
Constantine gives him a long look, then nods. “You better. Because if you don’t, she’ll be right back with me..”
With that, Constantine pushes off the wall, flicking away the last of his cigarette. “I’ll check in on her later. Try not to fuck this up, mate.” And with one last glance at you, Constantine leaves, the tension in the room ebbing with him.
Bruce remains, standing over you, his mind a whirlwind of regret, guilt, and the desire to fix what’s been broken for far too long. He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead—something he hasn’t done in what feels like years—before stepping back, pulling the chair beside your bed to sit vigil over you.
He’s still not sure how to bridge the gap, but for now, he stays. It’s a start.
Well, thats all folks! I really enjoyed writing this au, so thanks for the idea! Maybe ill even make a pt. 2 to this? Who knows? Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it.
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ellecdc · 3 months ago
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HEAR ME OUT
former fboy barty who is now madly in love with reader and reader is like his first actual serious girlfriend
ARE WE SEEING THE VISION
I'M SEEING THE VISION HERE YOU GO; also, it's a continuation of this post but can be read as a standalone
Barty Crouch Jr x fem!reader who doesn't do 'casual' [1k words]
CW: brief mention of past harassment, mention of past sexual encounter but nothing explicit and SFW
Barty said goodbye to Evan in way of putting his hand against his mouth to get him to stop talking and then shoving his face away from him as he started taking purposeful strides for you. 
He’d only opted to come to class today in hopes of seeing you, and he’d only deigned to hang around afterwards so that he could talk to you after you finished speaking with the Professor.
Barty had been struggling to get you out of his mind for over a week now ever since you approached him in the club asking him to pretend to be your boyfriend, which ended in a very enjoyable romp afterwards.
And he’d be lying if he wasn’t hoping for another tryst as he pulled the door open for you before you’d even had a chance to push it; a look of wary surprise crossing your face before it melted into a smile.
That smile made him feel funny. 
“Well hello, my darling girlfriend.” He teased as he fell into step with you. 
“Hello, Barty.” You chuckled as you gently nudged him with your elbow. “Alright?”
“Fantastic, thank you. I’ve been thinking about the fun we had the other night.” He said as he moved to stand in front of you, smiling in that way of his that he knew usually got him what he wanted.
You simply smirked knowingly and raised an eyebrow at him. “What? Fleeing from a bar without paying your tab?”
Barty scoffed and waved you off. “My dad owns that bar, it’s fine. No, I meant what happened afterwards.”
You hummed in acknowledgment as you scrutinised him. “You mean when I thanked you profusely-”
“-multiple times-” Barty amended, earning him a salacious grin from you.
“-multiple times, for saving me from that creep?”
“Precisely.” Barty agreed with a nod. 
“That was fun.” You admitted, to which Barty quickly agreed. “But I don't think so, Barty. Sorry.”
“Oh… oh! Okay…erm, may I ask why not?” He sputtered as he took two long strides in order to catch up with you as you continued walking across campus. 
“You may.” You relented simply, smirking when you saw Barty roll his eyes from your periphery. 
“Okay…why not?”
“I…listen, I had fun and I don’t regret it, but I don’t usually do…casual.” You admitted, looking embarrassed for all intents and purposes as you stared down at Barty’s shoes and chewed on your lower lip. 
“Casual.” Barty parroted, fighting the urge to relieve your lower lip from its torment and, perhaps disturbingly, afflict it to his own torment. 
“Right, I…I don’t usually do casual sex, that was uhm…that was a one time thing for me.” 
“Oh, so…so, you only have sex when you’re dating someone?” Barty concluded.
“Right.”
“Great. Go on a date with me.” 
You barked a laugh as you continued walking, only to turn and see that Barty wasn’t following nor was he laughing as he was really quite serious.
“Are you-…you’re not serious, are you?”
“Mmm, nope, I’m quite serious, actually.” He responded.
“Barty.” You huffed somewhat chidingly. “I’ve never once seen you speak to the same girl twice. Well, save Meadows, but I’m quite certain she likes girls, so.”
Barty simply shrugged at you, not seeing at all what the issue was here. “There’s a first time for everything, no? I’m standing here talking to you for a second time, am I not?” 
“I’m just…I’m looking for something serious, Barty.”
“I can be serious!” He argued rather petulantly. 
“I’m not going to ask you for something you might not be capable of giving me.” You sighed.
“Are you challenging me? Is this a challenge? Because I’ll have you know I’ve never once lost a bet.”
“I’m not challenging you, Barty.” You laughed affectionately at him. “Monogamy and commitment isn’t your thing, and that’s fine! I’m not judging you or blaming you at all; I just think we might want different things.”
Barty stepped forward so that he was standing but a few inches from you, forcing you to look up at him. “Well, what I want is you.”
“You want me right now.” You whispered back; some of the fight clearly leaving you as you searched between his eyes.
“I’ll prove it. Let me prove it to you.” He insisted, daring to push some of your hair falling from its restraint away from your eyes. 
You sighed somewhat sadly as your bottom lip threatened to jut out. “I’m not worth breaking your rules for, Barty.”
“I think I can decide that for myself, no?” He murmured back.
He had to admit this is the softest he’d ever been with anyone before, but it was also the softest he’d ever felt with anyone before.
He didn’t usually get caught up on people; not like this, not like you. 
But you awoke something inside of him that night when you darted out of the sea of bodies like he was the last life raft of a sinking ship, your eyes wild and desperate as you clung to him.
He was always down for a ruse, so when you’d asked him to pretend to be your boyfriend he was more than happy to cause a little chaos. But when he’d heard you were scared, harassed, bothered? Well, the deep, black, protective rage that had him nearly fusing your body to his was something completely foreign to him.
He wanted more of it.
He wanted you.
And if this is what you needed from him? Well, he’d be that for you. 
“Teach me? I’m a quick learner, rather clever too.” He asked as he tilted your head up by your chin and forced you to look at him. 
“I…I don’t want to be an experiment.”
“I don’t either.” He agreed. “I just want you to be mine.”
You searched his eyes for a few more moments before letting out a dramatic sigh. 
“Fine, but I will be teaching you and there will be a quiz at the end of this so do keep up.” You hollered at him over your shoulder, though your small smile gave away the fact that it was all for show.
“Don’t you worry, treasure; I perform very well on tests.”
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xo-cod · 1 year ago
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this wasn't supposed to be a poly thing but here we are lmfaoo, nsfw version <3 rushed/ooc/the usual. i'm not that happy w this, could've more nsfw but 🥴
cw: p in v, cockwarming, eating out, unprotected sex, a bit of everything 😭 18+/mdni!
sfw version
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POSSESSIVENESS!!!!
oh my god, they are all so possessive
if you've spent too long with one of them, the other immediately scenting you in their musk
"you smell much better now" he finally grumbles having finished removing the scent from the other man and he can finally take you in his arms
high libidos, i mean they're big burly men 🤭 it's both a blessing and a curse </3
price is a passionate lover. you've got him hooked on your taste and he damn well sure explore every nook and cranny you've to offer. he will learn your body like the back of his hand, knowing what parts usually respond to and what gets you turned on. how to touch you, how to caress you, this is all his forte
ghost is an intense lover, especially when he's been away from you. instantly marking you and devouring you the second he gets his hands on you. really hands on with you, his tactical gloves thrown behind his back and his mask rolled up over his nose before he's kissing you like a starved man
gaz is a doting lover, he's all about the small moments :") kissing you when the head of his cock rubs against your slit, holding your hand when his thrusts get deeper and longer, whispering the most prettiest words when you're whimpering against him :((
soap is a fun lover. sex isn't serious with him unless he's been away and couldn't have you. he likes all the sounds you make and he encourages you to make them, he loves seeing your pretty smile as he makes you feel good. wants to try different positions but heavily enjoys the ones that have you as close to him as possible
price and ghost are definitely the type to make it their personal mission to get you to moan louder when you've spent the night with another man, being forced to hear your pretty whimpers and losing it completely when they hear you cum
won't burst into the room but will bide his time until the night where he'll do everything and anything to get you a moaning mess
"does he fuck you like this? tell me princess, is he better than me?" you'll hear some taunts during the peak of your orgasms and depending on the mood, he might just even withhold your orgasm 😗
soap and ghost really like cockwarming afterwards, purely to feel close with you after a particularly hard day <3
something about feel you so close to his body, your warm cunt gently squeezing around him as he lays on your chest brings him the most joy <3
price and gaz hold you in their huge arms and whisper sweet words as you both nod off to sleep, his touch lingering against your skin as he drifts off
fivesomes when you're bored lmfaoo 😵‍💫🫣😮‍💨
price situates himself in the back, ghost in your cunt, soap in your mouth and gaz in your hand.
your body is sandwiched between the thick warm bodies of price and ghost, both of them kissing and pawing at your skin to feel more
price taking control over your hips, gently rolling against it so not to overwhelm you, "taking us so well pretty, eh?"
"look at 'er, such a good love" ghost chuckled softly, pressing down on the bulge he's created in your stomach causing both of you to groan.
soap's cock in your mouth, his hand caressing the bulge he's making in your neck as he eases himself more, "that's it, bonnie. such a good fuckin girl"
gaz cooing at how much of a good girl you are while you stroke him, his lips peppering soft kisses on your neck no doubt leaving behind marks in their wake, "so beautiful like this, sweetheart"
will 100% buy you an anklet with all their initials on it
will go absolutely feral over you when one of them needs you and another wants you
testosterone levels hitting the roof, a fight will break out if they're ansty enough. will not share, he needs you for himself ‼️‼️
they are obsessed with your cunt
there has been times when you've been incredibly overstimulated from pleasure and how much they've latched on to your clit, his face buried as deep as possible while he licks and sucks
soap and ghost could honestly spend hours lapping at your clit, spreading your walls to get in deeper. using their fingers to stimulate the bundle of nerves hidden inside, enjoying how responsive you are
you'll usually have to push their faces away, their eyes blown and their bottom half of their face covered with your slick
gaz loves to suck your nipples, his mouth latched on to your chest while his tongue rolls over the sensitive bud over and over. releasing with a pop and a string of saliva before he gives the same attention to the other, his hands pressing into your back to bring you closer <33
price loves marking you anywhere he can get his lips on. loves sucking your skin and the taste, pressing a tender kiss afterwards.
they love fidgeting with you!! :")
ghost would have you in his lap, his cock buried deep inside your cunt as he goes over his work. his hips occasionally rolling up a little to give you some friction while he works away, his hand snaking down to gently rub circles on your aching clit while he presses sweet kiss to your shoulder blade, soft promises that he'll be done in a half hour or so
price would have you on his lap, one hand in your panties while the other works on his paperwork. his fingers toying and teasing your clit, running down to press his middle finger inside up at the first knuckle before going back up to tap at your clit again. loves making your folds all puffy and sensitive :(
soap having you under his desk all cosied up as you suck him underneath, licking lazy strokes over the head of his cock. lapping up at his precum, gagging softly when you push your head down until your nose touched the soft tuft of hair at the base of his cock. his legs wrapped around your body, holding you steady cooing softly at how good you are <3
gaz touching and caressing your body while he has to finish a task price set up for him. absentmindedly stroking your your thighs and hips until they reach between your legs, his fingers gently stroking against your eager cunt. not enough to actually get you off but enough for the tiniest bit of pressure, lazily separating your walls and fingering you with his middle and ring finger as he works <3
they all 100% have breeding kinks and together?? 😵‍💫😵‍💫
"wanna put my baby in you, you'd look so fuckin beautiful" ghost panted, watching him cum drip out of your hole fucking it right back in. making sure not a drop is wasted
"one kid might not hurt, what do you say gorgeous, hm?" price's breath was shuttered as he leans on his forearms, his eyes sparkling with desire and passion. the king of breeding, he'll continue to thrust his cum into you until your stomach bulges a little from how stuffed you are
"so so beautiful" gaz hummed, hiking your legs higher on his shoulder while his hand gently pressed down against your stomach, your whimpers music to his ears as his balls tightened. sending him over the edge as he thrusted his cum deep inside your womb
"you'd look so fuckin beautiful pregnant with my kids, wouldn't you bonnie?" his groans are echoing with your moans, with every powerful drive of his hips you can feel your control slip further away. he's so feral, not giving you a chance to even speak before he holds you close and his cock filling you up with his seed. overfilled and you can feel it rush out, dripping down between your bodies
heaven forbid another recruit even hands you a compliment, their ears will have picked it up no matter where they are
and the tension levels in that room will have risen to the skies
silent death stares, stiff postures, the poor recruits looking around wondering why his superiors are suddenly giving him the meanest death glares known to mankind and why ghost looks like the grim reaper
you'll spend the evening with all four of them, not moving a single inch unless you absolutely have to
price and ghost get jealous when you have toys, why would you need them when you can use him??
soap and gaz like the toys to bring you orgasm after orgasm, watching you break apart in his arms from the pure pleasure
threesome with price and ghost is very intense. both men are the top dogs, trying to beat the other and competing with each other. it usually ends with several orgasms from uou before either one of them has cum
gaz and soap are devious, finding different ways to stimulate your body and new ways to pleasure you. gaz kissing you, his tongue working your mouth while soap's mouth has latched on to your wet cunt, nuzzling and lapping while he holds you down with his hands
soft sex!!! all of them crave it :") <33
they're not all rough and tumble all the time
price and gaz love having soft sex in the early morning, not only to get his day started right but the morning is so peaceful with the birds singing and the sun barely peeking over the horizon
soap and ghost are more night time enjoyers, the peace and quiet of the darkness and the silence that comes with it. he just wants to be fully immersed with you, not a single thing on his mind
"how's that feeling, beautiful?" price murmured out, brushing away the strands of your hair as he pushed inside you again. he can feel his shoulders slump against yours tiredly, you always manage to make him feel so safe his guard is almost always down when it comes to you. you look so beautiful underneath him, he can't help but stroke your skin pulling you in closer so that he's snuggling right on you <3
"feel so good around me lovie, so good f'me" ghost whispered in to your ear as he caged you between his huge arms, putting you in a mating press as he angles his cock in deeper to your sopping cunt. drawing soft mewls from your lips which he drinks up eagerly with his own lips. he lives for the soft moments, his arms wrapped snugly around your waist while his lips kiss yours, never wanting to leave the safe haven he's found between your arms <3
"squeezin me so tight, baby" soap's breath was hitched as he gently bottomed out, his lips finding yours as he presses tender kisses. his life can become so hectic and chaotic, he really does cherish every single second he can with you and he loves how close he can be to your body. and for him, it's not even about the sex. he just wants to bury himself as much as he can in you <3
"that's my girl" gaz nuzzled into your neck, his hips rolling lazily against yours while he cradles you close to his chest. a soft groan leaves his lips when he feels the pressure around his cock, his head still hazy from sleep and pleasure. bringing you closer as his face rests in the crook of your neck, just able to be kyle instead of a soldier <3
aftercare is a must for all of them, no matter how intense the sex was.
each of them have their preferred way but they all bundle you up close to them, holding you tightly to their chest as their heartbeat provides a steady rhythm in your ears
gentle tender kisses pressed on your forehead, your back gently stroked as their voices offer you water and a snack
depending on each of them, you'll either find yourself being cleaned very softly with a towel thoroughly before he holds you close as you settle to bed
or you're being carried in his arms for a shower, him mostly taking care of everything for you <33
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nottsangel · 5 months ago
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toxic theo headcannons? it’s a need😩💋
toxic bf!theodore nott hcs
pairing: toxic boyfriend!theodore nott x fem!reader
warnings: toxic and possessive behaviour, rough sex
moodboard // m.list // drabbles m.list // taglist
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toxic!theo is clever, cunning and manipulative. he’s so sly with it that you barely notice his toxic behaviour
the type to say “wear whatever you want bella, i can fight” and actually mean it
if he catches someone flirting with you, he acts unbothered in your presence but later beats the poor guy until he’s bleeding
he’d get down to his level, grab him by his collar, and look him straight in the eyes, warning him that if he sees him with you again, he’ll be in even more trouble
“i don’t want to see you near my girl ever again, you got that?”
arguments with him are intense, and he’s too stubborn to ever admit when he’s wrong
if you attempt to leave him, he becomes very manipulative, insisting that you can’t live without him— convincing you that you’re nothing without him
“amore, we both know you need me, hm? tell me, who’s gonna take care of you when i’m gone?”
will deliberately start arguments because the sex is always better afterwards
if you try to talk it out with him after that, he’ll start kissing your neck and sliding his hand up your thigh, ready for round two
“theo… please, i just wanna talk about it.” “hm. later.” “but-“ “i said, later.”
so much more rough during sex after a fight. will aggressively pull your hair, wrap his hand around your neck until you feel light-headed, and spank you until his hand leaves a red imprint on your skin
tends to be very cold after the sex, with little to no aftercare as he immediately reaches for a cigarette
has your location on his phone so he always knows where you are. you don’t even know about it though, as he installed a tracking app when you were showering
his demeanour can shift in an instant, leaving you confused and hurt
one moment he’s sweet and caring, and the other he’s cold and distant
but still, despite everything he puts you through, you can’t seem to leave him, because deep down you believe he’s right— you can’t live without him by your side
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🏷️ tags: @xolaylaxo @one-direction-harry-potter1 @kayleiggh @leelizzz @itzliyalupin @hvgwartss @bunnyweasley23 @watersquirtpewpewboomm @loveeharrington @demirunner @saturnmoonyy @nyctophicbtch @usuck @bigtiddywench @ecliqwze @le000xxgrd @dramaticals @thepotatopigeon @etolies-garden @rafesslxt @diaries-of-a-hopelessromantic @jllyunn @rafesgiirl @sluttychanel @blackthunder137 @rafesthroatbaby @eternalbuckley @qualitykinghologram @helendeath @i-like-pandas5 @oceandriveab
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cressidagrey · 12 days ago
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It's a Love Story - Chapter 8
Summary:
Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.
Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.
And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.
Warning:
Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible. Racism against Illyrians/Lesser Faes?
If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.
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Sky didn’t have much of a temper.
Even if she was frustrated or annoyed, she rarely got angry or lost her patience. 
It wasn't that she didn't have emotions. She did. She felt things deeply, passionately. However, she also believed that there was no point in wasting energy on getting angry. It didn't solve anything. It only made things worse. 
So Sky had learned a very, very long time ago…that there was no need to start screaming, because her stutter didn’t allow her that anyway…and that maybe…maybe it was easier for her to just let go off her anger about being unfairly treated. 
Getting angry wouldn’t help her. 
That day however…it burst out of her. Burst out of her like somebody had lanced an abscess. 
Her family could say whatever they wanted about her. But they were not going to say a single word about Azriel 
It was Winter Solstice.
Azriel and her had spent the last month or so enjoying winter season in Velaris…even once trying to ice skate on their lake, which only ended with him kissing her skinned knees, because she was definitely not a natural at it.
They had bought Winter Solstice gifts, and baked cookies…had decorated their house with pine garlands and velvet ribbons…
She had knitted them socks and they had made rabbit stews out of rabbits Azriel had hunted in the forest behind their house. (It was…she had never really seen him as a warrior, even when he wore these black leathers and the blue stone that glinted off him…but she could see him as a hunter, when he came home with a couple of rabbits, ready for dinner. It had also resulted in a new fur lined blanket for her, all ready on the couch. 
She had never outright asked…but he seemd to like it when she was cuddled beneath it, like it seemed to soothe some kind of instinct for him. Maybe the fact that it was the animal he had hunted?)   
Sky and Azriel had both made the decision to spend the days with their respective families and have their own Solstice celebrations the next day…that would pretty much sonsits out of a lazy day in bed and nothing else. 
It sounded amazing. Just what they wanted. 
And it had made sense to celebrate like that. She hadn’t wanted to be the one to keep him from his family after all, even if the thought of not spending Solstice with her mate had hurt more than she wanted to admit.
Azriel had been up ridiculous easily in the morning for a snowball fight that was apparently tradition…but not before he had spent a good half hour making her scream his name with his mouth between her thighs…
Afterwards, she had gotten dressed and left the shadows to amuse Hector for the day… and Sky had left to help her mother with dinner preparations.
A nice, quiet family dinner. Nothing more and nothing less.
That’s what it was supposed to be. They didn’t even get that far.
It all went to shit before dinner was even in the oven. 
From the moment she entered her parents house it was a barrage of barbed comments. About her appearance, her stutter, her lack of an boyfriend…her lack of a proper job. (Sellyn Drake was hers. Sellyn Drake was nothing they got to gossip about.) 
Sky had bitten her tongue. She had ignored the comments, tried to enjoy herself. But Claire never knew when enough was enough.
Her sister kept at it. Kept needling, jabbing at Sky until the little bubbles of anger popped to the surface and boiled into something…bigger.
“I…I met my m…mate,” Sky finally said flatly, after anther jab at her lack of a boyfriend. 
Take that Claire. Not just a fiance. A mate. 
Finally in just one thing Sky had been faster than her sister. 
A mate. That mystical rare mating bond had been a gift from the other for her and not for Claire. 
It caught Claire off guard. She stopped pacing, and turned to look at her sister, brow raised. The look said ‘Oh is that so?’ as if it was the kind of nonsense she had come to expect from her.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffed, clearly not believing a word Sky said. 
But Sky wasn’t going to let this go. “His n..name is Azriel,” Sky said with a smile. “We are ver…very hap…happy.” 
They were. They were so happy. So delightfully happy. (So delightfully happy that Sky had been wondering if maybe…maybe the should start trying. High Fae fertility was hit or miss anyway…why shouldn’t they simply start trying and see where it would take them. And if it took two decades, then it took two decades. If it only took a year or three…well, then they were lucky.)  
Claire narrowed her eyes. She was about to say something mean, Sky could see it in the way her lip curled up.
“He…He's a g…good male,” she said firmly, cutting Claire off before she got the chance to spew out anything else.
Claire laughed. It was a harsh, biting sound.
"A good male? Really, Sky?" she sneered. "You actually fell for that line?"
It wasn’t a line. It was the truth. 
Azriel was a good male. Patient and intense and loving. He had never raised a single finger against her.Azriel would never hurt her intentionally. 
 Claire just wanted to belittle Sky in front of their whole family.
"You must be even more naive than you seem if you believe that," she said, almost pityingly. "You really think he wants you? That he actually cares about you? Nobody could want you. I bet he just pities you."
It should have hurt her, she realised. It would have. Even just months ago, it would have hurt her. 
But right now…right now it didn’t really. 
She was supposed to believe that Azriel didn’t want her? The same male that had spent the better part of an hour on his knees in front of her that very morning, eating her out like a starved male? She was supposed that her mate, who’s arousal shot across the bond like an inferno any time she slipped off her clothes, didn’t want her? That the same male that stared at her like she was a goddess, that spent hours worshipping her body with his hands…that she had nearly made come simply by touching his wings a few days ago didn’t want her? 
Still…Claire's words had their effect. She felt a small stab of doubt in her heart, and she hated it. She hated that her sister could still hurt her like this, still make her feel like that insecure little girl who stuttered and couldn't get a single word right.
“He…He l…loves me and I…I love him,” Sky said calmly.
That was clear in every single one of his actions, in every single word. 
“Where did you even meet him?” Sky’s mother demanded. “And what kind of name is Azriel?”
“In…In a bar. Wh…When we went out for Cl..Claire’s Hen Do.  And I im…imagine it’s an Il…illyrian name.”
Everything ground to a halt.
“He’s Illyrian?!” Her mother demanded sharply. “What’s wrong with you, Skylar!”
Sky flinched at her tone. It was harsh, angry. It was the same tone she'd always used when Sky was younger and got anything wrong or stepped out of line.
"Yes, he's Il…Illlyrian," she said, meeting her mother's gaze levelly. "What's…what’s wrong with that?" she asked. 
She knew that her family wasn’t the…most open about Lesser Faes, but…but that hatred in her mother’s voice….she hadn’t expected that. 
“Everything,” Admon gave back with a snort. “You seriously let that barbarian fuck you? I am surprised you actually survived that and he didn’t just rip you apart.”
Every bit of colour leeched out of her face, except her ruddy red cheeks at these crude words. 
This was Admon. Once upon a time, she had wanted to marry him. To have his children. To spent her life with him. 
And…and this was what he told her to her face. 
“I can’t believe that you even let a creature like him touch you,” her mother breathed staring at her with utter disgust.
“He’...He’s not a cre…creature,” Sky bit out. Azriel was her mate. 
“Is it true by the way?” Her brother wondered. “That Illyrian’s have a cat’s prick?”
"Orin!" her mother exclaimed, aghast. "Don't be vulgar! I don't want to know."
Orin shrugged, a smirk dancing across his face. "What? I’m just curious. I am sure Skylar knows. She must please him somehow when she’s still alive to enjoy their…couplings.”
Sky felt ill. She didn't know what to say, what to say in defense of the man she loved. She couldn't get a word out.
“Did you…did you let it touch you?” Her father demanded finally, his voice icy.
It. Not even him. It. Like Azriel was a thing. 
Sky felt her heart drop to the floor, breaking into pieces.
"Yes," she admitted, her voice barely audible.
Her father's face grew stony, and he took a step closer to her.
“How dare you?” he hissed. "How could you let a monster touch you like that?"
"He's not a monster!" Sky protested, her voice rising. "He's…He’s k…kind and gen…gentle, and-"
“And I am sure, he keeps you stuffed with his cat prick to keep you satisfied,” Claire drawled.
And Sky was done.
Somehow that was the last straw. 
Somehow that made something inside her break, irreparable. 
It snipped away every thread that ever kept her close to the family that she had been born into. 
“At least I didn’t need to take my sister’s sl…sloppy s…seconds,” Sky said, her voice flat, meeting her gaze full on.“And yes, Azriel more than keeps me s…satisfied.”
Silence descended over the room, the only sound the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth. Sky felt the tension in the air grow heavier with each passing second.
"You…you didn’t just say that,” Claire said coldly. "You take that back, Sky.
Sky raised her chin defiantly. "No.” she said simply. “I'm…I’m not taking back the truth," she said, her voice ringing with unexpected steel.
"You do not speak to me like that," Claire hissed. "You have no right—"
Something inside Sky snapped. Years of frustration, years of feeling invisible and ignored, years of enduring Claire's taunts and jibes all bubbled to the surface.
"I…I have ev…every right," she shot back, her heart pounding in her chest. “Not so fun when you are on the re…receiving end, is it?”
“Either you end your…dalliance with…that creature, or you are no daughter of mine,” her father snapped.
He talked to her like she was nothing. Like she was worth less than dirt beneath his boots. 
And somehow that made it even easier. 
“You want me to turn away my mate…for what? This?” She asked him, cocking her head to the side. .
"For the sake of our family’s reputation," her father said. "You are an embarrassment to us all by associating with that…lesser fae barbarian.”
Barbarian. Lesser Fae. Thing. Creature. Monster.
All of that said about the male she loved. About her mate. 
“He’s Illyrian,” Sky said, her voice icy. 
“Oh come off it,” “Orin snapped. “He’s lesser fae. The only thing they are good for is being fodder for the armies during war times. Other than that, they are worthless.”
Fodder. 
“We have Lesser Fae ancestry ourself,” Sky responded icily. “Our great grandmother was a River Nymph.”
"That was a long time ago," her father interrupted sharply. "It was one ancestor generations ago. And besides, her blood was not that strong to begin with."
Sky thought back to the eyes that looked back from her mirror each day. Blue and beautiful. The one trace of her that got passed down to her.
"Maybe it was her blood that made you think that opening your legs for that creature was in any way appropriate," her mother hissed. 
And suddenly it was so easy. 
“Azriel is my mate,” she hissed. “I will al…always chose him over you. You can spew what..whatever insult you want about him or his pe…peoople. He’s still a bet…better male than any of you could ever hope to be, has treated me better than any of you. I’ll gladly no longer be your daughter.”
She felt the sting of tears running down her cheeks, but she didn't try to wipe them away. She just stared back at her family, daring them to say more. There was a short moment of silence, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.
She should have expected it. Her mother had always been quick to slap her if she did anything anything that she didn’t like.
Just this time…her hand didn’t make contact.
Sky stared at the tendril of shadows that jerked her mother’s hand back, having suddenly appeared. 
*You. Will. Not. Lay. A. Finger. On. Her,* the shadows hissed menacingly.
Sky stared at the shadows, her eyes widening in shock. They were angry. No. Furious. Utterly and completely furious. Her mother seemed equally taken aback, her hand still outstretched in the air where the shadows had stopped her.
Orin looked like he was about to piss himself, and her father…her father stared at the shadows, his face ashen.
“Come here,” Sky said quietly.
The shadows left her mother to come swarming to her, brushing over her cheek in greeting before wrapping themselves around her neck in a clearly possessive move.
Sky felt the familiar warmth of the shadows sink into her, a small bit of comfort in this awful situation. She turned to her family, her jaw set.
"I’m…I’m never coming back," she said, her voice quiet but resolute. And with that, she turned and walked away, She had only taken a handful of steps when she stopped and turned back, one last thing needing to be said, before she closed the door on this chapter of her life forever.
"I never want to see any of you again," she said, her voice shaking only slightly. "And when we have children, don’t you dare come and ask to have anything to do with them. You don’t deserve to even breath the same air as my mate."
With that, she turned and walked away, her head held high. 
***
Whatever went on between sky and her family…it wasn’t good. He could feel that in the bond slumbering underneath his breast bone.
He rubbed it absentmindly, staring in the flickering flame of the Birchin.
He had won that Snowball fight. Once more. One more victory to add to it.  Not that he particularly cared right now.
*Is she alright?* he asked the shadows.
The shadows were…quiet. And that spoke volumes. Something wasn't right. Azriel's heart pounded against his chest, his instincts urging him to act. He had to make sure Sky was alright. He couldn't stand to think about her being in any sort of trouble.
*Physicallly unharmed,* the shadows promised. *Her family is horrible,* they told him distastefully. 
Azriel's heart clenched at the shadow’s words. While it was a small relief that Sky wasn't physically hurt…her family being horrible made him want to grimace. 
“Alright, I had it!” Cassian snapped at that moment. “What the fuck is going on with you two?”
Azriel turned to his brother, seeing Cassian watch Rhys and himself with an expression of…something. Exasperation maybe.
"What do you mean?" Azriel asked, his voice even, feigning ignorance. He was really not in the mood to get into that either. But apparently he wasn’t going to get that small bit of mercy. 
"Don’t play dumb with me, brother," Cassian said, rolling his eyes. "You are both moody and more distant than usual. What the heck happened?"
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Azriel said flatly. Cassian rolled his eyes.
“Rhys?” Cassian demanded with a sigh. 
“You want to explain or shall I?” Rhys addressed him and Azriel just looked at him flatly.
“You gave the orders, High Lord.”
If Azriel had been in a better mood, he would have smirked. But right now, he just wanted this whole conversation to be over so he could check on Sky. The thought of her made his chest ache. He longed to see her, to hold her, to make sure she's alright. But he knew that Cassian and Rhys wouldn’t let him go without an explanation.
“Azriel and I…had a disagreement about Elain.” Azriel just stared at Rhys blankly. Seriously, that was the best Rhys could come up with? That’s what he wanted to go with?!
"A disagreement?" Cassian asked, brows raised. "What kind of disagreement? A 'we came to an agreement' kind of disagreement, or a 'we punched each other in the face' disagreement?"
“A ‘Rhys sticks his nose into things that are none of his business’ disagreement,” Azriel gave back drily.
“Excuse me, you were going to kiss ELain while her mate was under the same roof two years ago. Did you ever even consider the political ramifications of that?” Rhys snapped. “For gods sake, Azriel!”
Azriel's jaw clenched at Rhys's words, his temper flaring even as he tried to maintain a neutral expression. "You think I didn't consider the consequences? Of course, I did," he hissed, his voice dangerously low. "But feelings aren't logical, Rhys. We don't choose who we fall for, and it's not as simple as calculating political ramifications."
“I told Azriel to keep away from Elain. She fell for Lucien. He’s still moping about it and giving me the fault,” Rhys said flatly. “Out of pure interest, how much longer do you want to keep up with that, Az?”
Azriel couldn’t help the laugh that burst out od his mouth at that.
“You didn’t just fucking tell me to keep away from her. You told me and I quote ‘If you need to fuck somebody go to a pleasure hall and pay for it’,” Azriel repeated viciously.
"And I stand by that," Rhys snapped. "The last thing we need is for you to pine over someone who has made it clear where she stands. Elain has her mate, and she doesn't return your feelings. She’s married for gods’ sake!”
“Whoa!” Cassian cut them off. “What the fuck, Rhys?!”
"What?" Rhys demanded, glaring at Cassian.
Cassian gave him an incredulous look. "You told Azriel to go to a pleasure hall? Seriously?"
"I was trying to be helpful," Rhys said, his jaw clenching.
"Helpful?" Cassian asked incrediously. "Helpful would have been to be a little more understanding towards your brother's feelings. He does have them, you know,” Cassian said sarcastically. 
"I know that," Rhys snapped. "But he needs to move on. It's not healthy to keep pining after someone who doesn't return his feelings."
“Where was this opinion for the 500 years of me pining after Mor?” Azriel snapped. 
Rhys's expression darkened. "Don't do that, Azriel. Don't bring Mor into this. She's not relevant to this discussion."
”Not relevant?” Azriel gave back with a laugh. “I think she’s very relevant. You don’t trust me to act like an adult about my feelings. You ordered me to behave like I am some kind of rabid dog. More than once, more than twice. Constantly. Like I would ever do anything to put Mor and Emerie’s relationship into jeopardy. Don’t worry, High Lord. I’ll behave. I’ll leave Mor and Elain alone. .”
Rhys ran a hand through his hair, his frustration clear. "This is not about Mor, Azriel. This is about keeping the peace within our Inner Circle. Elain has her own life and her own happiness to think about. Interfering could only bring pain, not just for you, but for everyone involved. That’s why I ordered you to keep your distance. Not because I don’t trust your feelings or your actions, but because sometimes even the best intentions can have unintended consequences."
Azriel’s eyes darkened, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. "Don't give me any of your high and mighty bullshit, Rhysand. You don’t think I am good enough for Mor, and you certainly don't think I am good enough for Elain. But don’t worry, I'll keep my distance, as ordered. I wouldn't want to risk upsetting your perfect little court or ruining your plans for peace. Just tell me who else is off limits, so I know who else I'm not good enough for. Maybe Gwyn? Because remember, ‘don’t you dare to pressure her’?"
Rhys sighed, his gaze softening slightly. "Azriel, it's not about who you're 'good enough' for and who you aren't. It's about respecting people's choices and boundaries. Elain has made her choice in Lucien, and I just want to protect her and the peace we've worked so hard to maintain. And no, nobody else is off limits. You're free to…'seek your entertainment' as you please."
His entertainment. 
Right. 
Azriel snorted, the sound full of derision. “It warms my heart that you give me that permission,” Azriel said, his voice dripping with disdain.
Rhys rolled his eyes, clearly irritated by Azriel's reaction. "I'm not trying to 'give you permission,' Azriel," he said firmly. "I'm just trying to make sure you understand why I'm asking you to behave. I care about you and our inner circle. You're my brother, but I also care about Elain and her happiness. I don't want to see anyone get hurt."
“Have I done anything, anything at all that put her happiness in jeopardy?” Azriel asked, his voices harsh. “I kept away as you ordered. I fucking saved Lucien’s life, so she could be happy.”
"You haven't done anything wrong," Rhys acknowledged, his tone softening. "You've been a better friend to Elain than anyone could have asked. You saved Luicen because you are a good person, not just for Elain's sake. But I still think it’s best if you keep your distance. Not just for her, but for yourself too. Dwelling on feelings that can’t be returned will only bring you pain."
“For cauldron’s sake, Rhys,” Cassian said with a sigh.
Rhys turned his attention to him, the exasperation clear in his eyes. "What, Cassian?" he asked, his tone weary.
Cassian rubbed a hand over his jaw, shaking his head. "You’re so hell bent on keeping the peace you forget that the people in your court have feelings too," he said. "Azriel isn’t some emotionless soldier doing your bidding. He has feelings and desires, just like everyone else. And sometimes it’s not as simple as just moving on."
"I know that," Rhys said, running a hand through his hair. "But sometimes we have to put our own feelings aside for the greater good. As a High Lord, I have to think about the impact my actions could have on others. I'm not trying to shut down Azriel's feelings. I'm just trying to protect him from potential pain.”
“Yeah you did a shitty job at that,” Cassian said drily. “You could have told Mor hundred of years ago to have a conversation with him. You didn’t. But Azriel is supposed to tread carefully not to make her or Emerie uncomfortable. Azriel is supposed to behave?”
Rhys's eyes flashed in anger. "I know I've made mistakes, Cassian. I should have handled things differently with Mor and Azriel. But I can't change the past. All I can do is try to make the best decisions for everyone involved right now."
“You don’t even fucking realise how much of a self important hypocritical asshole you are, do you?” Azriel asked flatly. “It’s okay for you to pursue an engaged female that’s engaged to another High Lord, damn the consequences. But the rest of us…we are told to behave.”
Rhys bristled at Azriel’s words, his own temper threatening to flare. "That's different, Azriel," he said, his voice sharp. "That’s different and you know it. You would understand if you had a…” he hesitated.
"If I had a what?" Azriel prompted sharply.
Rhys let out a frustrated sigh, his fingers clenching around his mug. "A mate."
“Rhys,” Cassian said carefully.
"What?" Rhys snapped, his temper still simmering just below the surface. “He doesn’t have a mate, he doesn’t fucking understand it.”
Aaaaaand…. Azriel was done.
So fucking done. 
“Where are you going?” Rhys demanded as he stood up.
“Home,” Azriel said flatly. “You have my gifts, hand them out. Wish Feyre a Happy Birthday, will you? I’ll be back to do your bidding in about 3 days, High Lord.” 
“I highly doubt that your mother will enjoy your impromptu appearance at Rosehall,” Rhys said. Azriel’s hand twitched towards Truthteller. “Let’s just…”
“Rhysand!” Cassian snapped.
“What?” Rhys asked. 
“I have talked to my mother once since the Sealing of Velaris was lifted,” Azriel said tightly. “One conversation where she told me that she found a new family and that I should keep away from her. So no, Rhys. I am not going to Rosehall.”
Rhys looked utterly shell-shocked by Azriel’s revelation. "Azriel, I..." he started, but Azriel simply shook his head.
"Don't," he said. "Just don't." He didn’t wnat to talk about it. He never wanted to talk about that. His mother could do whatever she wanted. he would leave her alone, just as requested. But he was not going to talk about it. 
“Then I am coming with you. You are not spending Winter Solstice alone brooding at the House of Wind,” Cassian said quickly, standing. 
“I am not going to the House of Wind either.” Azriel answered flatly. “I am going home to my house and I won’t be alone either.”
"What do you mean you won't be alone?" Rhys asked sharply.
Azriel just snorted, “My mate will be there,” he said simply. “She’s better company than any of you.”
“Your...your mate?” Rhys repeated, his eyes widening.
Cassian gaped at Azriel. "Your mate? Why didn’t you tell us? Who is she?"
“Why should I tell you? ” Azriel gave back his voice icy. “I may trust you with this court, Rhysand, but I do not trust you with anything I love. Not anymore.”
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propertyofwicked · 5 months ago
Text
DIAL DRUNK - LN
summary - lando had always been her rock, her best friend whose laughter brightened her darkest days. but when she drifted away after starting a new relationship, lando was left confused and heartbroken, eventually discovering the painful truth of her struggles and the depths of his unwavering loyalty.
warnings - mention of toxic + somewhat abusive boyfriend (not lando), fighting, alcohol - happy ending (cos im not mean)
please stay safe and dont read this if any of these warnings will effect you! i will be back with a new post soon! look after yourselves <3
✧ my inbox is open ✧
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lando norris had always been the light in her life, the best friend who made everything better with his infectious laughter and unwavering support. their bond was unbreakable, or so he thought. but when she started dating her new boyfriend, everything changed. she stopped answering his calls, missed their regular meet-ups, and slowly drifted away. everyone was surprised when she stopped showing up to races, or when she no longer appeared on lando’s instagram - both in pictures and the comments.
lando was confused and hurt, but he respected her decision, believing she was simply busy with her new relationship. and even if he only heard from her when she sent a text to congratulate him on a race result, he was just happy she was still supporting him from wherever she was.
the first time she hadn’t attended one of his races, he had texted her afterward, "missed you this weekend, hope everything's okay." her reply came hours later: "sorry, got caught up with something. next time for sure." but there was no next time. race after race, her absence was palpable.
the missed calls were harder to ignore. at first, she would call back with an excuse. "sorry, my phone was on silent," or "i was out with friends, lost track of time." but soon, she stopped calling back altogether. lando's messages grew more worried, but he tried to keep them light. "everything alright? feels like we haven't talked in ages." the responses were always brief, vague, and unsatisfying. "yeah, just busy. talk soon."
then came the day he saw a picture of her and her boyfriend on social media. they looked happy, but something about her smile seemed off. forced. he left a comment, something friendly and supportive, but she didn't reply. she didn't even like the comment. lando felt a knot in his stomach. something was wrong, but he didn't know what, and she wasn't letting him in.
the isolation gnawed at him. he missed their late-night conversations, the way they would laugh until their sides hurt. he missed her being the first person he called with good news, and the one who would cheer him up when things didn't go as planned. it was like a piece of his life had gone missing, and he had no idea how to get it back.
one night, after a particularly tough race, lando found himself dialling her number, despite knowing she probably wouldn't answer. the phone rang and rang, and just as he was about to hang up, she picked up. her voice was a whisper.
"lando, i can't talk right now."
"what's going on?" he asked, his voice breaking. "why are you shutting me out?"
there was a long pause. he could hear her breathing, could almost feel the weight of whatever she was struggling with.
"it's... complicated," she finally said. "i'm sorry."
"complicated how?" he pressed.
"i can't," she whispered. "i'm sorry." and then she hung up.
lando stared at his phone, feeling more lost and helpless than ever. what had happened to her? why was she pushing him away? he couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong, but without her willing to talk, he had no way to help her.
the texts and calls grew less frequent. she stopped liking his posts, stopped commenting on his photos. it was like she had disappeared from his life entirely. the only sign he had that she was still out there were the occasional texts after a race, short messages of congratulations that felt hollow and distant.
each time his phone buzzed with one of those messages, it was a bittersweet moment. he was glad she still cared enough to reach out, but the emptiness of her words was a constant reminder of how far apart they had drifted. he missed her more than he could put into words, and the pain of her absence was a constant ache in his chest.
he truly didn’t expect to see her that night, especially not stood at the bar of a busy club that he and max had gone to, and not stood alone.
“y/n hey!” he called out, approaching her quickly and taking her in a quick embrace as he tried desperately to ignore the way she flinches and stiffened her posture.
“hi!” she replied, smiling at him nonetheless.
“how have you been? i feel like i haven’t seen you in a while.”
“i’m ok - how are you? still reeling from your first win?” she replied again, her posture softening as the bar tender handed her a glass of white wine. again, lando tried to ignore how different this was - he’d never seen her drink anything other than a malibu coke when they went out.
“i guess you could say that,” he responded happily, though not without noticing how different she looked - the was smaller, and her natural smile was gone, replaced with this horrid fake grin he had only seen on a handful of occasions, “who are you here with?”
“oh! i came with mich-”
“michael. and you are..?”
the voice had interrupted her, and her shoulders peaked up in anxiety once more as her boyfriend stood behind her, his frame towering hers slightly. he had his hand stuck out, in attempt to greet lando as if he had no idea who he was. he did. in fact, lando was a sore spot in his and y/n’s relationship.
“lando,” he replied, though neglecting to shake his hand, “i’ll leave you to it. come say hi before you leave,” he added, before turning swiftly on his heel to re-join max and a few others of their friends who had joined.
and as his drinks kept flowing, so did his thoughts. lando’s eyes were drawn to the table she sat on, looking out of place surrounded by michael and his friends. this wasn’t the y/n he knew, but he feared this was the new her, the her who was no longer his friend, no longer the girl that would spend hours with him doing everything and nothing at the same time.
lando wasn’t quite sure how drunk he was, not until he was stumbling to and from the bathroom, his vision clouded but not enough to distract him from the fact that y/n and michael had left their booth, and yet he wasn’t surprised that she hadn’t come to say goodbye. he himself thought it best to call it a night and head back to the comfort of his flat.
but then he saw them. she was arguing with her boyfriend, tears streaming down her face as michael was yelling, his grip on her arm tight and aggressive.
"you've had a face like a slapped arse all night," he snarled, his voice low but seething with anger. "you refuse to enjoy yourself unless it's your idea. you're so selfish."
"i'm not," she pleaded, her voice breaking. "i just... i don't feel comfortable here."
"oh, really? you never feel comfortable anywhere unless you're in control," michael spat, shaking her slightly. "you ruin everything."
"that's not true," she sobbed, trying to pull away. "please, michael, just let me go."
"no, we're going to sort this out right now," he growled, his grip tightening.
lando's heart pounded with a mixture of rage and concern, quickly finding himself pushing the door to the club open, barely allowing the cold night air to engulf him before he was striding over to the couple.
"hey, let her go!" lando demanded, stepping between them.
"this is none of your business," michael sneered, not loosening his grip.
"it is when you're hurting her," lando shot back, his voice steady but eyes blazing with anger. he could see the fear in her eyes, and it broke his heart.
"lando, please," she whispered, her voice trembling. "just go."
"i'm not leaving you with him," lando said firmly. "not like this."
“leave it, lando. i’m fine, i promise,” she continued shakily.
“oh yeah - defend him. as per fucking usual y/n,” michael yelled once more, letting go of his grip on her arm to push her back, the two men watching as she stumbled, almost losing her footing. lando stepped quickly, grabbing her waist softly, but enough to steady her once more.
“you ok?” he whispered to her, waiting for her to nod quickly at him then spinning around to face her boyfriend once more. before he could open his mouth to speak, michael’s fist was swiftly approaching lando’s face, to which he only missed slightly - only briefly making contact with his cheek as lando dodged the hit.
“right. so that’s how we’re playing this? cool,” lando announced, no longer trying to keep his calmness at the forefront of his mind as he raised his own fist, landing a punch square to the man’s face, driven by a protective instinct, months of pent-up frustration, and, quite potentially, the alcohol streaming through him. someone called the police, and before lando knew it, he was being pulled away, handcuffed and led to a police car.
“sir - your emergency contact is still not answering our calls - is there anyone else you’d like us to call?”
lando's heart sank, feeling like he had truly lost her.
“who did michael call as his emergency contact?” lando asked the officer, ignoring his previous question.
“we can’t disclose that information,” the officer responded with a sigh, but looked around the room quickly before adding a hushed, “it wasn’t her. if that helps.”
lando nodded at him quickly, trying to think of anyone who could come and pick him up from the station.
“try my friend max - his number should be in my phone somewhere,” lando told him to which the officer turned to go and retrieve his phone from evidence having not needed it before as he remembered y/n’s number like it was his own name. as the officer handed him his phone, he hesitated.
“listen,” he began softly, “someone who won’t even pick up the phone... are they really worth a potential assault charge?”
lando felt a surge of anger mixed with a deep sadness. “yes, she is. or at least, the version of her that i knew was worth it,” he said firmly. “she’s been through a lot. it’s not her fault.”
any rational person would not be defending someone who had ghosted them for months on end. he was overwhelmed, sad, angry - but rational? he was far from it right now.
the officer nodded, seeing the determination in lando’s eyes. “alright, i hope things work out for you both.”
“mr norris? your ride is here,” a new officer announced an hour later, handing lando a bag of his personal belongings before sending him through the door. stood face to face with max in a police station was not his idea of a nice night out.
“come on, mate. let’s get you home,” max said, smiling sadly at him as he led them to his car, “so, when’s the court date?”
“there isn’t one, luckily,” lando told him, buckling himself in and leaning into the seat in exhaustion, “injuries weren’t severe enough and he didn’t want to press charges.”
“lucky, indeed,” max hummed, “can i ask why?”
“you can ask. do i have to answer?”
“no, i guess not.”
“good.”
the car ride was silent from then on until they arrived at lando’s building, bidding each other goodbye quickly, before parting ways. lando swore the elevator was slower at 3am as he returned to his apartment, exhausted and disheartened.
as he approached his door, he saw her sitting on the door matt, her makeup ruined by tears. she looked up, eyes filled with sorrow and regret.
"lando," she choked out, standing up. lando didn't say anything at first, shocked that she was really here. he just pulled her into a tight hug, holding her as she sobbed against his chest.
"it's okay," he whispered. "i'm just glad you're here now."
they stood there for a long time, wrapped in each other's arms. finally, she pulled back, looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes.
"i'm so sorry,” she started again, pushing through her tears, “does it hurt?” she asked him, her fingers running softly over the slight bruising that dusted his cheeks.
“oh this? this is nothing - you should see the other guy,” he joked, trying to ignore his own pain, desperate to see her smile.
“i don’t think i want to see the other guy ever again,” she replied remorsefully.
“why did you do it, y/n? why did you disappear? why did you change?”
“i-i didn’t mean to. i didn’t want to lando, really. i didn’t,” she defended, “but he would just get so jealous, so angry, any time i spoke to you, or about you. he would say things. about me. about you. things that hurt. and i just kept thinking that maybe it would get better. maybe it would stop.”
“but it didn’t,” lando added for her, trailing off slightly. she didn’t respond verbally, rather, she merely nodded at him.
“oh y/n,” he sympathised, “you should’ve said, i could’ve done something. anything.”
“i just- i thought he liked me y’know. i thought maybe after a while he’d come around. and then he would guilt me into missing your races, or delete your messages from my phone. i never meant to ignore you lan, i promise,” she sighed, tears still cascading down her face, “can you ever forgive me?"
"there's nothing to forgive," lando said softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face, "you were in a tough situation. i'm just sorry i couldn't help you. god knows i would do anything to help you, angel."
she nodded, tears still falling, but there was a small, hopeful smile on her lips. "thank you, lando. for everything."
“come on, you want a cuppa?”
“always.”
“there she is,” he smiled at her widely, “there’s the y/n i know.”
the two shuffled inside, and lando made her a cup of tea just like old times. they talked for hours, about everything and nothing until any awkwardness from their separation dissipated into the night, until the sun began to rise. the start of a new day.
"i missed you," she whispered, her head resting on his shoulder as they sat together on the sofa, their skin illuminated by the orange tinge of sun peaking through the large windows.
"i missed you too," lando replied, gently kissing the top of her head. "and i'm never letting anything come between us again."
“tell me about miami,” she asked after a few moments of silence.
“ive already told you 3 times tonight.”
“i know, but i want to hear it again,” she whined, “i’ll never forgive myself for not being there.”
she smiled as he began to talk again, feeling safe and loved for the first time in a long while. they stayed like that, wrapped in each other's presence, knowing that whatever came next, they would face it together.
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mxstellatayte · 6 months ago
Note
Thoughts on if the drivers would use toys ( and what kind) on themselves and their partners?
ok i could only come up with a mtl for this one so here we goooooooo!
nsfw under the cut <3 minors please do not interact!
🧡lando norris
oh my god this man is SUCH A WHOREEE. he's actually the first person to bring it up in your relationship, and he doesn't so much bring it up as it brings itself up. the two of you and some other drivers and their partners are out after monaco, and something seems off about him, but you don't realize exactly what it is until you're grinding your ass on him on the dance floor and he is very, very hard. when you ask what's going on, he can barely say it without moaning because every move of your hips against his, making his own move in turn, nudges the plug he'd put in before leaving just barely against his prostate. safe to say that later that night, lando was a whining mess, gripping the sheets and head thrown back while you fold him in half with the strap he'd bought a few weeks prior in hopes of this exact situation happening buried in his ass. (got a little carried away there OOPSIES)
🩶george russell
george is actually a bit of a wild card on this list. his preference for toys leans a bit more towards the pain and restraint side of them, but he doesn't mind the occasional plug or vibrator. his own kinks make their appearance when you run up to him after a good race, kiss him, and press your hands to his chest so he can set his hands on your hips the way he likes to. what you aren't expecting, though, is for the outside of your left hand to brush something hard and plastic and for george to *whimper* into the kiss. that slut had worn nipple clamps during the race. his personal favorite combination of toys is having his hands cuffed to the headboard, completely unable to fight you off as you have your merry way with him. (as long as he gets a pat on the head and a shoulder rub with his favorite body lotion and cuddles afterwards ofc <3)
🧡oscar piastri
oscar is the flip of a coin. he's more than happy to quickly tie your wrists together with his tie if you're being a brat at an event or take his time lacing together a beautiful, intricate shibari harness to keep you in place while he uses your mouth to get himself off. when he takes the time for shibari, he'll take a lot of photos of you, maybe even a few videos to use later when he's halfway across the globe. as for toys on himself, he mainly only goes for a simple fleshlight (or lando). surprisingly, one thing he enjoys is laying back blindfolded and letting you have your way with him, as long as you aren't too mean.
🩶lewis hamilton
lewis has a very "if you're down, i'm down" attitude about most things when it comes to sex. as long as the two of you are comfortable and enjoying it, he's game on for a lot of stuff! his hard nos when it comes to toys on himself and his partner are anything that could potentially put one of you in danger or anything even vaguely involving animals. the first time you two really start exploring the world of sex toys of all sorts, he's constantly checking in with you, making sure you're feeling good, and if you tap out at any point, the aftercare is amazing bc he feels bad </3
🩵logan sargeant
oh this man LOVES fucking and getting fucked, and if there's toys involved, he's even happier. i can imagine him sending you a new toy when a big event happens that he can't be there for, and, to make up for it, he buys it for you so that you can fuck over the phone that night. he absolutely loves watching you fuck yourself with anything- your fingers, a toy, even using him to get yourself off is hot as hell to him. i also can't get the thought of him tied up in shibari with a ball gag in his mouth as you tease the fuck out of him, fucking his ass with a dildo that might be bordering on too big and jerking him off slowly at the same time (bonus points if it's in front of a mirror so he can see what a mess of himself he's making 🫣)
💙daniel ricciardo
the first time you bring up the idea of toys with danny, youre both high on the beach outside cancun over winter break, talking about all the random things two high adults talk about, and the topic of him eating you out feels. you passingly mention how much you love it when he moans while he's attached to your clit, and the idea of getting you a vibrator sparks in his mind. when you're in bed that night, the high long gone, he asks you just that, and you're so close to sleep that, when you wake up the next morning, you aren't sure if you remember what happened properly the previous night. you did, in fact, remember correctly, and when you get back to australia, there's a package laying on your bed. "happy late christmas baby xx -danny" inside is a baby pink suction vibrator that you cum with three times, saving a voice memo and texting it to him after you're done catching your breath.
💛charles leclerc
this goes without saying, but charles is more than happy to spend hours between your legs if he could. he's such a pleasure dom that sometimes you have to pull him away from your clit by his hair, and fuck if that sight alone doesn't prep you for another hour of his tongue ravishing you, you don't know what will. his cheeks, lips, chin, even the tip of his nose are shiny with a mix of your cum and his saliva, his pupils are wide and his mouth hangs open, breath heavy and fanning against you so perfectly. when you being up the idea of using toys, he's over the moon. when he finds out the toys you had in mind are ones you can wear to ferrari events under your dress, the remote hiding perfectly in the pocket of his pants? shit, he's on neptune.
🩵alex albon
what is it with the williams drivers being sub leaning? alex is similar to lewis in having the "if you're down, i'm down" attitude, and he's just as focused on his partner's pleasure as he is his own. he's the first to bring it up in the relationship, asking (very very shyly) if you'd maybe possibly under no pressure whatsoever be willing to try pegging him, and when his eyes light up when you agree, you have a feeling toys are going to start being a semi-regular addition to your sex life. on the occasion that neither of you have any (or you simply don't have the time or effort), alex is more than willing to have you ride him or fuck you himself, because i do think that, if teased enough, alex will top purely out of spite.
💙yuki tsunkda
yuki's idea of toys is much more unconventional. it could be your pillow when the two of you are fucking over the phone, the armrest of the couch in his driver's room, or your favorite dildo or vibrator. he's honestly kinda cool with most stuff, as long as it makes you feel good and is safe. as for himself, his favorite is a cock ring around him while you ride him, so that way you're both getting the best of it while he can still hold on to your tits :D he also tied your wrists together one time with a ribbon from the gift he got you for your two year anniversary and he still keeps the ribbon in his nightstand to remind him of you on nights when he's especially lonely.
❤️max verstappen
really, really prefers to fuck you himself in whatever way he can. whether he's fucking you into the mattress with his dick or sending you to heaven with his tongue and fingers or making you ride his thigh because you were being a little brat, he just loves the feeling of your skin on his. if you're being especially bratty, though, he will not hesitate to make you fuck yourself but of course you won't get to cum... why would he let you do that when you've been a brat? no, it's nearing overstimulation and tears running down your face begging for him to let you cum from the toy before he even considers giving you the release of fucking you himself.
🩷pierre gasly
pierre is a fluffy little fluff boy. just. the actual sweetest in bed. he prefers to be able to feel you himself rather than adding a toy to the mix, but if you're just really, really turned on while you're not around and feel like messing with him you'll send him a video of you fucking yourself with your favorite toy and it gets him so riled up he has to stop whatever he's doing and run to the motorhome so he can deal with his boner lol
💛carlos sainz
carlos is a very hands-on guy. he doesn't really go for dedicated toys per se, leaning more towards shoving your panties in your mouth or tying your wrists together with his tie. sometimes he doesn't even need that, though- sometimes his hand is more than enough to cover your mouth or hold your wrists together if there's no other option.
🤍nico hülkenberg
like carlos, he's very hands-on with you. the only real "toys" he uses with you are blindfolds and ribbons to hold your wrists in place. one time, he tried handcuffing you to the bed but seeing the marks on your wrists scared him so he threw them away after that :((
drivers i think just wouldn't be into toys very much, if at all:
valtteri bottas, fernando alonso, zhou guanyu
intentionally excluded: checo, lance, kmag, ocon
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DPXDC prompt. Ghost King uses Uno Reverse Card
Ghosts are not a race of evil creatures that most people think they are. And Danny was really happy when the Infinite Realms were able to make peace treaties with most countries of the human world. Ghosts, however, are a very vindictive race. At least that’s how young Phantom explained himself to Batman afterwards.
It just so happens that a couple of hours before the event aimed at expanding intergalactic unions most of the JLeague members due to an emergency call went on a mission. Which means people who had any authority in Phantom’s eyes became unavailable for a while.
So Shazam and Phantom as the most known outside the Earth were assigned to greet the guests and most importantly to entertain the visitors until the founders of JL return.
According to Phantom, Batman, being such a good detective with a bunch of backup plans, should have known that Danny’s favorite cereal ran out this morning, that he was late for first class, and that after school he had a fight with his parents. No, seriously, aren’t so-called scientists supposed to be able to admit mistakes in their own judgment? Danny got tired of being constantly ashamed of their behavior near other ghosts. It's bad enough that his authority as a ruler is sustained only by the support of those Ancients with whom he maintains friendly relations. Average citizens still doubt that he is a is sufficient to claim the throne. He’s had enough of being accused of not being a full-fledged ghost.  He’s not ready to hear rumors that he supports his parents' racist judgments too. In short, his day sucked. And all his ghostly nature now wanted to do something nasty to his neighbors to get rid of the tension.
Alien leader stretched out a hand to Phantom and Shazam. “Your Majesty Phantom, Champion of Magic. It’s an honor to meet you. I hope I learned the proper greeting gesture of the local intelligent race.”
And with that Danny’s reserve of conscience ran out. It’s a perfect moment to feed his need to be a little shit.
“The local intelligent race?’ Danny had this extreme bewilderment on his face. “Which one do you think..? Earth was the home of the Gods and of various inhabitants of the galaxy but it was a long time ago.”
Woman is clearly confused. Great. “E-Earthers. I think they’re called that.”
“Earthlings, intelligent race? You must be mistaken.” Danny faked a giggle. “Who told you that crap?”
“Phantom, what are you doing?” Batman hissed at him from an earpiece. Danny turned the sound off with a clear conscience. “I mean, seriously, there’s not a single serious study in the science library in this galaxy or any other galaxy that says humans are intelligent. Shazam, do you think they’re..?”
For some reason, Billy immediately remembered watching a man spend his entire salary on lottery tickets last week. And of course he was careless enough to shake his head and snort. That was all Phantom needed.
“Exactly. Earthlings don’t have to be intelligent to mimic the behavior of more evolved species. Surely you are well aware that Martians and Kryptonians, and many others have visited Earth at different stages of human development. My supervisor Clockwork and I have long been observing this strange species. In many ways, their behavior resembles a mixture of instinctive reactions of specimens from the 126 sectors of the nearest SBc Galaxy and several other creatures from planets of the galaxy KV59. However, even I, as an anthropologist with extensive experience of observing human species in their natural habitat, still have to explore and discover many of their secrets.”
“I do not understand. According to the documents among the delegation that greets us there are Earthlings. I mean I don’t question the scientific evidence of a respected Chronos or you, but why then..”
“Of course you don’t! It’s really quite simple. For the purity of the clinical experiment, which we are conducting now, it is necessary that Earthlings feel themselves ostensibly full participants of the «society» consisting of members with developed intelligence.”
“So, any luck, colleague?” Shazam, who realized that Batman would now skin them anyway, decided to at least participate in this theater so that the punishment would be at least deserved.
“Well, we’ve certainly come up with some interesting preliminary insights about the adaptive capacity of the human brain in limited contact with Martians. Of course, humans do not have real emotions to be full participants in communication, but their attempts and zeal are very inspiring.”
~~~~~
Meanwhile, Fentons watching a live broadcast of what was supposed to be an interplanetary friendship encounter are beginning to realize that if trying to punish a rebellious human teenager has always been difficult for them, the attempt to control the behavior of the 14 y/o half-ghost may become a nightmare not only for them.
Jack: Honey, I think Danny’s still a little upset about our old theories about the ability of ghosts to feel or think.
Jazz, sitting between them with the face of a man resigned to the chaos around her, could not restrain the sarcasm: Really? Why would you think that?
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q1ngqve · 8 months ago
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CW; double penetration, threesome, pet names, degradation, praise, literally brain rot & not proofread because i wrote this on a whim
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wrio and gallagher tag team because i cannot stop watching & thinking about that tiktok "૮₍ ˶•⤙•˶ ₎ა !!!!! they are so so mean! the meanest :( sandwiches you between them as they run their hands all over you ahhhhh >ᴗ< be a good girl and let them play with you or else you’ll get handcuffed with your hands behind your back!
but where’s the fun in being a “good girl” right? you’d piss them off by turning your head away each time they tried to kiss you, resulting in gallagher gripping at your cheeks with an angry smile, “stay still—” ( ˶°ㅁ°) !! and you’d reply “or what?” with a cheeky grin! and that was it! usually they’d have infinite amounts of patience when it comes to you, but not today ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა
you could feel them poking you from the front and back, the flimsy skirt you’re wearing bunching up everytime wrio presses closer to you, making you squirm and buck back against his bulge (///▽///) he’d grab at your wrists roughly before securing them behind your back with his handcuffs!
meanwhile, gallagher wraps his hand around your throat, tugging your head forward so that your lips are inches away from his and you can feel his breath on your puffy lips ᡣ𐭩 “or we’ll have you stuffed with a dildo while we leave for work.” teehee — says lan
they’d manhandle you towards the bed and have you kneeling between them and straddling wrio with your face buried in his neck while gallagher gets behind you 🐾 the two work so well together it’s insane! wrio pulls you in by your nape to seal your lips together, pushing his tongue inside your mouth, teasing at your tongue while his hands rubs at your waist! all the while gallagher slides his fingers between your folds, sending snide remarks about how wet you are right to your ear, nibbling at your earlobes in the process
he has you cumming on his fingers with just a few pumps and rub of your clit! and wrio would tease you, says you’re “so sensitive,” and asks “how’re you going to take both of us if you’re already whimpering from just his fingers, hmm?”
wrio eases into you first! his fingers playing and tugging at your nipples while he kisses down your neck, telling you to relax for him!!!!! grunts and bites at your shoulder when he bottoms into you (꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) distracts you by kissing you again as gallagher slides into your ass!
both lets out the sexiest sounds known to mankind when they feel you squeeze around them, your juices coating and leaking out onto their thighs! moves at the same time, and your head starts going dizzy, it just feels too good! and and they’d tease you again, “so full of dick you can’t even speak coherently anymore?” you can’t even fight back, your whole body soft and trembling against them
you’d whimper their name softly when your head lifts when gallagher pulls at your roots, giving them easy access to kiss at your shoulders and neck ౨ৎ so so many praises! tells you “you’re taking us so well, pretty girl.” let’s not forget the degratory dirty talk though! “look at you sucking us in like that, you like having us fucking deep inside you, yeah? oh, we know you do, sweetheart.”
guides you through your high! knows you’re so sensitive from them practically impaling and splitting you in half ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა makes you relax into their holds as wrio plays with your clit and gallagher massaging your tits!
“that’s it, baby, just relax and cum for us. c’mon, you’ve got this.”
cums inside you after you orgasm and clamp down on them like a vice! you’re too blanked out to even notice them pulling out and pushing their cum back into you! ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -。꒱ྀི১ cleans you up afterwards and you curl up between them, satisfied and ready to pass out <3
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plasticferal · 10 months ago
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hey queen! can you pls do an angst story with chris. where they get into an argument and chris said things he never meant. then he apologizes to her afterwards. ( basically angst to fluff)
damsel in distress | chris sturniolo.
i added my own twist to this ask. it's my favourite prompt so thank you! 18+ protective!ex-boyfriend chris x fem!reader. fighting, touches on themes of unwanted attention, mentions of alcohol, explicit language. reader discretion is advised. p.s inspired by the unreleased olivia rodrigo song 'prison for life'.
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the house is filled with familiar faces and strangers. a small gathering turned into a full blown house party from the moment the word got out. where the sturniolo triplets are, a flock follows. you sigh, pushing and shoving your way through the unwanted crowd.
all you want is to make it into the kitchen, miraculously being the only place no one wants to linger. the last person you need to see right now is your ex lover. chris is standing ahead of you, leaning on the kitchen counter, alone in the room. you shut the doors behind you, needing to escape. even if it means with him.
“if you wanted to get me alone, you could have just asked." he speaks smug, before taking a sip from his red solo cup.
“i'm not in the mood,” you dismiss. you open the fridge, eyes scanning the shelves but nothing calling your name.
you know you're not actually looking for anything, you just don't want to look at him. the entire night has you shaking with anger. from the mess in your home, the lack of care everyone is taking, the noise complaint you know you'll be getting later, and worst of all, that one guy who won't leave you alone.
you've never seen him before tonight, you don't even know his name, but all he's done is make you uncomfortable. try to dance with you, try to give you drinks. he brushes your waist every time he walks past.
all of your friends have been encouraging you to go for it, to get over chris. and honestly, you consider it for a moment. just to finally move on, but you can't bring yourself to. at least not with some random creep.
the break up is still raw. he tells everyone it was 'mutual' but it was a part on your request. he'd never throw you under the bus like that. he knows why you made your decision, he's never questioned it.
chris feels like it's unrequited love. although, you haven't lost any love for him, no matter how much you try to push him away. he has every right to despise you, but he doesn't.
every time you close a chapter with him, you find yourself in a sequel. it's like you're re-reading different stories, but the ending stays the same. your heart wants him, your brain wants to hate him.
"what's wrong?" he asks, sensing you're genuine in your frustration.
"nothing." you refuse to let him know what's happing in your world, let alone your mind. you don't need to let in him anymore, even though you want to let it out. he's the one person who could just sit and listen to you for hours on end.
"alright, just askin" his words trail off into a hush. he switches the tone, not wanting the conversation to stop.
“your friends are nice” he speaks in a sickeningly sweet tone, because if anyone knows how to kick you while you're down, it's him.
"you would think that" you scoff, implying that you've seen them throw themselves at him all night. him pouring them drinks, smiling and frothing over the attention he's receiving.
"the fuck is that supposed to mean?" his temperamental side seeps out, and you grow only more irritated.
"chris, can you get out please?" you huff, hands crossing over your chest. an unintentional way to seperate yourself from him, a metaphorical wall being put up.
"such a party pooper. you really gotta let loose, relax a bit." his words come out a lot more nasty that you hope he meant them, and it makes your face hot.
you give him the benefit of the doubt and think he's speaking with resilience, at the fact you keep shutting him down.
"i wonder why we ever broke up." you reply sarcastically, a fake smile on your face. he rolls his eyes, finishing off his drink and letting out an audible "ah," like a child finishing a juice box.
"i haven't seen you all night, y/n" his voice softens, and it becomes clear he's speaking for the sake of talking to you. he always wants to talk to you.
looking at the counter quickly to place his cup down, he looks back at you, tilting his head to the side slightly. he's not being horrible to you, he never has been. he's still in your life whether you like it or not, despite your hostility.
"sorry. i'm just tired." you lie. he knows it.
"your poker face isn't very good. i learnt that the hard way," he bounces his eyebrows, biting the tip of his tongue, eyes a bit wider as he stares at the ground and you can tell he's having a flashback.
you chuckle at the reference. the one time he caught you faking an orgasm didn't end very well, and he's been able to catch you out ever since. he's never been afraid to pull you up on your own fibs.
"sorry, again." you hug your body tighter, avoiding his eyes. he pushes himself off the counter with a stretch like hum and walks over to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.
"stop apologizing, you sound like matt," he rolls his eyes lightheartedly, and you let out a small laugh. that's always his intention, to make you smile.
"c'mon princess, let's get you a drink. seems like you need it." he nods toward to the door, rubbing your shoulder enthusiastically.
you let him try to fix your mood, because god knows you do actually need to stop stressing. you can't control what happens, just how you react. that's what chris always used to say when you were together.
feeling safe in his embrace, he security guard style moves you through the party. he hollers "excuse me!" and "coming through!" and everyone just listens, parting like the red sea. he's not the biggest guy in the room, but he sure is the most assertive. especially with you under his arm.
when you finally get to the drinks table, he makes you a vodka lemonade, saving the rest of the can for himself to finish off. it's not the most thrilling drink, but enough to keep you settled. ease the tension a bit. plus, it tastes good. no harm, no foul. as chris is mixing the liquids into cups, you feel an unwanted hand snake up around your hip.
"there you are. are you hiding from me?" your stomach drops at the voice of the mystery man towering over you, and you look ahead to watch chris's eyes snap up instantly.
chris lowers the cups, holding his eyes on the man behind you. you watch as he kinks his neck and his jaw tenses, taking a step closer. you shake your head at chris, holding a hand up subtly to tell him not to come any closer.
turning around, you stare up at the man. his breath reeks of liquor, and his shirt is drenched is sweat. it makes you sour your face and tense your entire body.
"i don't know what you want from me, but it's not gonna happen. i think you should leave." you speak sternly, trying not to let your voice shake with pure nerves. not even liquid confidence could help you right now.
"the party's just getting started," the man smiles, stumbling toward you in what you think is an attempt at a hug, but you begin pushing his body away from yours with a shove.
"dude, she doesn't want you. walk away." you hear chris's direct voice over your shoulder.
the last thing you want is negative attention on chris in a room full of people who would spread the news like wildfire. you never want that for him.
"it's okay, i got this." you dismiss chris in the nicest possible way, but you're being serious.
"come on, we'll have fun," the man hiccups through his words, mumbling them and tripping over toward you again.
"get the fuck away from her." chris's breath hits the back of your neck as he moves even closer to you.
"christopher, i'm serious. stop." you speak through grit teeth, so people can't read your lips, as he lingers next to you.
you try to be as inconspicuous as you can in your rejection to his advances, but he won't give up. the man appears more annoyed, and he grabs your wrist with a tight grip.
"let go of me." you grab the mans hand, trying to pry his grip without making it obvious.
you’re shaking at the thought of attention drawing. not for you, but for chris. eyes are already on you, being his ex. it's not what he ever wanted for you either. if he could make it all disappear, he would. it becomes more difficult when chris notices, and this time, has no intention of backing down.
"i'm not gonna repeat myself, back the fuck up." chris walks around your body, face to face with the guy who has a hold on you now.
"please, chris." you beg, voice quivering.
you know his temper can change in the blink of an eye. him and matt both have that in common.
"she doesn't need your help, pretty boy." the man splatters his words, a malicious smile on his face as he leans toward chris, almost nose to nose.
chris smiles criminally, flashing his teeth.
"you're right," chris puts his hands up in defence, a downward smile on his face as he chuckles darkly, taking a big step backward.
there's a feeling of relief, and intense fear as he actually does start to back away. but you know chris. unfortunately, it's unavoidable.
you try to catch his eyes, and speak through a begging stare without using words. he looks at you with sadness, and you mime the words, 'please don't'.
the moment the man tugs your wrist as if to leave with him, making you wince with the grip he holds. you regret your counteraction instantly, because chris reacts viscerally.
he flares his nostrils and squeezes his nails into his palm, balling up his hands by his hip. his knuckles are turning white.
before you can get pulled away, chris lunges forward with a tight fist, throwing a strong, perfectly aligned punch to the mans cheekbone. it throws the man to the ground in the blink of an eye, relieving the pressure on your skin. you stumble backwards, out of the line of fire.
chris steps heavily forward, shoving a foot into his ribcage before straddling his legs, completely overpowering him. the man projects forward to swing and hit chris's mouth. chris doesn't even flinch, like it was painless. you watch chris raise his arm up again to pummel down onto the now defenceless stranger.
the surrounding crowd gasps and yells, clearing the space that chris has created with his actions. iphone cameras flash, making you feel sick. the whispering and gossip you can already hear pounding in your head is overwhelming.
you feel so futile. chris is too in his own world to even realise the repercussions. you're not saying the guy didn't deserve it, you have no care in the world for him. you care about the aftermath.
in a fantasy world, a daydream, a fairytale even, this is attractive. a knight in shining armour, fighting for his lady. a world where there are no consequences, or social media, or fear. a reality chris has suddenly forgotten about.
he looks natural doing it, too. the veins in his arms so prominent, his tight mouth and huffed breaths as he gives it everything he's got.
you're frozen in shock, watching chris pelt another punch into the man, and you want to pull him off, you know you need to, but all your body can do is watch. watch the two men roughhousing and exchanging blows, chris taking every hit with pride.
you're numb to the feeling, screaming in your head.
appearing out of thin air, nick and matt are in your line of vision, hiding the chaos ahead of you. his brothers move into action before anyone else needs to.
they've obviously been summoned, but there's a part of you that believes they could just sense it. like they telepathically knew chris was getting himself into trouble by the lack of surprise they express.
nick grabs chris by the collar of his shirt, pulling him off. matt grabs his wrists, to stop him from using his fists. the fight comes undone, finally, but chris is disoriented. he spits onto the man as he's being escorted into the kitchen by his brothers.
your eyes burn with tears that refuse to fall, and matt sweeps your hand up, guiding you with them in a hurried manner. matt is trying to snap you back to reality, but it's just white noise.
chris hits his palm aggressively with frustration against the door frame of the kitchen as you all walk through, and you take a deep breath to compose yourself. your eyes are still welling as you choke back a sniffle, and you're not sure if it's shock, hurt, or anger anymore.
you're in a trance as you walk over to the freezer. your body is in autopilot, moving without you even knowing. you grab a frozen bag of vegetables out of the tray.
"so fucking stupid," you say nastily under your breath, slamming the door shut.
walking over to chris who's sat up on the ledge of the sink. you throw the packet at his chest, and he grabs it, questioning you for a second before matt walks over and shows him to place it on his bruised and red raw knuckles.
the room is filled with tension.
matt is biting his nails, you're leaning against the closed door, and nick finds himself squatting on the floor.
"what the actual fuck was that?" nick is too stunned to even yell, he just speaks aloud.
"i asked you not to, chris. i could have handled it myself." you shake your head, vision blurry as you stare vacantly ahead. you want to lash out at him, but for some reason you can't.
"yeah, it really looked like you had it under control." he crushes the frozen packet harshly against his hand.
"we'll leave you two alone." matt cuts through awkwardly, shooting nick a warning glare.
matt knows it's not his place to go off at chris right now. he'll do that later.
"but-" nick begins, and matt snaps toward the door. you hear nick sigh, knowing he would love nothing more than to stay and listen to you tear into chris. alas, they both leave promptly, matt flashing you a sympathetic smile on the way out.
you can hear from the other side of the door, both nick and matt are hustling trying to kick everyone out. it’s a weight lifted off your shoulders. the literal mess being left behind is the least of your worries now.
you're alone with chris in the kitchen again, the second time not being anymore pleasant than the first. you blame yourself fully for dropping your guard, even if for a second.
“i begged you not to, chris.” you repeat with a stern tone, laced with betrayal and genuine hurt.
he’s silent for a moment, staring at you from across the room with no emotion on his face. you know he feels terrible, he doesn’t have to show it. or tell you.
“did you think i was just gonna stand and watch?” he rebuttals.
“i would have preferred that, honestly.” you don’t understand how he can’t grasp the intensity of the situation.
"did you want him? go back out there then." he's bitter, pointing at the door. you roll your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief.
"chris," you start. he keeps talking.
“because i’m sure he’s still laying on the floor. go ahead. he might have a hard time talking now, though.” chris shrugs, speaking in a provoking manner.
“you’ll be lucky if he doesn’t press charges." you apprise.
“he should feel lucky i didn’t do worse.” he takes another step toward you, presumptuous in the way he carries himself.
"you've done a lot of stupid shit, chris. but that," you raise your hand as you speak, laughing in shock.
"that was unbelievable." you pinch the bridge of your nose, taking yet another deep breath.
"you know what's unbelievable is how you haven't even thanked me once" he ignores your words and bites back with irritation, face growing more twisted with upset.
"thank you?" you repeat, jaw dropping. you step toward him this time. you feel dejected trying to get him to understand.
"thank you for what? for causing a scene? for putting yourself in danger?" you step forward again, feeling like you could drive your heels into the ground beneath you.
"you're acting insane" he brings his hands to his head, tugging at his own hair with despair. his words sting, despite the back and forth arguing.
"you're the one that lashed out on that guy with no consideration for anyone else around you. that's insane" you speak with physical gestures unconsciously.
you're trying to reason with him, but with the state he's in, it's like trying to put a brain in a statue. you examine him, trying to search for his eyes but his body won't keep still, twisting and moving around.
"fuck, okay, i get it! i get it, y/n. you're not happy with me. you never fucking are apparently," his words trail off and he waves you away, turning his back to you. he sounds desperate for it to end.
you want to scream at him at the top of your lungs, and quite frankly, you could. your face burns and steam is about to shoot out of your ears.
"you don't need to protect me anymore, chris."
"i saved your ass out there." he speaks with his hand, four fingers direct to your chest. his words are like salt being rubbed into an open wound.
"saved me? that's a fucking stretch. your brothers saved your ass, because you don't think before you fucking act!"
"this is about YOU, y/n! what i did for you!" he slaps the back of right hand into the palm of his left.
"i'm not some damsel in distress that you need to sweep up and put in a tower, chris"
"yeah well at least in a tower you can't attract trouble." he speaks as if it's your fault, and of all the things he's just spit out, that's by far the worst. the most menacing and cut to the bone tone he's used.
"that was low, even for you." you huff, emotions at an all time high.
your breathing feels tight, but instead of reacting, you force yourself to seperate your emotions from the reality of the situation. you're both feeling very intensely, and expressing it the same way.
in hindsight, you could have redirected some of your emotions, but you also wish chris would take back some things he's said. there's no excuses.
chris re-collects himself and turns toward you again. he shrugs his shoulders, like he has nothing left to say. no fight left.
the closer chris is standing the more prominent his face is, and more specifically, his busted open lip.
you gasp in a mix of being upset, and shock. it feels like a piece of your heart is breaking off, seeing his delicate, pale skin so sore.
"your lip, chris." you exhale, stepping toward him.
he flinches when your hand raises to touch his face, and you know now that you've acknowledged it, it's hurting him. neither of you paid any attention to it amongst the turmoil.
"come here." you sigh, pulling his arm, bringing him over to where the paper towels are, in the corner of the sink.
tearing a white square into your hands, you rinse it under cold water lightly before squeezing the saturation out, leaving a damp cloth in your hand.
turning into chris's body, he looks down at you. he's still at last, and looks like he has no thoughts behind his now seemingly innocent eyes.
you cup his cheek gently, to turn his face downward. you bring the towel up to his lip, wiping his stained chin and mouth. he lets you, and doesn't even wince. he visibly gives into your touch. he's content.
"i need you to promise me you'll never do something like that again." you pull back, folding over a clean side and then wiping his lip softly, trying not to cause him pain.
"i can't promise that." he speaks in a whisper, as if he doesn't want you to hear his word.
with his lip no longer being red, you toss the damp and crumbling paper into sink, making it a problem for another time.
"why?" you look into his eyes, wiping your hands on your shirt.
his blue eyes are big but blameless, pupils dilated. holding his stare as your arm lowers.
"because if anyone lays a hand on you again, i'm going to prison for life." the piece of your heart that broke off earlier reattaches at his words alone.
chris's much shorter hair is spikey around his ears, and wet at the ends, turning dark brown from his sweat. you caress his messy curls, tucking it over the curves of his ears and taming the wispy strands. you hold his head in your hands, tiling him up and your mouths are inches apart.
"how hard did he hit your head?" you ask against his lips. he chuckles, genuinely.
he's an idiot, undeniably. but the gut wrenching, lawless love he has for you makes him that way. his low, smooth laughter, makes your heart skip a beat.
"i mean it, y/n."
"but i know, i know it was stupid." he admits.
"yeah, it was." you agree, shaking his head around slightly.
he grabs your hands with his own, engulfing them and holding them in his palms. he squeezes your hands, bringing them to his lips and kissing your knuckles.
"i'm sorry." he speaks on your skin.
"like really fucking sorry." he strains his head back with remorse, making his adam's apple more prominent, and he swallows hard. like he's swallowing his guilt.
"i said some nasty things. i wish i could take them back, y/n. i really do."
"i know, chris."
"no, you don't. i'll apologise to you everyday for the rest of my life if i have to. i've been horrible tonight."
"chris, enough," you hush him, the calmness in your tone making him understand you hear him. loud and clear. you need some time to forgive, but you absorb his words.
"i don't know how you didn't smack me in the mouth." he jokes, and you giggle through your breath.
"there's still time," you joke back. and he knows it by your tone.
"i could never bring myself to do that. as much as you deserve it." your banter eases the pressure, and you feel chris squeeze your hands in his again.
you rub your thumbs over his knuckles, looking at the little purple marks forming. he notices your face drop with stress, and he slips his hands away, moving to your hips instead.
"hey, i'm fine. i don't care what happens to me, i just need you to be okay."
"i am okay," you reply. he drops his face with a look that expresses he doesn’t believe you. you give a light eyeroll, and small smile.
"i mean it, i swear.” you raise your pinkie finger to him, to keep your promise. knowing it’s the only way he’ll actually believe you.
chris smiles, weak with his bruised lip, and wraps up your pinkie with his own, wriggling your hands around.
"i'm always gonna want to protect you." he pulls you toward his body. he's so warm, and radiates a magnetic energy that makes you want to collapse into his arms.
you know you don't need him to, but deep down, you would like his protection. his unconditional love. selflessness.
"i'll be sure to send you love letters in jail" you grin up at him, and laughs from the chest.
his voice is like a scratched record, fatigue taking over his body. you swallow hard, all of your senses coming back. he feels so real standing in front of you all of a sudden, like it's not just a dream you're about to wake up from.
"stay the night." you speak mindlessly.
chris brushes your hair from your face, cupping the back of your neck lightly to pull your forehead to his lips, kissing just above your eyebrows gently. he rests his chin on the crown of your head, pulling you tight to his chest in an embrace.
"i'll stay forever if you ask me to."
this is the feeling he fights for. requited love.
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wonuwonder · 1 year ago
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kitchen talk ✦ jeon wonwoo
they’re fighting, … again, but it gets hot
content: 1.5k words, fluff, smut, fem reader x wonwoo. established relationship. warnings: slight manhandling, unprotected sex (pls wrap it) anything else lmk! minors dni
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Wonwoo and you had had a fight, about something that you couldn’t even remember anymore, so now you were locked inside your room completely ignoring your boyfriend who was left behind in the living room. You heard him turn the tv off about half an hour ago, so he probably was already sleeping by now.
As the fight had happened right before dinner, you were starving, you hadn’t eaten anything since launch, and when Wonwoo came to the door afterwards to bring you something to eat, you were way too stubborn to accept it.
You got up to got to the kitchen, careful not to wake him up as you opened the door that connected to the living room. His back was turned against your room, so he didn’t notice. You opened the fridge and found the little bowl he had left for you, with a post-it that said;
‘Please eat, let’s talk later’
It warmed your heart honestly, making you smile lightly, knowing he would do something like this even if you were arguing. You put it in the microwave, trying to make as less noise as possible, you knew your boyfriend had a light sleep.
Turning around you found him staring at you leaning against the fridge with his arms crossed in front of his chest, scaring the hell out of you. He was wearing a long sleeve shirt that made his muscles stand out, and a pair of grey sweatpants that drove you crazy.
“Wonwoo! god - you gasped- you scared the shit out of me!”
“Oh i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to-“ he smirked mockingly at your reaction and suddenly you could remember everything about your stupid fight earlier. The microwave beeped, telling you your food was ready so you turned around to plate it.
Your boyfriend let out a deep sigh and approached you from behind, resting his two big hands on the counter in front of you, locking you in front of him. You froze for a second, but kept doing your thing with the food, trying your best to ignore his presence. But he was determined to fluster you, he hid his head in your shoulder, making you shiver, as he started leaving sloppy kisses all around your neck.
“…Wonwoo- you sighed- what do you want?” you asked.
“Your attention” he answered softly and it almost broke your heart.
You gave up, now resting your head against his chest meeting his eyes, as he was much taller than you. He burried his head in the crook of your neck, hugging you from behind inhaling your sweet smell.
“I’m sorry y/n, let’s not fight anymore, i should’ve listened to you” he continued to kiss your neck
“i’m sorry too, we always get too riled up instead of talking-” you turned your head towards him and gave him a quick peck “now let me eat because i’m starving” you continued.
“You know what?, I have a better idea” he said slowly biting the hem of you ear, he let go of his tight grip resting one hand against the counter again, and the other on your waist, pressing you from behind with his crotch, grunting softly, making you feel his growing erection.
“Staring at your ass is always fun until it leaves me like this” he kissed your neck, definitely leaving a mark this time, making you whimper in pleasure.
You were wearing one of his big t-shirts and panties which meant easy access, so he quickly presses his hand against your clothed pussy.
“I barely touched you and you’re this wet already?” he asks smirking- “weren’t you supposed to be mad at me babe?” he scoffs.
“Loose the attitude or you’re not getting anything” you say half annoyed half turned on by his banter.
He starts to move his fingers in circles against your clit, but he stops turning you around, grabbing your thighs, “Up” he says and you do so, sitting on the counter, intertwining your legs around his hip, he squeezes your thighs and starts kissing you passionately, the kiss getting hotter by the minute.
He starts toying with the hem of your shirt dying to get it off, and you do just that, displaying yourself for him, you weren’t wearing a bra.
“Fuck you’re so beautiful y/n” wonwoo says.
He gets closer to you and starts playing with your tits, licking your nipples making you moan instantly, caressing the other with his hand. When he kisses your mouth again, you start tugging at this shirt, desperately trying to see more of him.
“Get it off” you demand.
“Okay, bossy” he scoffs, and does just like you told him - god he was ripped- you thought.
You feel his abs almost instantly, trying to bring him more against you, although it was physically impossible to be closer, you couldn’t get enough of him.
“Like what you see?” he says with the biggest smirk on his face, kissing you again.
Settling his hands on your thighs he spreads you open, almost drooling at the sight, he moves your panty to the side and inserts one finger, you exhale deeply and start kissing him again, in between kisses he presses another finger to your entrance, grunting on your lips, making you moan, arching your back, your perky nipples touching his chest.
“Wonwoo I- I need you” you moan in-between kisses.
Extending your hand to stroke his bulge from under his pants, it was painfully hard by now.
“Fuck” he grunts.
He looses his pants and boxers at the same time and his cock springs out almost reaching his belly button. You take a moment to really look at your boyfriend, he was perfect, and so fucking hot. You reach for him, and start stroking and pumping his dick again, making him moan loudly, kissing him and leaving marks on his chest and neck, while he plays with your pussy, caressing your clit and folds with his fingers.
“Babe I can’t wait much longer” he says.
You stop to look him in the eye and kiss him again.
“Me neither” you reply, your lips already swollen from all the kissing.
He stretches the straps of your panties making them hit your skin lightly, reminding you still got them on, you gasp out loud from the sudden flick.
“Off, baby, now” he demands - how could he be so hot?- you thought.
You do as he says and get them off very slowly taking your time to tease him, as he follows you carefully with his eyes, you spread yourself even more on top of the counter, making him drool. He grabs your thighs and pulls you closer to him roughly, the both of you moaning as his dick grazes your entrance, and you start rubbing yourself impatiently against him, coating yourself and him with your wetness.
“Fuck Wonwoo you’re so big” you whimper.
“You can take it” he grunts back reassuring yourself -as always- and positions himself in front of your entrace.
His cock was long and thick, he starts making his way inside of you, it wasn’t even half in, and you already felt so full, gripping your thighs he pushes all of his cock inside you, stretching you open, making you cry out loud because of the stretch.
“That’s right baby, you can take it” you suck a breath in and while he waits for you to adjust to his size.
He leaves soft kisses all over your chest and shoulders.
“Alright move, I need m-more” you say, and in no time he’s moving slowly inside of you, and when you relax more into him, he starts picking up the pace. “Ugh you feel so good baby” you moan arching your back for him, pulling his hair.
“Oh yeah? you like that?” he grunts and goes harder on you, already taking you to the edge.
“Wonwoo i’m- i’m close”, he thrusts in one more time and pulls out of your pussy, making you clench around nothing.
He pulls you down, turning your hips around, and bends you over the counter, manhandling you like crazy, which turned you on even more. He smacks your ass and grips it tightly spreading your cheeks for him, meeting your entrance again with his cock, all you can do is moan and whimper in pleasure, taking what your boyfriend gives you. You rest your hand against the marble counter steading yourself as he’s pounding you from behind.
“Fuck you feel so good around me” he whimpers, gaining nothing but a moan from you back.
“I’m-m gonna” you start, barely getting your words out.
“I know baby me too” you can feel his cock throbbing inside you, clenching hard around him as he thrusts deeply into you.
You both come undone at the same time, breathing like crazy. His thrusts become sloppy as he moves in a couple more times and then slowly pulls out of you, his cum dripping out of your cunt.
He flips you around to look at you. You’re both smiling like idiots, resting your forehead against his, he kisses you softly. Feeling you get tired he picks you up and you wrap your legs around his hips, grunting lightly at the sensation again.
“C’mon baby, lets get washed up and eat together this time” he says finding your gaze in the dim light of the kitchen, leaving a quick kiss to your lips again. Gosh you loved him so much.
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an: posted a new wonwoo drabble smut🤭 toast rule (m)
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theminecraftbee · 20 days ago
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because it amused my friends but is also a useful metaphor, i'm going to tell a story now: so there was this one time i punched my dentist.
i have never done something like that before or since. i was getting a filling, see, very routine. (side note: i quite liked that dentist; he has since retired but he's always been not exactly "nice" but not mean about things like this. had a specific manner that worked well with my anxiety.) the dentist numbed the nerve that went to that part of my jaw and got stuff to start on the work.
what neither he nor i knew was this: i was actually in the small percentage of people that actually needed a SECOND nerve numbed to fully numb that part of my face. so when he started trying to do the "drill the cavity and give the filling" part, i started to feel pain. now, he'd warned me ahead of time this was a possibility! there was a thing i was supposed to do if that happened!
what actually happened is that my brain went: "I NEED TO MAKE THIS STOP I'M GONNA PUNCH THIS GUY".
i then immediately burst into tears.
luckily my dentist is a dentist and has had people fight-or-flight far more spectacularly and also far more effectively given that i don't know how to hit people. i managed to do exactly jack shit and he was bemused afterwards.
the thing is: this was not a sensible response to the situation! the dentist still had both a drill and a needle! i was way more likely to hurt myself than the dentist! my brain did not care. i was experiencing an adrenaline response, my brain felt helpless in the face of the pain to flight, so fight it was.
anyway, that's the emotion i am currently experiencing. i do not have the capacity to flight. so goddamn is my brain trying to find a good way to punch the problem.
this isn't a BAD impulse--hitting the dentist DID make him remove the drill from my mouth--but it's an impulse more likely to hurt me than help me unless i take a moment to go "maybe i SHOULDN'T punch the guy holding sharp objects right at my face", because it's not a rational brain response, it's a pure instinctive response. and it's an indicator i'm in fight-or-flight and should do everything in my power to avoid making any decisions that can't be undone, be those decisions "impulsively buy a bunch of tea" or far more severe.
my brain is currently trying to punch the dentist, and by the dentist i mean the election. i am not trustworthy.
but what i CAN do is this: i am going to volunteer at my local homeless shelters. this is an action i can channel my desire to punch the problem into that will help someone. look up your local volunteer organizations. organize into action. and do something that's more like "inform the dentist in the way you planned ahead of time that you're hurting" than "punch him and nearly get your eye poked out", you know?
and we will continue.
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preposterousjams · 18 days ago
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My opinion on the Latino Jason Todd headcanon
While I do understand ppl's criticism of the latino Jason todd headcanon and how its kind of racist to make the kid with parents with drug problems as the latino one, to me its more of a reclamation BECAUSE of DC's racism.
Read any 80s/90s batman issue that covers gang violence and drugs, most if not ALL of the criminals are poc; black people and latinos visibly make up the majority in the poorer neighbourhoods in Gotham. Aside from the caricaturist way they r drawn/speak, its not THAT weird cause its a reflection of irl big cities where immigrants and marginalised ppl are often forced to live in such situations, (like most of my dominican family lives in the bronx... it aint racist to say dominicans tend to flock there), BUT...the weird part is when the second a sympathetic character comes from that area, he's white and has a name thats "too fancy for the streets".
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Obviously, Jason was created to look like the old robin, so I can't say that the whole "diamond in the rough" situation was purposely a tad bit racist, but its still a lil weird (especially with bruce's comment).
If Jason were a part of the overwhelming demographic in his area, the good-kid-in-a-bad-area trope has less connotations. DC is currently trying to fix this trope is by making crime alley whiter, which isn't bad but they could've just yk... humanised the non-white residents.
I also feel like the messed up way Jason was treated post-death is what makes him so relatable to latino readers. His tragic story of dying while trying to save his only living relative is turned into a lesson for newer vigilantes. Jason's particular disdain for abusers on a few occasions was twisted (by both writers and characters) into him always being dumb, reckless, cocky, angry and disobedient, always violent, never having been able to get over his upbringing. None of those things were true (he was a normal level of reckless and cocky like every other robin, not more), but its an easier narrative to digest compared to how it was in reality; a kid who worked so hard and loved even harder, died to save a woman who couldn't care less about his existence. He was an emotional AND smart kid who wanted so bad to help others get better but was remembered as too emotional (in a bad way).
THIS is the reality for many latino diasporas in day to day life; Theres no question that Latino culture is passionate and emotive, but people from other cultures assume that it is followed by instead of logical. both can coexist. emotion does not mean u have no logic. Emotions can be irrational but they aren't inherently that way, and I wouldn't say that the moments where Jason lashed out as a teenager were irrational (in og runs, not rewrites post red hood), they were mostly done to protect someone (going crazy on abusers, disobeying batman to save sheila, that time he got into a fight at school to defend his friend).
A lot of euro-centric culture is OBSESSED with the idea that rationality is separate from feelings and emotions, but not crying at a funeral doesn't mean you're better than those who do. Emotions are the basis of human ethics and morals, they define the way we interact as a collective and ignoring them does not mean they are not there. Theres no winner to a contest of who can feel the less. And the way Jason's emotions are treated (pre-rh, hes definitely unhinged afterwards lol) is so in line with how white culture tends to punish those who aren't ashamed to feel.
I TOTES UNDERSTAND that some ppl who headcanon Jason as latino are doing it for the complete opposite of reasons, like "oh here some angry emotional guy with druggie parents, haha must be latino". Its weird. I dont like it. And its only brought up so he can swear in spanish in some rlly bad text post where his emotions are getting out. But to me there's so much potential for metanarrative and commentary on how latinos are treated in media that can be exemplified through the way his character is treated. Being latino would add SO MUCH DEPTH to his character and his dynamic with the others.
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