#ill stop talking now before i say more things that can be used against me
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cherubytes · 1 year ago
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im outlining his model so i can figure out how to draw him but this is the only thing going thru my mind rtn
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rafeandonlyrafe · 4 months ago
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sore and satisfied
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words: 1k
warnings: 18+ only!!, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex (reader is on birth control), dubcon!!, mentions of baby trapping, kinda pregnancy kink? its more of a control thing, dom!rafe, kinda fluffy at the end??, manipulation, bruises
“no.” you whine, feeling rafes rough hands cup your cheeks as he raises your face up to meet his. “im still sore from last time.”
“but you felt so good, right?” rafe questions, his lips ghosting over yours, his breath hot against you, making your mouth drop open, expecting the fierce kiss.
“yes…” it did feel good, even through the rough pounding and spankings and rafe gripping you so tightly you still have bruises.
“and ill be much gentler this time, baby.” rafe finally gives you a kiss, and it's like he's trying to convince you of his ability to stay gentle as his lips glide over yours.
“promise?” you whimper, hands gripping onto rafes shirt as you already start to go weak in the knees.
“of course baby.” rafe grins down at you, and you should have known what that grin meant, but you let him take you upstairs anyways.
his hands are gentle at first, undressing you carefully and praising you, celebrating every inch of your body that gets revealed.
“such a pretty pussy.” rafe says, cocking his head to the side as he looks between your thighs. “already looks ready for me to fuck.”
“need a little-” you're about to ask for something, for rafe to use his mouth again or rub you with his fingers, anything to open you up more, when rafe stands suddenly.
hes stripped naked before you can even blink, cock hard and jutting from his muscled body.
“i thought you said-”
“i haven't been rough yet, have i?” rafe will fight you to get inside your cunt if he has to, but he prefers you be pliable enough for him until he begins fucking you.
“n-no.” you admit, spreading your legs a little wider. sure, you'd prefer to be a little wetter, but if rafe is taking things slowly and gently you should have enough time to open up.
“exactly.” rafe says, letting out an exasperated sigh. “im gonna fuck you now and i don't want to hear you complaining.”
that's when you know you're really in trouble. rafes nice streak is done as he lays himself over your body, not bothering to hold himself up and dropping his full weight onto you.
“rafe!” you squeal out as his cock pushes against your entrance, hesitating for just a beat before he's pushing into you.
to rafes credit, he holds back somewhat. waits just a moment before he begins his punishing strokes, so hard and fast your head is instantly spinning.
rafes hands grip the same bruises on your hips, deepening them again, turning them into darker spots for everyone to see next time you don a swimsuit.
“mine.” rafe growls out, pressing a harsh kiss to your lips that's all teeth and tongue. 
you let out a cry when he bites your bottom lip and gives it a tug, but the rush goes straight to your traitorous pussy.
you can feel your wetness growing as he fucks you, your walls becoming slicker and easier to move against.
“that's it.” rafe praises you. “can feel how much you like this.”
you want rafe to stop teasing you, it's bad enough he's abusing your pussy, he doesn't need to add to it with his words too, but even as your hands come up to cover face, he continues.
“my little slut. bet you can cum from just my cock. won't even have to touch your dirty clit to have you gushing around me.”
you know he's right. you can feel your orgasm building despite wanting to beg rafe to slow down, feeling the near painful stretch inside of you and the soreness growing exponentially as he fucks your already hurt pussy.
“soon you're gonna always be ready for me. ill rip your panties off and you'll already be soaked. and the best part is-” rafe is grunting as he talks, his fantasy expanding as his cock pummels you. “you won't even mean to. it'll be your bodies response to my body. trying to protect itself, make it easier, cause less pain.”
“and it will be better for both of us then. you just need to adjust to this, baby.” rafes voice moves to an almost sweet tone, so close to comforting if it wasn't for the fact that he's taking you raw as he talks. “then ill be able to fuck you so easily. and as often as i want without having to worry about your little pussy hurting.”
“okay.” you whisper. you're not sure if you can form any more words, but it's satisfactory enough for rafe as he presses a kiss to your lips.
“gonna cum inside you real soon. gonna fill you up. think you can get pregnant for me baby? swell that little tummy up?”
“rafe.” you pout, a few tears slipping down your cheeks. “stop teasing.”
“aw come on, we both know you're on birth control.” rafe rolls his eyes, but it doesn't stop him from imagining claiming you, showing the world proof of your fucking, proof that you're his and only his.
“but one day ill get you off of it. if i can't convince you maybe ill just have to switch your pills out for placebos. you won't even know until your tummy starts to swell.”
“rafe!” your tone is harsh, and it doesn't go unpunished as rafes thrusts reach even deeper, so far inside of you that you're squirming to get away only for rafe to hold you down into the bed, the mattress squishing under your combined weight.
“gonna cum right into your cervix since you're being a brat.” you can feel when rafe presses against it, your eyes widening as your high suddenly breaks, wetness gushing around rafes cock just like he knew would happen.
your pussy clamps down on rafes cock, keeping him sucked in as he starts to cum, long spurts releasing into your cunt as rafes moans and curses fill the room, echoed with your quieter whines and gasps.
“how's your pussy feel now baby?” rafe asks.
“sore.” you pout, which rafe quickly kisses off your face as he pulls out.
“fine, won't fuck you anymore then since you always complain about it hurting.” rafe shrugs, feigning like he's getting out of bed when you grab his hand and pull him back to your side.
“no!” you say quickly before taking a breath and settling in next to rafe. “no, i never said that.”
“exactly.” rafe puts his arms around you, tugging you into his chest, keeping you close to him, right where he wants you always.
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emberwhite · 10 months ago
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I spent the last 11 months working with my illustrator, Marta, to make the children's book of my dreams. We were able to get every detail just the way I wanted, and I'm very happy with the final result. She is the best person I have ever worked with, and I mean, just look at those colors!
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I wanted to tell that story of anyone's who ever felt that they didn't belong anywhere. Whether you are a nerd, autistic, queer, trans, a furry, or some combination of the above, it makes for a sad and difficult life. This isn't just my story. This is our story.
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I also want to say the month following the book's launch has been very stressful. I have never done this kind of book before, and I didn't know how to get the word out about it. I do have a small publishing business and a full-time job, so I figured let's put my some money into advertising this time. Indie writers will tell you great success stories they've had using Facebook ads, so I started a page and boosting my posts.
Within a first few days, I got a lot of likes and shares and even a few people who requested the book and left great reviews for me. There were also people memeing on how the boy turns into a delicious venison steak at the end of the book. It was all in good fun, though. It honestly made made laugh. Things were great, so I made more posts and increased spending.
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But somehow, someway these new posts ended up on the wrong side of the platform. Soon, we saw claims of how the book was perpetuating mental illness, of how this book goes against all of basic biology and logic, and how the lgbtq agenda was corrupting our kids.
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This brought out even more people to support the book, so I just let them at it and enjoyed my time reading comments after work. A few days later, then conversation moved from politics to encouraging bullying, accusing others of abusing children, and a competition to who could post the most cruel image. They were just comments, however, and after all, people were still supporting the book.
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But then the trolls started organizing. Over night, I got hit with 3 one-star reviews on Amazon. My heart stopped. If your book ever falls below a certain rating, it can be removed, and blocked, and you can receive a strike on your publishing account. All that hard work was about to be deleted, and it was all my fault for posting it in the wrong place.
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I panicked, pulled all my posts, and went into hiding, hoping things would die down. I reported the reviews and so did many others, but here's the thing you might have noticed across platforms like Google and Amazon. There are community guidelines that I referenced in my email, but unless people are doing something highly illegal, things are rarely ever taken down on these massive platforms. So those reviews are still there to this day. Once again, it's my fault, and I should have seen it coming.
Luckily, the harassment stopped, and the book is doing better now, at least in the US. The overall rating is still rickety in Europe, Canada, and Australia, so any reviews there help me out quite a lot. I'm currently looking for a new home to post about the book and talk about everything that went into it. I also love to talk about all things books if you ever want to chat. Maybe I'll post a selfie one day, too. Otherwise, the book is still on Amazon, and the full story and illustrations are on YouTube as well if you want to read it for free.
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envy-of-the-apple · 5 months ago
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Keep Your Head In The Game
Yandere! Victoria Neuman x reader
(Warnings: threats of murder, non con touching/kissing, implied captivity)
Working at the Bureau had been your dream job. 
Vought had ruined so many people’s lives. It felt good to be part of something that stood against that company for those who couldn't. Despite not having powers, even you could be a hero. You'd worked under Victoria Neuman for years. You knew everything about her. 
And then Hughie Campbell ruined everything. 
You’d like to think of him as a friend. You and him had lunch together sometimes. You’d sit and smile as he went on and on about his girlfriend. He was a nice guy. You’d like to think that he and you were close. 
But Hughie broke you.  
Evidence. He’d shown you evidence of what she’d done. So much blood. So much gore. The orphanage, the files. 
“She’s one of them,” he’d whispered right before he fled into the night, “stay away from her. Quit. Please, for your sake, don’t go back to that fucking snake den.” 
And then he was gone. Just like that. 
Work in the Bureau continued as normal. Safe for the rumors of Soldier boy sightings, everything was so…fine, even without him. 
Even Neuman was unphased. 
She still smiled and laughed and told jokes as she surrounded herself with regular humans. She curled her lip when Supes were discussed. You used to love it when she brought Zoe around, but even her daughter you couldn’t even trust to be real. 
Victoria didn’t act like a Supe. 
But Hughie wasn't lying. 
Friday night. The bureau had a party going on tonight. Another Supe had been successfully put away. Those were always a sight, especially considering Gina would get shitfaced. You couldn’t go, feigning illness before you slipped out the night. You couldn’t enjoy yourself, not when you had so much to think about. 
Instead of enjoying the night with coworkers, you found comfort in the hardest liquor in your cabinet. Your one true friend. 
Not Hughie. Not anymore. Hughie left. Or maybe he was killed. Who knows. Who fucking cares. 
There’s a knock on your door. When you ignore it, it comes again louder. You groan, but you pull yourself off the couch eventually. Your neighbor again. You need to have a talk with her about disturbing you at odd hours of the night. 
“You look like you’ve seen better days.”
You can only stare. Victoria tilts her head. 
“Gonna let me in or will I have to stand out here?” 
Against your judgment, the instinct of always listening to your boss kicking in, you open the door. She elegantly steps in, surveying your home. 
She’s wearing that blue suit you’ve always complimented her on. Earlier, you would have admired her professional elegance. Now, it makes her look more inhuman. She looks even more out of place in your shabby apartment, studying your upkeep. 
“Sorry,” you say when you stop gawking, “I…I hadn’t had time to clean up.” 
“Don’t worry about it.” Victoria waves you off. “Just checking in on my favorite employee. How’re you feeling, by the way.” 
“Good.” You quickly reply. “I was just feeling a little under the weather earlier. I hope I didn't worry you." 
"Why wouldn't I be worried?" She tilts her head, grinning with straight white teeth that get increasingly eerie the longer you stare. "We're friends, aren't we?" 
Before, you wouldn't have blinked twice at her words and tone. You would have mindlessly agreed, smiled even. But things were different now. You were playing pretend with a known murderer. 
If you close your eyes, you can still remember the faces in that court before their heads exploded. You'd been behind a screen, watching it all in horror and you remembered closing your eyes and begging for Victoria to be alright, praying that it would be okay if everyone died but her. 
And now to realize she caused all that? 
"Maybe you have a fever. You're shaking." 
You were. You clasp your trembling hands together, trying to ease your nerves. 
"Yeah." Even your voice was wavering. Calm down. Calm down. "I still might not be over...whatever I came down with."
The predator clicks her tongue in sympathy, cooing as she nears her prey. You force yourself not to stiffen when she wraps a sturdy hand around your shoulders, leading you over to the couch. You sit next to her with your thigh pressed up against hers. You feel like you're about to vomit. 
"You should rest," Victoria says, "take a few days off work. I'll let everyone know." 
"Yeah," you say because this is good, it'll help you focus on what you need to do next, "definitely, thank you." 
"Oh, please, don't thank me." She laughs. "I'm glad you're not in the office because you're sick. For some reason, I thought you were avoiding me. Y'know, 'cause you were scared, I would pop your head." 
One second. Two seconds. And then you're up, scrambling off the sofa. It's instinct to run from monsters, no matter if they would take your head off your shoulders on a whim, whenever they want. It's instinct to be stupid and careless and run. 
If anything, you should be grateful this monster is her. 
She's strong, like all Supes are. Even though you know what she is, it takes you a moment to realize it's Victoria who had pinned you against the couch, keeping you underneath her. You used to win arm-wrestling competitions against her. The pressure caused your lungs to tighten, making it hard to breathe. Even has you struggled, tried to claw at her hands, tug on her pristine clothes, she didn't budge. You think the worst thing about all of this was that it didn't even look like it took much effort to keep you down. Like she was wrestling a kitten. 
"Easy, easy." She hushes, tone soft and condescending. "C'mon, we're both adults, aren't we? Let's be civil here." 
Civil. Like she had any right to use that word after what she's done for months, perhaps all her life. Your heart is a hummingbird frazzled with fear, but you can feel that twinge of anger and resentment even then. Something else too: betrayal. 
"Why?" You asked, your voice failing. "Why, Vicky?" 
For the first time tonight, her mask cracks. Her eyes flicker, looking at your defeated body before coming back up to your face. She looks remorseful, but not guilty. 
"I didn't....I didn't want you to find out this way." She admits, slightly easing off you, enough to ease the force in your lungs. "Or maybe ever, actually. Fucking Cambell, leaving a mess, and then running off. What else can you expect from that guy, right?" 
You just stare. Victoria sighs. 
“Of all people, I thought you would understand.” Her voice wavers. “I thought you’d get it, somehow.” 
You look at her, and you feel like you’re staring at that girl from Red River. Scared and Trembling Nadia, who just wanted love, someone to lean on. Someone who wasn't scared of her. 
Then it flickers, and then Victoria's back. 
"You murdered a whole room." You finally say. "How could you possibly ask me to understand that?" 
She glowers, her frown deepens, and then she's sitting up, getting off you. You learn your lesson from last time, but you still huddle in the corner of the sofa, watching her. 
"Right, because I'm supposed to believe you feel bad for them." Victoria rolls her eyes. "Half of those guys vacationed on Epstein's island before the brand change, and you were there when those deep fakes came out. Remember Congressmen Davis? He kept staring at your ass on the House Floor, so I'm not sure why you're acting like they're suddenly men of valor." 
"Yes, yes, yes, they were terrible people." You press your hand to your forehead. "But you-we-we can't kill people. We-we're supposed to do things the right way and I just-" You choke on your words. 
"Hughie got to you," she notes, "I knew I shouldn't have paired you up with each other." 
"You lied to me." You murmur. There's no anger anymore, just heartbreak. "You lied to everyone. I thought we were fighting against Vought, but we've been in their pocket this whole time." 
"We're still fighting-" 
"You're Stan Edgar's daughter. We're in their pocket."
You press your hands to your face, squeezing. All the while you can feel Victoria watching. You ignore her. There's no point in talking to her, not anymore. You might not have known Victoria, but you know the Supe that committed a massacre. Her cover was blown. You were a leaking faucet she needed to turn off. 
"What now?" You ask, drawing up to look at her. "Are you going to kill me?" 
Her mouth twitches. Her eyes flicker with realization. A soft coo comes from her lips, utterly condescending. Suddenly, her posture changes: less intimidating, more welcoming. 
"Oh, sweetie, is that why you're so upset?" She shifts until you're trapped in her arms. You don't bother fighting. Your bravery has run out. Tears are already dripping down your cheeks. "You thought I was gonna...." There's a laugh spilling off her lips. You squeeze your eyes shut when she hugs you tighter. 
"I'm not gonna hurt you," Victoria says, a smile in her voice. "Not to you. Never to you." 
Her hands are so warm as she cradles your face, forcing you to look at her. It's a gentle type of cruelty, forcing you to face your fears while the monster gives you a beautiful smile. 
"I cherish you too much to do that." 
You must look so lost. She laughs even more at that. 
"Seriously? It wasn't obvious? C'mon, Zoe is crazy about you, she never shuts up. And I...I think it's better if I just..." 
Her lips are soft. Gentle. You don't kiss back. You can't. You're frozen in ice. 
"I won't hurt you." Then, her tone tightens just the tiniest bit. "You're friends and family, on the other hand..."
When she pulls away, she's the most relaxed you've ever seen her. You wish you could say the same. While her smile grows larger, so does the gaping hole in your stomach. 
You close your eyes, slumping in defeat.
"What do you want?" You plead. 
You can feel her lips press on your cheek. Victory.
When you walk through the door, Zoe looks elated. 
She calls your name with a delighted giggle, reaching out to hug you. You wish you could return her enthusiasm, but you can barely pat her head. 
"What're you doing here?" She asks when she's done hugging you, looking up at you with pretty eyes. Her eyes are much like her mother's; they just haven't lost their innocence yet. 
Neuman steps in, a strong hand on your shoulder. That same gentle smile that holds the comfort a mother has for her daughter. 
"Gas leak, right?" She turns to look at you. "Real nasty. So, I offered our home for a little while." 
Zoe nods. She's the only thing so far that's remained stagnant. Maybe that's why you're more than eager to listen to what she did at school that day. She rambles on and on, and there's nothing left to say anymore. Until Victoria sends her daughter to bed. 
"It's probably best to keep the real reason hush-hush," she tells you later, shutting the master bedroom. 
You're seated pliantly on the bed, watching her shrug off her cardigan. The mattress sinks underneath your weight. Silk covers. It's too big for just one person. 
You're not a captive, she explained in the back of her fancy black car. You could roam around, meet up with friends, call people, do whatever your heart desired. It would just be under her eyes from now on. 
"A safeguard." She charitably explained, perfectly manicured fingernails drumming on her thigh. "Just so you don't do something we both might regret." 
You don't know if she'd been telling the truth when she insisted your head was off-limits, but you knew she had your family's names and addresses. So you sat pliantly in that car, pliantly listened to Zoe, and pliantly followed Victoria into her bedroom. 
On paper, you weren't a captive. But you and Victoria both knew better. 
"Is Zoe also...?" You trail off, averting your eyes when she unbuttons her blouse. You can hear her clothes drop to the floor as she unabashedly rifles through her drawer. 
"No," Victoria answers. And then your heart drops when she adds. "Not yet." 
You shudder, but she's already sitting next to you. She coaxes you to look at her with a hand on your cheek. Even dressed down, she's gorgeous. Unblemished skin was barely covered by a silk gown. 
You think she looks just as upset as you. Maybe even more. She pets your cheek thoughtlessly. 
"When I brought you to my bed for the first time, I thought things would be different, somehow." She laughs. It sounds bitter. 
"I never wanted this. Not for us," Victoria says, "but-but there's nothing else I can do. It...." 
A tear drips down your face. She's pushing it away. 
'You'll be okay." A kiss to your temple. "I know you will." Lips at your cheek. 
When she finally gives into her inhibitions and kisses you, you know she was lying about it all. 
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norrizzandpia · 1 year ago
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can we get pt 2 of 34+35 where yn releases nonsense or positions, everyone is more confused because are we talking about the same guy?? in response all yn does is mention his thighs 💀💀
YES MAAM OFC I LOVE THIS STORYLINE
WHO IS OSCAR PIASTRI? (OP81)
Summary: Oscar and Y/n always loved to mess with the fans. Fortunately, the best way to do that is spill their sex life.
Warnings: sexual conversations, language
Note: THE THIGHS 😫😫😫😫😫 SO MANY WORDS NOT ENOUGH TIME 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻
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ynnn Nonsense out now! 💋
Comments:
osc81fan I- WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
piaosc ARE WE SURE ALL OF US ARE TALKING ABT THE CORRECT MAN?
- mclarenpiaandlan YEAH WTF HOW IS THIS OSCAR
mclarensgirlll SHE DID THIS LAST TIME AND WE NEVER RECOVERED
- landonorris ILL NEVER RECOVER.
oscarpiastri ITS ABOUT MEEEEEEEE 🤭🤭
- danielricciardo we are aware.
- maxverstappen i think youve said that enough
- charlesleclerc YOURE SUPPOSED TO BE LITTLE OSCAR 😰😰😰
- ynnn definitely not LITTLE oscar 😏
- alexalbon STOP.
——
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ynnn maybe i lied? Lookin’ at him doesn’t have me thinkin’ nonsense, it has me thinkin…
Comments:
oscarpiastri my girlfriend everyone 😀
- mclarensgirlll hes probably giggling at his phone at this very moment
- landonorris and youd be right!
maxverstappen IM SO SCARED FOR MY LIFE
- danielricciardo WE CANT ESCAPE IT
- alexalbon HE PLAYS THE SONGS EVERYWHERE
- landonorris IT NEVER ENDS.
ln4andop81 anyone else curious abt what shes going to say on that podcast next week where theyre infamous for asking abt sex????
- oscpastry i bet you oscar will forever be changed for us
- mclarensgirlll he already is 🥲
——
TWITTER
ln4andop81 IN HONOR OF 24 HOURS BEFORE Y/NS PODCAST EPISODE, DROP THE MOST SHOCKING LYRICS FROM NONSENSE DOWN BELOW
- oscpastry “you said you like my eyes and you like the make em roll” SOOOO BASICALLY WHEN WERE THOSE WORDS FALLING FROM OUR BABY’S LIPS????
- mclarenpiaandlan REAL BECAUSE HOW DOES HE EVEN KNOW WHAT THAT IS 😭😭
- mclarensgirlll I THINK THE LYRIC “opposite of soft” LET US KNOW HE IS WAYYYY MORE EXPERIENCED THAN WE THOUGHT
- piaosc DOM OSCAR????? FUCKING HOW. IN. WHAT. WORLD.
- ynnn this world! 💋
- piaosc IS THIS SOME SORT OF GAME???
- mclarenpiaandlan THE PATTERN IS PATTERNING
- mclarensgirlll ITS SO ICONIC MY BRAIN CANT HANDLE IT
——
TWITTER
ln4andop81 hows everyone doing after that podcast….
- mclarensgirlll “WHO IS OSCAR PIASTRI?” trending on twitter makes me feel less alone after listening to Y/n’s tell all
- mclarenpiaandlan host: “whats your favorite body part of oscar’s?” Y/n: “his thighs” BY THEN I ALREADY KNEW WHAT WAS COMING BUT THE HOST HAD TO KEEP GOING host: *giggling* “why?” Y/n: “10 out of 10 for riding” I THINK MY BRAIN WENT DEAD FOR A SEC
- piaosc GIRLY KEPT GOING TOO host: “did you ask or, like, how did that come about?” Y/n: “well, he was just kind of sitting there, manspread ya know, and he caught on the minute he saw the way i was looking at him. Ive never see him so excited before.” *laughing* “i think he enjoys it more than me!”
- ln4andop81 no words. Host: “so he knows you like his thighs?” Y/n: “Oh my god, yeah! I hate him for it but he purposefully wears his shortest pair of shorts around the house so when he sits, that’s all I see. I’m telling you, Oscar knows how much I love his body and he knows EXACTLY how to use it.” Host: “what do you mean?” Y/n: “just that the shirtless photo i posted of him is one of many and the rest of them could not be up on the internet for longer than 5 seconds before being taken down because they’re borderline all pornographic” OSCAR???? BABY BOY??? WHO ARE YOU.
- mclarensgirlll BRO AND THEN host: “your new song, Nonsense, mentions things being more rough than soft. Is that really true with him?” Y/n: “Are you kidding?! The fans who think he’s super innocent and pure are in for some serious whiplash when i say that he is anything but that. He’s not Oscar when we’re in bed. He’s some alter ego who has no problem fucking against a random wall.” UHHHHHHHHHHH RUE WHEN WAS THIS????
- oscarpiastri now THAT is one thing i wont be answering 😊
- ynnn knowing myself ill probably reveal it in some song in the future 🤦🏼‍♀️
- mclaren maybe try and hold off on that one plz bestie 😙
- landonorris ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^🙏🏻
- danielricciardo ^^
- alexalbon ^^^
- maxverstappen ^
- charlesleclerc ^^^^
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jesuistrestriste · 7 months ago
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*NSFW drabble/thirst*
cw (18+): sub!art donaldson, sub!patrick zweig, gn dom!reader, dry humping (basically frottage), begging, orgasm denial/orgasm control, praise, desperation*, patrick is yearning, bossing the boys around + talking them through it <3
i can’t stop thinking about gently easing art donaldson and patrick zweig into submissive headspaces and then, as soon as they’re anticipating (needing) your touch, you tell them that the only way that they’re gonna be allowed to get relief is if they grind against each other <3
and the last thing they want to do is disappoint you, so they do it. and they love it.
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art is whining and letting out pathetic moans as he bucks his hips up against patrick on top of him, wanting so desperately to get him as close as he is.
and patrick is moaning and trembling with pinched-up brows as he rocks down against art’s body and tries to chase a high that’s so close but just out of reach (the fabric of both of their boxers between them is too much to be able to feel everything properly!)
so you just look down at them and smile sweetly.
“Art, you seem like you’re closer than Patrick is.. is this true?” you whisper lowly.
“P-Probably.. oh god.. i’m so—i’m really close,” he squirms, “please, i’m so close…!”
You move your gaze to Patrick.
“you think Art is closer than you are right now?” you say to the brunette.
“yeah,” he pants, “y-yeah, he’s closer.. but i’m nearly there too.. just a little more..”
You shift your gaze back to Art’s and run a hand through his mess of blonde curls.
“Art, why don’t you go ahead and get Patrick there first, ok?” you speak firmly but gently.
“okay, i will,” he moans, “ill get him there first—“
He aggressively starts to smush his pelvis rhythmically up against patrick’s, his body writhing on the bedsheets below as he secretly begs for patrick to be ready to cum soon so he can stop feeling the hot ache that’s spreading all over..
“good boy. don’t cum until Patrick is cumming too.”
art nods.
patrick keens.
you chuckle and move to slide your hand from art’s hair to gently caress the length of patrick's back. art's back arches up from the mattress, and you shift your gaze back and forth between the two young men as patrick furiously meets art’s movements with his own.
“feel how desperate Art is to get you as close as he is? how desperate he is to finish with you?” you whisper.
patrick swallows thickly and nods, his eyes squeezed shut as the pleasurable warmth of his oncoming release starts to prickle in..
“i can feel it.. god, i wanna cum so badly,” he whispers shakily.
“Are you there right now?”
patrick’s eyes open briefly so he can nod at you before they flutter shut again and his hips jolt down over art’s stuttering form.
“i’m so close.. i need more from Art..”
“tell him.”
“Push harder against me… Harder… I need more pressure… I need you more against me…” patrick babbles and breathes out desperately into the neck of his counterpart.
the obedient blonde nods frantically and instantly shifts to push even more of himself up against his best friend’s body.
“good boy for using your words, patrick.. and art, you’re doing so well too.. just a bit longer.. patrick is nearly there,” you say softly to the two in front of you
after a few short moments of this depraved, needy humping, patrick lets out a loud moan and bites down on his bottom lip.
“God, Art, please,” he whispers, so close to the edge now that he can barely keep himself held up on his forearms. his hands are absolutely shaking.
“did you hear Patrick?” you coo with a slight smirk.
art can do nothing but gasp for air as he nods for a moment or two.
“i’m pushing as hard as i can..” he gulps and whines, tears pricking at his eyes as he assumes that patrick is asking for more pressure and ferocity from him.
“i know, baby.. just ask Patrick if he’s ready to cum,” you guide him.
art murmurs out a whimpery “mhm” before he squeezes patrick’s biceps in his hands and looks up into his eyes.
“Hngh.. Are you ready to cum?” he asks quickly and eagerly, his voice tinged with lewd desperation.
“God, yes! Please! Ahh-!” patrick shouts.
the two tremble and sweat, their bare chests rubbing against one another's as they grind their bodies as hard and as fast as they possibly can. art is desperately pawing at patrick's back now, and patrick has both of his hands gripping the small of art's back as they both release a string of loud, needy moans. even though there are thin layers of fabric preventing the two men from feeling each other skin-to-skin, both of them are equally hyperaware of the sensation of their clothed erections sliding and slotting up against each other's. It's heaven. it’s better than heaven. and it's been a long time coming.
you lean back, just enough to make sure that you can get a good view, and then you give in and say the magic words that they’ve both been waiting to hear all night:
“go on, boys.. you can finish.”
art's eyes snap open, while patrick's squeeze shut, and you watch closely as art's baby blues roll all the way to the back of his head. his jaw slacks and his hips arch up and shudder harshly against his friend's.
"I'm cumm--! AH! ANGHH-!" the blonde cries out, cutting his own warning off with the sound of his pleasure as he spills a warm, heavy load into his boxer briefs, "cumming so hard--!"
patrick's abdomen involuntarily curls in over itself as he humps art's bucking body with the shaky anguish of a man in a desert who's just found his first source of water in two days. in other words, he needs this. he needs him.
"Fuck! Fu-uuck! I'm cumming -- AH-! Hah, haah--!" patrick sobs, his fingers digging into arts soft, toned flesh as the heat of his sticky release floods his boxer shorts, "Art!"
The involuntary calling-out of his best friend's name surprises not only both you and the best friend in question, but also patrick. he didn't mean to, but when he felt the warmth of art's release seep out and stick to his thighs, he couldn't hold it anymore.
you're completely entranced by the obedience and sheer obscenity of the two trembling bodies in front of you, so you're unsure if they've been cumming for two minutes or two hours, but it doesn't really matter. they're gorgeously good listeners, and even better submissives. you'd definitely play with them again, as long as they were up for it. and you knew they would be.
you watch as patrick collapses on top of art in a flushed, limp heap, holding him close as both of their bodies tremble and jerk softly every so often with the aftershocks of their orgasms.
they're both pleasantly surprised when they each feel one of your hands carding your fingers through their heads of hair. their eyes are closed, and they can hardly breathe as they pant, but they are aware of this act of kindness from you. they'll take anything you give them. both of them practically start to purr.
"Breathe, boys, breathe.." you whisper lowly, stroking a soft hand over each head of messy locks.
they do as they're told, trying their best to take deep, slow breaths in and out as the fuzziness in their brains starts to dissipate as the seconds go by.
"Felt good?"
art nods slowly but insistently, while patrick mumbles out a slurred confirmation.
"it felt amazing."
"God, it was really.. that was really good..." art sucks his bottom lip in between his teeth, his arms still limply draped over patrick's shoulders.
you nod, removing your touch from them to press a kiss to the nape of patrick's neck and then a kiss to art's forehead.
"I'm gonna take care of you guys now, ok?"
they nod and grunt softly, but make no attempt to sit up or pry themselves off of each other. this was going to be a long night.
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notes; heyyy hehe. just wanted to write up a quick little drabble while i'm working on the two longer fics, and i NEEDED to get sub!art + sub!patrick out of my head. they were rotting in there. ps. srry this probs isn’t my best work, i started writing it at like 4 am last night lmao.
also i love writing orgasm denial and then making the reader just be like
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dividers from: @benkeibear
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elliespassagerprincess · 3 months ago
Note
super confident!ellie x really bold and forward reader at a party and they’re both just bored and the more ellie talks to reader the more shes stumbling over her words by how quickly she responds to ellie’s lines and ellie knows she’s fucked bc she cant stop thinking about the girl that she fucked at the party yayyyyy
Rose - (ellie williams x reader)
hi anon! i had so many ideas for this, i might make a part 2 because yes or ill make a different version ughhhh...i hope you enjoy it<3
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Pairing: ellie x fem!reader
requests are open! send me your silly thoughts
warnings: sexual themes
Summary: in which she cant forget you
authors note: i submitted my application, lets see if i get accepted because i will lose my mind if i don't
masterlist
The smell of weed was the first thing that reached Ellie's nose when she walked into the house.
Mid term exams has had her stressed and she's barley been out. Whoever said college would be easy, lied because she's never been this stressed.
She needed to blow off some steam and what better way is there than to get blackout out drunk and to fuck a random girl she'll never talk to again.
It was too early in the night to make a move. She need to wait for the straight girls to get drunk, and for the overly emotional girls to come her way.
She sat on a couch scanning the room. So many victims, so many options.
Who will be the lucky girl tonight?
"You know its gross to eye fuck innocent people?" she heard a voice talk next to her.
A small frown appeared on Ellie's face when she turned to you.
Holy shit, who are you?
Her eyes scanned your body.... fuck
Maybe you'd be the lucky one
You noticed her staring and you rolled your eyes before saying: "Take your pervert eyes off me"
Oh you were feisty.
Ellie never had a problem with women. Most of them threw themselves at her, all she needed to do was say a few words and give them a small smile and they'd be moaning her name minutes later.
She was confident that she'll get you too. She just needed to pull out all the stops when it came to you.
Ellie chuckled at your comment "I'm not a pervert, I'm just checking to make sure you don't have a weapon on you?" she joked.
"What weapon? My strap on?" You snorted.
oh.
Ellie wasn't expecting that.
"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" you teased at her sudden silence.
Ellie shook her head quickly gaining her composure.
"Has anyone ever told you that you were pretty?" She quickly tried changing the subject.
You hummed "quite a few... has anyone ever told you that you suck at flirting?"
Now this made her jaw drop.
You didn't giggle like she expected, you didn't give her a shy smile.
What the fuck is happening?
"You're boring" you state, you got up and left.
You left the Ellie Williams speechless.
The longer the night went on the more her mind drifted to you. Her mission of finding someone to fuck ended as soon as you came into the picture.
She wanted you. She was on a mission to find you. But between all the people grinding up against each other she thought that would be impossible.
"Hey there loser" she heard your voice she immediately turned to you.
"h-hey" did she just fucking stutter?
"Did you find someone to fuck yet?" you asked she shook her head.
"Maybe we can..." Ellie went silent, too shy to finish her sentence.
She made two scissors with her hands and she made a scissoring motion "you k-know.... me and you"
You laugh at her. You fucking laugh at her.
"Don't be pathetic, use your words"
Ellie felt humiliated. Why were you telling her what to do? Normally she was the one giving orders. Ellie decided that its time to switch roles. She wanted to be in charge.
"Well lets go to the bathroom and ill show you what i can do"
"so you're saying im some kind of cheap fuck?"
"N-no i mean... i meant like-"
"see fucking pathetic"
Ellie was sweating, her cheeks were tinted in a dark shade of pink.
What were you doing to her?
You gently took her hand "show me where your dorm is" was all you said.
The rest was a blur to her.
Lips passionately touching each other, clothes flying off, your fingers in her. A tiny rose tattoo on your left shoulder. She's never cum so hard in her life.
After tonight she knew you fucked her over.
No one had made her this nervous, no one has ever made her finish this hard, no one had ever made her this submissive.
Who are you?
Ellie groaned when she heard her alarm go off. She rolled over to the side of the bed you were laying on, but you weren't there.
She opened her eyes to a cold empty bed.
"Fuck" she sighed.
She never got your name, she doesn't have your number, she doesn't know anything about you.
The memory of you on top of her, you moaning was all she could think about.
Fuck, how she just forget that? How could she forget you?
The only thing she remembered was the rose tattoo on your left shoulder.
"Fuck rose who are you?"
<3
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verdantlights · 1 month ago
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Thoughts/Analysis Part 2 (but its coherent)
OKay so i slept (finally) after staying up since wednesday morning and only getting roughly 5 hours of sleep in total?? until I finally managed to get decent hours of sleep last night. anyways. i am still not normal in the slightest over round 7 but i have many more thoughts, am a lot more coherent, and have had it swimming in my head for a while.
TW for mentions of drug use. I'm gonna start with Luka. I've stated in the edit I made of the original post as well as in a few reblogs, but Luka is a victim. A lot of people are Luka haters, and that's valid! I am also, to an extent, a Luka hater.... even if I have a thing for blonde twinks with issues. But his character is also incredibly interesting. If you are familiar with Honkai: Star Rail, then you might understand what I'm saying when I think Luka is a combination of both Sunday AND Robin. He has the trapped bird in a cage mentality from Robin with the need for order and control mentality from Sunday. Order and control referring to winning being the only thing keeping his sanity in check.
Luka, as a human pet, is aware that he is playing a losing game. He needs to win, but he knows that winning Season 50 is not the end. He may have won against Till, but now the segyein are going to put him against Hyuna, considering Hyuna and Mizi were referred to as special guests. The way he looked at Hyuna in that last scene was part of him realizing this. It's the face you pull when you realize something horrible, but you need to keep face/keep your composure.
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Their ear pieces are similar to their collars in that they show the emotions of the wearer. We can clearly see Till's earpiece glowing red the entire time (up until Mizi appears), and Luka's is constantly glowing green. Luka was seen in hysterics pretty much the entire time like the one frame where he's holding in his laughter.
Luka was drugged on something that makes him euphoric and lose his sense of control, like weed or cocaine. He found fucking with Till to be the funniest thing ever, but it's not normal for Luka to be so outwardly expressive of his elation. We know he enjoyed fucking with Mizi, even if it let to getting his ass beat, but even then, he wasn't as expressive then as he was with Till. That leads me to believe that he has something in his system to heighten his emotional output as well as some sort of adrenaline drug like what Till was most likely given.
What bugs me is that they don't show us what color his earpiece is as he looks at Hyuna. We see Till's earpiece turn green at Mizi, but does Luka's stay green as he looks at Hyuna? I feel it was orange, but that's just me.
Luka now knows what's about to happen, which is also why Hyuna tries to stop Mizi. Hyuna knew the whole time that if they were to save Till, they'd be walking straight into the trap. Mizi's heart is too kind and she's desperate to save Till.
Thankfully, what Hyuna had gone there for originally seems to be completed. Whatever files she was downloading was complete before she went after Mizi, and I think that's where were gonna see Issac and Dewey again. I think she might've been uploading those files to them so that they can take the lead from there. This leads me to my prediction for the next episode. (ill get to till last, hes my little meow meow and im not normal about him)
I don't think Blink Gone is done. I believe there is a part two to the Finals, and that round 7 wasn't even the final round. I've already stated that the most likely thing to happen next is Luka v Hyuna, but then I also talked about Issac and Dewey.
Hyuna could have gotten her hands on high profile data regarding Alien Stage. She sends the data to Dewssac, and they shut down the stage from the inside, allowing the resistance to come in and do a massive sweep, hopefully before either Hyuna, Luka, or Mizi dies.
Now, as for Mizi. We know Mizi is the main character, and there are people who are saying Till's death boosts her hero arc. Now there are two ways I see this happening, either:
Vivinos keeps up their streak of tragedy and kills off everyone, leaving Mizi isolated entirely.
Or someone (dewssac, hyuna, mizi, maybe even luka) pull through and live to save more people.
If it's the first one, Till is dead dead. If the second, Till has a chance at being alive.
There are many reasons why Till is most likely alive, and as a hopeful feeler... I also am clinging onto the more hopeful ending (the second option). Not just because "Haha guys I need Till to be alive, he's my bias" but also because seeing Mizi completely isolated and forced to fake a smile and perform would absolutely fucking destroy me and I don't think I'd ever be the same after that, honestly. Like that genuinely scares me.
There's the narrative of ALNST and vivimeng's beautiful storytelling. That is my number one hopeful reasoning for Till being alive. If Till dies here, it would be utterly nonsensical and it would ruin the narrative. It would completely void all of Ivan's character, for starters. I was just talking about this with @rockwgooglyeyes and Vant (idt they wanna be tagged here), but Ivan's character is static. He is not dynamic or fluid, but he is extraordinarily complex which makes up for it. He never really had an arc of his own unless you count what happened in his past during/before being bought by Unsha. His death is meant to haunt the narrative, meant to haunt Till. So why would he die, only for Till to die a few hours later? It would completely ruin what he was meant for and it would be so unsatisfying and bitter.
However, there's also the thematics of ALNST. Rock called out @pwippy for this already, but I'm gonna call them out too because fuck you plip (/j i love you plipster). Rock put it really well in these two excerpts I took from his post:
"Alien Stage is a universe full of suffering and pain for humans, forced to perform until they literally die on stage, all for the entertainment of the audience. It's not even meant as a way of exerting control or oppressing them, though it serves that purpose, because why would the seygein bother to oppress something that can't even fight back? Why go to the trouble of controlling something that is just a pet, whose cries are the fuel for a new age?"
Once again mentioning the Hunger Games because I genuinely can't help myself I love THG way too much, but that's the key difference between ALNST and THG: the human pets aren't being forced to do this because of a past rebellion and are being punished by the oppressing government... They're being thrown into this for fun. Full credit to @alien-til-i-stage who said this as a joke, but it is really fucking real, but the segyein bringing their human pets to watch ALNST in the audience are like people bringing dogs to a dog fight in real life. And that, I fear, puts into perspective as to just how much of a pet the humans are to the segyein. They are only there for entertainment. The resistance is mostly a thorn in their side as of right now (dewey and issac better change that next episode or istg) and killing these humans is simply just fun for them. They know humans can be hostile, just like dogs, but they tame them and make them docile and obedient, only to make them kill each other in the end, even if it's through a singing competition rather than an all out teeth and claws brawl. (except for round 5, that doesnt count)
"In this world of pain and suffering, perhaps death is a mercy. If Till is truly dead, then he no longer a tool for his oppressors, he is free of their control. For Ivan and Sua both of their deaths were mercies to them- Ivan was able to die for the one he loved, as was Sua, and neither of them were forced to live in a world without their beloved."
(thank you rock i love you pookie snookie)
He also mentions that it's not in character for Till to die, which I completely agree with. Till's persona is that of someone who wants to win, but not in the same way Luka needs to win. Till wants to win to live and survive with those he loves, he wants to win to beat the system, but considering how dystopian of a world this is, as much as he wants to win and save Mizi, he craves death as a freedom.
That out of the way, another thing that @junebluues actually got me to think about was this:
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The bomb has Till's eyes and is crying as it knows it's going to die (assuming it's a sentient alien like Freddie). And the comparison here honestly opened my eyes a little bit and got me thinking.
Was Till a catalyst? Because that was a smoke bomb. I ended up thinking about it for a minute and came up with three possibilities where Till is a bomb/smoke bomb:
Mizi is using Till to hide her feelings
Till is the bomb that sets off a chain of events
Till is used to hide/cover up the real plan for either the segyein or for the resistance
I don't think it's the first one, I feel like it'd be closer to the other two, but any three of those could work. Because Mizi's feelings of despair over her situation can be hidden behind the hope as she reached out for Till. But as the smoke clears (Till dies) she remembers that it was, in fact, a bomb.
EDIT: Also, the lyric that plays during the smoke bomb scene is "No, don't look back now" which also kinda leads me to believe that Till is the start of a chain/domino effect. Once you knock the first domino, you can't go back.
I think someone somewhere had also talked about Till being forced to be used as a catalyst/bait again considering how well it worked here. There's a good chance Urak might have supplied the drugs to Till and also paid out or WAS paid out by another person to use Till as bait. Urak wouldn't want his pet that he is grossly possessive over to die that easily without every ounce of use being wrung out of him,,, something something Till being a Trojan Horse of sorts (thanks rock for that one, too).
EDIT: I also remembered that during the sequence in the song where the audience is singing the chorus and we see Ivan on the screens, is when Till looks like he's about to pass out. What gets me here is the fact that it is quite literally a chorus of vultures. The audience singing the chorus with images of Ivan surrounding him and seeing Luka mimic Ivan made Till realize that he was surrounded and that's when he started losing hope. It's why his reaction to Mizi is so prominent, because it's like she was there to save him from the vultures. The audience singing is my favorite and also least favorite part of the video/song because the feeling of being surrounded and cornered with everyone against you and their voices echoing in your head... really does it for me. I really want to animate this sequence from up close in Till's POV.
Anyways the 4th reason i had for the bomb theory was that Till is smoking hot (sorry). okay im done now i think,,,,,, i might actually come back with more because i think i forgot something... but i cant remember..... i forgor.....
other tags: @shakingparadigm @aakaneeee @ivanttakethis @k9punkout @crustyfloor @apriciticreveries @bluemoonscape @tsukacchako @nottoonedin @paperstarry
side note that i genuinely put more effort into my analyses than i have ever put into any school essay ever
edit: FUCK I WAS SUPPOSED TO ANALYZE THE LYRICS AGAIN GOD DAMNIT i dont feel like doing that anymore ill just do it later maybe
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ggsbooks123 · 1 year ago
Text
Memory Garden
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peeta mellark x female mc (Jude Slone)
summary; you made haymitch promise, if it came down to you or Peeta that he’d save Peeta. And he did. But now you’re back from the Capitol with one thing certain, Peeta Mellark is the one true enemy.
warnings: angst angst angst, mean thoughts ab peeta beloved and honestly just a lot of writing i didn’t need to do
———
Peeta did this.
The mantra floated through my head, as I yanked on the restraint again.
He’s the reason everyone you love is against you.
Another yank.
He blew up District 12
���Jude, feeling hungry yet?” Haymitch’s voice breaks the static but the mantra just quietens but doesn’t stop. My hand drops the bind.
“What do you have?” It was a better response than i’d given lately. What if Peeta tried to kill me and poisoned my portion… I couldn’t risk it. “No, I don’t want it”
He sighs, still coming towards me with the tray “I promise you, Peeta doesn’t want you dead. You know that, think”
I scowled, “I know what I saw. I know what he did. He’s a monster, Haymitch. Don’t make me, I dont want his filthy blood on my hands” He scoffed, dropping the tray onto the table next to me.
“Let’s hope lover boy comes and feeds you bevause I’m not putting up with this” And with that he leaves the room.
I glanced at the tray, tomato soup with toast coated in possibly cheese, but it’s not the delicious toast that catches my eye, the soup, it’s not red. They’ve added ingredients to make it appear more orange… Not bright orange.
A sunset.
“I still remember that Christmas he brought me that green sweater. Green doesn’t suit me” I say, the air was brisk and I hated walking in the Winter but I couldn’t turn Peeta down when he came to my door.
“I refuse to believe you look bad in anything” I scoff, glad it’s cold knowing he might take that as thhe reason my cheeks are now red. “What is your favourite colour?”
I raise my eyebrow at him “I’m sure there are better things to talk about then my favourite colour”
He watches me as we walk for a moment “I don’t see anything more important” It makes me slow to a stop, “Tell me, please. I want to know”
I look to him, his kind blue eyes and blond hair that looks incredibly soft without all those products they use during interviews, he looks beautiful.
“It used to be red but I think i’m leaning towards purple” I shrug, “It’s only fair that i’ve revealed that secret you tell me yours”
He smiles before looking up at the sun, it’s setting letting the streaks of orange paint the sky “Orange, right there. It’s the second most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen” I glance at him unsure as to why he’d say second until I see the look in his eyes.
My head snaps at the memory, cruel and unforgiving. That’s what Peeta was, and he would hurt me so I had to kill him before he tried first.
His face twists in the memory as I replay it over and over again, he doesn’t look like himself, Hatred flared in a moment that was full of pure adoration. I see it now like i’m looking through a camera at the two of us.
He looks like he loves me… Then his eyes lose their spark like a snap and he’s spitting awful words at me, one’s ill never forget.
I’ll never forget he’s the reason i’m like this.
The food goes cold and I go another day without eating and under sedation after I nearly come out of binding when they try to insert the needle into my arm to get food into my body.
I awake in an empty room but there’s a buzz in the air, I look to the mirror across from me. I look better than I did the first time I looked inside, I’d look better if I ate proper food but I can’t, he wants me dead and he won’t fail again.
The door hisses open bringing my attention away from my strangely hair, Katniss stands at the door, tears in her eyes.
“You need to eat something” She whispers but the room is so quiet i’m not surprised if she can hear my blaring thoughts or the alarm going off in my head.
“Get out” I spit, turning away from her. Katniss was close to Peeta, never too close for respect of me which I hated now, she should have stopped whatever was forming between the two of us. Now it’s this. “I don’t want to see you.”
“It’s been months, I thought-“ She tries to speak but she stops when my head snaps to her aswell, her eyes are searching my face. I still look awful, I know that and it seems she still hasn’t come to terms with what I had gone through. Why don’t they see it’s his fault? Always.
“He’s the reason this happened to me, Katniss. And you’re still going to side with him. If you don’t kill him then he’ll kill me Katniss, Don’t you see!” I scream, her back hits the door and it hisses open and my heart stops.
There, he is. He’s not expecting the door to open, the surprise on his face is evident as those blue eyes bore into mine and I steel myself preparing for the hatred, his attempts to end my life.
But neither happen, he watches me with nothing but sadness and his hands are empty, just slack at his sides as he takes a step forward and I’m frozen, It’s not making sense.
He keeps coming closer and my heart is beating out my chest. Run! He’s going to kill you! My head screams but he doesn’t look like he will kill me, he looks like he wants to be next to me and holding me through this, possibly the one feeding me the tomato soup like Haymitch suggested.
“Jude… Please, I’d never-“ He seems to choke on his words as a tear slips down his cheek “Come back to me” Come back and trust me so I can kill you, I hear instead. The words make me flinch, the movement is so large the whole bed moves with me, screeching.
He backs away, the door hisses open again but he doesn’t move to get out “You’re just here to kill me!” I cried, wishing him out of the room.
Get out. Get out. Get out!!!
I must’ve screamed the last time because he’s gone and finally the screaming in my head stops and I fall to the bed, the thought of food or anything fades, only the want to be far from him stays.
I am Jude Slone, I won the 73rd hunger games, i’m from District Twelve and Peeta Mellark does not want me dead.
I repeat in my head over and over again, as the truck rolls over cracks and bumps, my body jumps at each bit of debris we hit and I hit the metal seat hard each time but the pain is real. Which is hard to say about a lot lately.
Peeta Mellark wants doesn’t want you dead.
I shake my head, thst one was the hardest to remember and at times, it was no where reachable and all that would sustain me in that moment would be his blood on my hands.
Finally the truck pulled to a stop, I straightened my shoulders. I’d been taken by the Capital and my memories have been distorted, my first thought may not always be the right one.
With that final word of encouragement I let the anxiety slip from me as the back door opens and I’m led out. The sun blinds me for a moment, I’d only seen it for a moment when they made me leave base but only to be stuffed back in the van.
Now I could see the destruction. His fault. No, no, no. I took a deep breath, before turning to seeing the loving welcome party at the front of what seemed to be an abandoned building.
Katniss with her bow, Gale with his crossbow and the five members of their squad had their guns trained on me, including Peeta. My heart hammered but I kept upright as I took the empty gun from the guard before waltzing my way towards the group.
I am Jude Slone, I won the 73rd Hunger Games, I am from Distrisct 12 and None of these people want me dead.
“What is she doing here?” Katniss is the first to speak and though her eyes are trained on me, i know she doesn’t want me to answer.
“Coin wants her to be shown on screen, the victors fighting on the same side” A dark man, who screamed military spoke and he was the only one besides Finnick who hadn’t raised their gun at me. “I don’t like the gun”
“Cant have me fighting with my bare hands on screen” I mutter, before shaking the weapon “It’s empty”
The tension seemed to ease slightly in the group but while half of them had lowered their weapons, Peeta, Katniss and Gale hadn’t. I had to remember what I’d been like this past month, I wouldn’t trust me either.
“I don’t like this” Peeta. His words cut deep and I deflate at them before the military man waves everyone to come inside, not before a solider by the name of Jackson, she told me, quietly instructed me that i’d be restrained for their safety.
“I understand, but I’m not a child”
“No just someone who went through a lot of shit” Finnick says behind Jackson, and my eyes dart up. I didn’t know where my mind stood with Finnick, I didn’t feel like killing him but I hadn’t felt like killing Peeta a moment ago but we all knew it would come.
It was why I was being restrained in the first place. I nod at his words, unsure of how to respond before they lead me inside. The wall along the door was made of glass and I watched as the van that stopped me off, vanished in the distance.
I was stuck here and I didn’t know if I would ever leave this ruin of a city. I kept my distance from the group as they moved into the centre and I took a seat beside the window.
“We’ll have to set up an around the clock guard on her, we can take shifts” Military man said, turning to look at me. “I’ll take the first shift, Names Boggs.”
I preferred Military man but I nodded all the same, “I want a shift” Peeta’s voice is small compared to Boggs but it silences the room all the same.
“Not happening” Jackson speaks up this time, confusing me on who’s in command.
“I can do it!” Peeta argued back, standing from his seat “It’s not her… The Capital killed her and whoever they sent back to us, i’ll be happy to put a bullet in its head” I flinched, turning my eyes down to my hands. Clenching them, was I dead? The girl I was? I shake my head, I am Jude Slone and I did not die in the Capital. They broke me but I am not unfixable. I am broken not unfixable.
I am unfixable.
“I’m not sure seeing as a mutt helps” Jackson declares but Boggs cuts her off
“Give him a shift, Katniss too.” There was no room for argument as Jackson nodded and began to schedule the guard clock. I wanted to be more helpful, tell them that maybe they could go an hour and they could all rest, but I didn’t even trust myself to do that.
Instead I kept silent, letting the rest of them discuss our plan while I watched the day pass by through the glass. “How’re you feeling?” Finnick’s voice from beside me makes me jump. I turn to him and he looks almost glowing, I’d heard something about him and Annie.
I knew I would feel happy for him if I didn’t feel so disconnected. Finnicks memories that came to mind now only brought warmth, nothing haunting. Which was relieving, he was a breath of fresh air.
“Away, I feel like everything’s happening and I’m not really here” I try to explain and he seems to understand. “I don’t want to be a problem, I don’t know why they sent me here… I’m not ready.”
He frowns, “I think you’re where you need to be, normally whenver Annie gets confused she asks me, and I promise you, you’ll find nothing but the truth here” I glance over to the group who had begun to seperate and close their eyes.
It must be Finnicks shift. The thought made this whole encounter turn cold but still, I took in his words as my eyes trained on the baker boy. “Peeta was the reason this happened to me… Real?”
He shakes his head, “You made Haymitch swear if it came down to the two of you that he’d get Peeta to safety” Finnick explained but my mind screamed at me that he was lying. Why would I ask that? Peeta and I didn’t get along, no, we did and we’d almost- I didn’t know what we almost did or if he hated me or loved me and it made me want to rip my hair out as my thoughts banged against my head.
He was not the reason you went to the Capital, you chose this. You didn’t want him to go through this… That felt right, staring at him now, I would never wish upon him those nights in the Capital.
“I know it must be hard. Annie went through a lot but they know that the Capital never left you alone, you were their main priority.” Finnick places a hand on my shoulder, bringing my fully to the present for what felt like the first time. “None of us blame you at all for what happened.
I forgot how long it’s been since someone had been gentle with me. Skin to skin, human contact. My body released its pressure, relaxing in my seat. “Thank you, Finnick”
He smiled before sitting up straighter, and we together sat in silence watching the night sky slowly fall upon us as the rest that were awake finally knocked off
“Get some rest” Finnick muttered to me softly, tapping my leg as he got up. I could see his eyes dropping a while ago but he still stayed and it relieved me that he was finally putting himself first.
I nodded, I would not be sleeping tonight. Each time I closed my eyes another memory would wash over me, I’ve started to get better at knowing if it’s real or not without verification.
Like the one of Peeta and Is confession of our favourite colours, it was easier to picture him smiling at me now instead of anger and whenever it did dissolve to the image it was almost too perfect, his freckles gone and the scar he got from the 75th games vanished, as did the dark circles under my eyes and the few strands out of place were perfectly flat. Too perfect.
I watched Finnick rouse Peeta and point over to me. Of course, I could only get so lucky. I heard someone clear their throat before they took a seat across from me. I didn’t look up. I didn’t know where my mind would jump to.
And he seemed to take the message, he didn’t try to speak to me either. She asks me. I promise you’ll find nothing but truth here.
Finnick was right, I couldn’t close myself off and hope I’d be able to fix myself. If it was that easy, I’d be normal again. “Finnick told me that whenever i’m having trouble differentiating real from not real I should just ask…”
I glanced up at him, in the darkness it was hard to make out his uniform but his blonde hair and pale skin were easy to spot and it made my body tingle as I registered just how close he was and I didn’t feel like wringing my hands around his neck. Relief.
“Shoot away” I raised an eyebrow “Not literally” I smiled softly at that before cycling through my head and I settled back into his favourite colour. What if I asked and his favourite was blue or something? Sunset orange was just another lie they filled into my head. Ask.
“Your favourite colour. It’s sunset orange, real? Not real?” I clench my fists, please. please.
“Real… Yours used to be red but after the hunger games you couldn’t stand it” He explained, and he was right. I used to tie a red bow into my hair everyday until my reaping now the colour reminded me of the slaughter in the 73rd Hunger games.
“But you said you were beginning to like purple… I remember that day, I told you the sunset was the second most beautiful thing i’d ever seen… And the first was right in front of me” I stiffened, though the confession didn’t shock me, looking back I could’ve seen it if I looked hard enough in the moment “And it’s killing me, bevause you’re right in front of me again but you’re like the stars I can’t reach. I… Can adore you from afar but that’s all I can do. And it feels really, really shitty, knowing we might never get through this”
He stands abruptly from his seat “I can’t do this” And he storms out, but I’m clenching my fists too tight to stop, swearing at every god to let this memory stay and not be corrupted by fear. I can adore you from afar but that’s all I can do because if I came closer you’d kill me. Was the truth.
— — —
do we want a part two?!?
part two out now!
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luveline · 10 months ago
Note
Hi jade if you’re doing requests I’d love to see how prince Steve and his soulmate are doing after the wedding
prince!steve soulmate au —you’re sick from stress and Steve's adoring as always. fem, 1k
“Hello.” 
You nod dazedly from your bed. “Hello, husband.” 
Steve leans on the door, a bouquet against his chest. “Are you feeling any better? At all?” 
“Yeah.” You’re lying, but it doesn’t matter —your hoarse voice betrays you. You sound as sick as you had yesterday and the day before. It is putting a real dampener on the honeymoon. 
He puts his bouquet down on the dresser, the big white petals of its lilies drooping past the cellophane to kiss the drawers. You focus too much on that detail and startle when he sits on the bed. 
“You had everything you needed while I was gone?” he asks, hair falling into his eyes. 
You raise your hand, smiling softly as he leans forward, allowing you to fix it out of his eyes. He’s terrifying this close to you, absurdly pretty, absurdly yours, a golden ring on his finger and a furling white light turning pink braceleting his wrist. He’s very much the prince he was when you met, but now he is your prince, and that’s a strange thing to come to grips with, worse when you’re so achingly sick. 
“Hey?” he prompts. “You have everything?” 
“The serfs won’t leave me alone,” you complain worriedly. It hasn’t been nice to have them coming in and out all day. “I try to sleep and they wake me up coming inside. Sorry, I’m not– I’m complaining, I’m–” You rub your headache. “I should be grateful–”
“You’re allowed to complain about that!” he says, grinning. “God, I want you to! I’ll tell them to stop coming in, I just thought you’d probably die in your sleep while I was gone.” 
You lean back into your pillows with a wince. “You sure?” 
“Am I sure?” He holds your arm with both of his hands. “I’ve just sent the maids in to harass you for six hours when you’re sick as a dog and you’re asking if you’re allowed to be mad.” He rubs your arm with his thumbs. “I’m sorry. Do you want to sleep now? I won’t let anybody come in.” 
“No, um,” —you clear your throat— “I did– I missed you. I want you to tell me about the meeting.” 
“Yeah?” he asks softly. 
You have the feeling you’re being doted on. “Did Robin go?” 
“Let me just set us up and I’ll tell you. Okay?” 
You nod your agreement. Steve kisses the back of your hand absentmindedly and stands.
He shuts the curtains to hide the sunshine, clears away the jargon of the holoscreen against the wall, and closes the door. The room is big and the mess you’ve made since you fell ill the night of your wedding is expansive, taking ages to clean. By the time he’s done all this, you’re dozing again with the blanket pulled up to your nose. 
“Sweetheart,” he says, climbing into bed beside you. A kiss is placed on the edge of your eyelid. “You can sleep. We’ll talk about things when you’re feeling better.” 
“No, please tell me about today,” you croak. 
“Nothing really happened,” he says, up on one elbow, looking down at you lovingly. “They asked me when we’d begin our tour now we’re married.” His voice grows softer as he leans down, eyes on your lips. “I’ve asked for it to be pushed back. So they’ll wait until we’re ready.” 
“Mm. And news from the west?” 
“None.” He holds your face. “Sorry, you’re distractingly pretty today.” 
“Stop it.” 
“You are,” he says. He sounds playfully smug, or maybe he’s not playing at all. His tone is wry all the same, that slight fry that might make you pop a knee if you weren’t already wed. “I’m sorry you got so sick. I knew the wedding was going to be too much for you. I should’ve looked after you better.” 
“You didn’t make me sick.” 
“But the stress made it worse. I know it did.” 
“You shouldn’t believe everything the head doctor says. She made you eat dandelions for depression.” 
“I know, I was there,” he says, smiling down at you, eyes like dark dimes. “But she also recommended more fencing, and that did make me feel better.” 
You turn your face to the side and curl a tentative arm around him. “Can I have a hug?” you ask, and then, when he’s given you an enthusiastic yes and pulled you onto his chest, “I can nearly forget I’m sick.” 
“I can’t. You sound full of it, sweetheart.” Sweetheart said soft and quiet as a secret. Like he’s sorry and adoring at once. 
“It’s in my face.” 
“We’ll go to the sauna together later and clear you out.” 
Together? In your skivvies? If the sickness doesn’t kill you, the sauna with Steve alone certainly will. “I can’t tell if you’re being mean to me on purpose.” 
“Why would I do that? I like you. An embarrassing amount, I–” He clears his throat. 
You’re not sure what he would have said, but you like him too; you dive in to save him. “You’re like that, Steven, you mess with me.” 
“No, don’t start the Steven stuff again, I like it much more when you call me Steve. Remember when we first met, you’d only call me your prince? And you definitely wouldn’t have let me hold you.” 
“Don’t say it like that,” you plead through a nervous laugh. 
“Am I saying something wrong?”
He’s murmuring, nearly flirting —is it flirting if you’re married?— his arms threaded around you, his hair tickling your cheek as he leans down. “Not wrong…” Your eyes widen as he closes in. 
“Would a kiss make you feel any better?” 
“I’ll make you sick.” 
“Shouldn’t you? I’ve vowed to be with you in anything, haven’t I? In sickness…”
You hold your breath as his fans over your lips. 
“Just one?” he whispers.
“As many as you want,” you whisper back. “Just don’t get mad at me if you’re sick next week, Steve.”
“Never.” 
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puck-bunnies · 10 months ago
Text
behind closed doors
umich!luke hughes x fem!reader
warnings: nsfw 18+, fingering, praising, choking, not proof read
word count: 2.3k
me and luke were never much of friends, never even talked much. at least, that’s what everyone thought. no one ever knows what happens behind closed doors.
i have not used this app in forever, meaning i haven’t written a fic in quite a long time so this is me trying to get back into writing. sorry if this is not great and a little rushed, i just haven’t written anything in like five months. anyways, try to enjoy this fic and ill try to write more as soon as i can.
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i sit in the living room of my best friends boyfriends house, she sits beside me as all of ethan’s roommates take up every other seat. the lightning vs islanders game plays on the tv, having all of our eyes glued to it.
the boys are in a constant state of yelling, wether is celebrating, yelling at how stupid the refs are, or booing the other team. i’m not as invested as usual, my teams aren’t playing, but ill never miss an opportunity to a hockey game.
my mind also focuses on the close proximity as luke sits beside me, our thighs lightly rubbing against each other ever so softly. the warm summer weather left me wearing shorts and a tank top, causing luke’s hand to glide across my bare skin as he secretly places his hand on my thigh.
i never intended on sneaking around with luke, it all just happened one day, the house was empty and quiet. we got to talking, venturing from subjects like our classes, plans for our future, and somehow turning into our sex life.
he learned that i’ve never really gotten quite what i need, never feeling that spark with any guy that i’ve been with. them never wanting to try anything i’ve wanted to, i’ve never been fully satisfied.
he continued to tell me how he has slept around quite a bit. nearly almost always leaving the rink with some new blonde puck bunny stuck to his arm. he didn’t wear it as a trophy, or say that he regretted any of it, all just saying it’s apart of his past. his history he can’t and won’t change.
one thing led to another, his hands roaming my body as my lips bit down on his. my hands squeezing the mattress tightly with every moan escaping my lips.
we didn’t even stop there, whenever we could find a time to be alone, we were tangled in each others arms.
here we are now, not even able to keep our hands to ourselves in sight of one another. i try to shake his hand off, not wanting any of the surrounding eyes to see his intimate gesture. he doesn’t move, squeezing my skin harder. i softly pierce my bottom lip with my teeth, try to calm my nerves. i can feel heat bubbling up to my face, painting my cheeks with a faint blush.
my eyes peer over to him, giving him a pleading look to start behaving. he doesn’t budge, giving me a side smirk before returning his eyes on the game.
rutger groans loudly as the 2nd period finishes, “fuck the lightning.” he swears as they’re pulling a 4-1 lead. he chugs back the rest of his beer, throwing the can on the ground in some grown man temper tantrum.
the ads run during the commercial break, leaving the rest of us to disregard the television for the time being. my heart starts to quicken, without their distraction of the game they’re eyes could fall upon luke’s hand on me.
my mind tries to work fast, but the only thing i can think of doing is grabbing the blanket next to me and covering myself with it, concealing us from the wandering eyes. luke’s lips curl into a smirk, proud of me not forcing him off, knowing that i want it. that i want him.
his hand becomes bolder, rubbing up and down my inner thigh. i bite my bottom lip again, trying to stabilize myself from this new feeling. his fingers become more adventurous, going to the hem of my shorts.
“fuck.” i softly mumble to myself, luke’s soft chuckle tells me that he hears my light groans. his fingers don’t stop there, rubbing up to the bottom of my shirt, toying with the cotton material.
the pads of his fingers brush against my sensitive skin, right across the bottom of my stomach. fire engulfs my stomach, my breath hitches as he rubs softly back and forth, tickling my skin.
the game comes back for the final period, my eyes keep trained on the hockey game, but my mind can only focus on his touch as it drives me insane.
he feels my stomach hitch with my breath, he knows i want him so badly, he knows what he does to me. i squeeze my thighs together, trying to cause some type of sensation in my growing wetness.
i can’t take his teasing fingers anymore, “meet me in my room.” i whisper to him. rising from the couch and walking away from the crowded living room. i head for the direction of the bathroom, making them hear my footsteps as i lead their ears to the door closing. i stay outside the bathroom, tiptoeing to my room in an unsteady waiting of luke.
the door finally opens, luke quickly closing the door silently behind him. a deep breath is all i can hear from him, turning around to look at me patiently sitting on the foot of my bed. he takes a seat beside me, quickly gripping my hips and pulling me onto his lap.
“it’s been awhile since we’ve been alone,” my fingers rake up the back of his head, through his soft brown hair, my finger swirling around a curly lock. “too long.” a soft sigh parts from his lips as my fingers lightly scratch at his scalp.
he keeps his hands on my hips, roughly gripping at my denim shorts. “i missed your hands all over me. you can’t tease me out there and not expect me to want more.”
our bodies come closer, our lips so close together, our hearts syncing their beats. i can barely hold myself back from making up that final inch. “tell me how badly you want me.”
“i want you..” he shyly gives into my need. it’s not enough for me, i feed off of hearing how badly he wants me, his hands rubbing up and down my body, the feeling of his cock being buried deep inside me.
“oh yeah…” my lips attach to his neck, softly kissing down from his jaw.
finally he gives in, “i want to feel you against me, your lips on mine, every inch of your beautiful body baby.”
a devilish smirk spreads on my face, “mmm, is that right?” i mumble against his neck, softly sinking my teeth into his sensitive skin, sucking the spot to soothe it after.
“oh god yes.” luke practically moans out. his hands become adventurous, slowly going down to hold my ass in his hands, gripping at my clothed skin. they make their way down farther, gripping at my exposed thighs while my kisses go back up his jaw.
i crave for his taste, forcefully pressing my lips against his in a hungry state. my tongue quickly sliding into his mouth, hands combing through his messy curls, pushing him closer into me. he guides my hips back and forth on him, i can feel him hardening underneath me.
breaking the kiss to catch my breath, i drop my head onto his shoulders as i feel his hands press against my pussy. my hips still grind on him, but instead of just on his hard cock, it’s on his fingers. “mmm, you want me that bad?” he chuckles, i nod against his shoulder.
he undoes my shorts, exposing the top of my pink lacy panties, his fingers drag down them, going farther into my pants. they settle on my wetness, my hips stop rocking, focusing on the closer touch. “god you’re soaked.”
my lip sticks to my teeth in a harsh lip bite, my walls clench around nothing, begging to be filled by him. his fingers work slow and teasingly, rubbing circles around my clothed clit, watching me squirm on top of him. my back slightly arches, legs slowly opening wider for him to have better access to my aching pussy. “needy, are we?”
i softly whimper, my hips start to grind again, craving more attention from his teasingly slow hands. his fingers move the crotch of my panties aside, touching my wetness with his bare fingers, feeling my folds and them dripping for him. my head lifts off his shoulder, taking a glance down at his hand stuffed down my pants, looking back deep into his eyes.
i take a deep breath out, without a single warning he thrusts a finger in my pussy. making me loudly squeal with surprise. he quickly covers my mouth, stopping his finger in me. “you have to be quiet princess, you don’t want us getting caught, now do you?” he asks. i shake my head no, he hums at my obedience. “good girl.” his voice is in a whisper, softly praising me.
he begins to move his finger once again, letting me adjust to the new sensation before adding another, stretching me out for him. curling his fingers up to my g-spot. finally trusting me enough not to scream, he moves his hand off of my face, settling it down on my hip to keep me steady.
my hands grasp at his curly locks, trying to compose myself. as he adds another finger i bite down on my bottom lip, trying to keep the wanting moans from escaping my lips. a smirk spreads across luke’s face, watching what he can do to me with just his hands. i curse under my breath, dropping my head down to keep my brain straight, the pleasure slowly becoming less bearable.
his fingers quicken, hand comes off my hip and to my chin, lifting my head to force me to stare back into his eyes. “look at me while i’m finger fucking you baby.” my teeth puncture my bottom lip harder, my chest heaving with all the moans i keep to myself. i slip up and let on me out, hard hands hit my throat, softly squeezing. “i thought i told you to keep quiet?”
his grip loosens to allow me to take a breath, closing back up as soon as my chest rises. another finger slips in my cunt, my legs start to squirm, toes curling and hands squeezing his hair. his fingers losen from my throat, falling down to the straps of my tank top. he pulls one strap off each shoulder, one at a time. hooking two fingers at the neckline and pulling down, my tits falling out from my lack of wearing a bra.
he wastes no time before gripping my breast, rubbing his thumb over the sensitive bud. i clench around his fingers, my senses overloading with pleasure. he lowers his head, kitty licking my other nipple. i softly moan, not loud enough for luke to get me in trouble again, but enough for him to know the things he’s doing to me.
my stomach clenches, the feeling i know very well as my head starts to feel light. “i’m so close.” i whimper out. luke doesn’t let up, switching to my other breast, sucking on the nipple before softly biting the skin.
my whole body clenches as i feel my climax, luke’s quick fingers curling inside me quickly. it all comes raining down, my pussy clenching around him as i coat his fingers with myself. he backs up, letting me heave and fall down on his chest to catch my breath.
i quietly curse under my breath, squeezing my eyes shut to recover from my high. i life my head back up to look luke in the eyes. he removes his fingers from my folds, fingers coated with my cum. he slides his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean. my breath catches in my throat again, god damn he makes me want more.
“you’re such a good girl Y/N.” he pops his fingers out of his mouth, “i wish i could fuck you silly right now. but i want to keep all those precious moans to myself, when we can be completely alone.”
before i can even react to his words he puts his lips back onto mine, slipping his tongue in my mouth to let me taste myself. his fingers plant back onto my hips, helping me up to my feet so he can get out from underneath me.
“you go get yourself cleaned up and meet me back in the living room. i pray we weren’t gone too long for anyone to notice.” he whispers, fixing my hair from the sweat that beads on my forehead.
i nod to his words, giving him one last little kiss before he silently slips out of my bedroom. my try to regain my normal breathing patterns, my brain still fuzzy from my previous orgasm.
i obey luke’s wishes, tiptoeing to the bathroom to clean myself off. splashing water into my face to try to remove my blushing red cheeks. i walk back out to the bathroom, seeing everyone engrossed in the final minutes of the third period. i thankfully sigh, slipping back between the guys to sit back down beside luke. he offers me a light smirk, we both then back to the television, watching the game unfold.
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badgirlmaymay · 4 months ago
Text
CALL, AND ILL RUSH OUT
Mason Thames x Y/n
IN WHICH….y/n and Mason supposedly hate each other, but they’ve been hooking up on the down low. When her ex shows up to her door when she has friends over, who does she want to call?
WARNING… arguing, mentions of sex/hooking up, slut shaming, mentions of STD’s, coarse language.
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Y/N
BANG BANG BANG
I practically fall off the couch, groaning as I sit up in alert. I look around, to see Madeleine, Brady, Jacob, Tristan and Miguel all doing the same. We’d decided to have a sleepover, since according to them, I still couldn’t be trusted alone ever since I’d broken up with my ex, Louis.
“What the fuck?” Brady groans from the mattress on the floor. We were all home alone at my house, so I’m even more confused.
BANG BANG BANG
Through my disorientated mind, I realise that the banging is coming from the front door, and I stumble to a stand, nearly stepping on a few hands as I do so, but eventually everyone is up as well.
“Y/n/n, I know you’re in there!” The familiar voice is Louis shouts. I gulp. I can tell he’s drunk from the way his words slur. I feel eyes on me, then Brady surges forward towards the front door, and for a second I think he’s going to open it, but instead he bangs back.
“Y/n’s asleep. Call tomorrow like a sane person!” Brady shouts, but I know Louis. I know he isn’t going to just give up. He’ll sit there for days if he has to.
“I know my girlfriend, and I know she’s standing right behind that door!” Louis shouts back. Ex girlfriend I want to shout out and correct him, but I stop myself. I hesitate for a moment as Louis bangs on the door again.
“Let him in.” I mutter.
“What? No. Y/n, he’s drunk.” Miguel protests.
“He won’t hurt me. I know him.” I insist, and after a second of silence, Brady unlocks the door. I sort of expect Louis to do a cartwheel inside and land like an animal, but instead he slowly walks in. And he’s definitely drunk. I can tell by the look on his face.
“Leave us alone for a sec.” I find myself saying.
“Fuck no.” Tristan shakes his head. All the guys are stood to attention, as if they’re ready to fight Louis on the spot. And Louis seems to sense it as well.
“It’s okay. We’re just gonna talk, right?.” I say, and Louis nods.
“If you so much as look at her the wrong way, the only thing you’ll be talking to is my fist.” Brady says threateningly, and Louis nods. Maddy gives my arm a quick squeeze, before they all go and sit in the lounge room, leaving Louis and I in the entrance hall.
I watch as he slumps against the wall, knees locking so he doesn’t fall down.
“Mason Thames?” Louis groans, sounding like he’s either about to cry or punch something. My gut twists itself into a not. I really hope he won’t do either.
“We’re not dating.” I attempt to reassure him.
“You’re just fucking him.” Louis concludes. I can’t deny it. I used to hate Mason, ever since I got that role in the black phone, but after me and Louis broke up a month ago, I somehow always find myself in his bed.
“He’s such a slut, Y/n, cmon.” Louis continues, and I run a hand through my messy hair. I stay silent. “You’re not one for casual hookups. I know you. It took us four months to have sex.”
Louis isn’t wrong. I know he isn’t. But somethings different with Mason.
“It’s complicated, okay? And it’s none of your business.” I conclude, and Louis pushes himself off the wall, and for a second I think he’s gonna come at me, but he starts pacing back and forth before coming to a halt in front of me, only inches apart.
“Were you fucking him when we were together?” He asks, but before I can answer, he’s spitting out more words of anger. “He practically lives at the health centre. Jesus Christ!” I know the group can hear us now, because he’s raising his voice. I also know that Louis is completely wrong, but my words are caught in my throat. “Am I gonna have to get tested now? Do you have std’s?”
“Stop it, Louis.” I state. “You’re being rude. You need to leave.”
“God, I can’t believe I ever wanted to get back with you.” Louis takes a step closer, and I try to back away, but he grabs both of my arms and pulls me closer so he’s yelling in my face. His iron grips makes me wince, and I blink back tears. “God, you’re such a slut. I can’t believe you’re fucking him! You’re a disease ridden whore-“
“That’s enough!” Brady roars as the group re enters the hall, and I watch as Brady grabs Louis by the collar of his shirt, and hauls him out my front door. Miguel follows after them, shutting the door behind them.
“Babe?” Maddy asks, but I can’t see her face over the sea of tears pooling in my eyes. Her hands are gentle as they caress my arms. I can see Tristan and Jacob as well, all three of them staring at me with worry.
I let out a choked sob as I rush past them, racing up the stairs and to my room, but they follow me.
“Y/n?” I hear Tristan say, as I reach for my phone, but to my dismay, it’s dead.
“Can you call Mason?” I ask, as I slump onto my bed. All three of my friends stare at me in shock and silence.
“Mason thames?” Jacob asks. I nod.
“As in our costar Mason Thames?” Tristan asks. I nod again.
“Mason Thames, as in the guy you hate?” Maddy asks.
“Please just call him.”
~~~~~~ MASON
My blood roars in my eyes as I push open the front door of Y/n’s house, to see Brady, Tristan, Jacob, Mikey, and Maddy all standing in the entrance hall. It’s one in the morning, and I’d gotten a call from Tristan telling me to come over to Y/n’s place, where they’d all been hanging out. No explaining, he just told me Y/n’s upset and wants to see me.
“Where is she?” I ask, trying to shove past them, but Brady places a firm hand on my chest, holding me back.
“Mason, man, just calm down okay? She’s a bit upset.” Brady explains, making me even more confused.
“What happened? What did you guys do to her?” I ask. I have so many questions.
“None of us did anything, Mason.” Maddy pipes up, and I run a hand through my hair in exasperation. “Louis showed up, she told us to let him in-“
“You let him in?!” I shout, and Maddy sighs. I know all about Louis. And I think I hate him more than Y/n does.
“She told us to.” Jacob says.
“Where is she?” I demand.
“She’s in her room, but Mason, Louis said some things-“ Tristan starts, but I don’t let him finish. I barge past my friends and race up the stairs to Y/n’s room, and when I open the door, I’m met with a sight for sore eyes.
“Baby..” I say, and I hear a gasp from behind me, and I turn around to see all of our friends. I slam the door in their face.
Y/n’s sobbing on her bed, eyes puffy and swollen. She looks up at me through her tears, and i reacted immediately. I sat down on the bed next to her, wrapping my arms around her smaller figure and bringing her head down to my chest.
”What happened, baby?” I ask gently.
“Louis showed up.” She managed through sobs. “He called me…He called me a disease ridden whore because I’m sleeping with you.”
“What?” Anger bubbles in my throat. “Y/n, we’ve only ever been safe. And you’re the only person I’ve ever-“
“I know. I know.” Y/n says, sitting up and wiping her eyes. But I’m willing to get tested to squash any bit of doubt anyone has. Hell, I’m willing to get tested to prove that fucker wrong. “I just really needed you to be here with me.
“I know.”
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ma1dita · 7 months ago
Text
when the curtains close
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a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader
words: 5.3k
summary: (post-tlt) The one where you lose two people in the Labyrinth that day. All strings are cut. (Pollux, Annabeth, Percy, and Mr. D find out the biggest difference between you and Luke.) (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)
a/n: yeah to me this fic sounds and feels like that tiktok of the girl humming to her microwave. split povs: pollux, annabeth, your depictions of the titular battle of the labyrinth at CHB, some blood/gore, death & grief. the usual. you forced me to by lizzy mcalpine. references to cat on a hot tin roof by tennessee williams if you squint
(posted 5/14/24)
The first time Pollux has a panic attack, time seems to stop and the world keeps moving on without him.
He’s reminded of a time when you rambled on about how anxiety takes possession of the senses like a moment frozen in a snapshot meant for you to identify. In the memory, you had your feet kicked up on the dash flipping through a DSM-5 while he and Castor took turns speeding up and down Farm Road (totally normal older sister behavior from you, and when a cop pulled you over, the three of you narrowly escaped a ticket by talking in riddles and godly smoke that smelled like grapes). Pollux still remembers the sound of laughter in the car blending like three different chords to an archaic melody (or squawking crows in the strawberry fields)— the bond between you three laid out before time knew limits and was always meant to be.
It’s still his favorite song. You’re their favorite (and only) sister, they love to joke. These are facts that will never change.
“You two have each other, and well, I’ve got this,” you had said, the Zippo flicking open and closed against your thumb in the blossoming darkness of the car. Pink and purple rays of waning light blanketed the old hatchback as it steadily made its way back towards Half-Blood Hill, comfortable silence shared in the way only siblings can stand to be quiet—when there are no words needed to get a point across. But you’ve always set yourself apart from the pack, not needing anyone like how they need each other.
Not since Luke left, at least. The growing distance between you three since your untimely resignation from camp was proof enough. Pollux’s eyes met Castor’s in the rearview mirror as they both noticed your sad smile. His brother’s voice broke through the silence then, having always been the one blunt enough to say what was on his mind, “You’ve got us too if you let us see you more often.” Your fidgeting stops.
“It’s not you two, it’s just hard to be back here sometimes. I see things for what they used to be instead of how they really are now. Now it’s just… it has to be all business.”
Pollux cracked a smile, “S’what you get for growing up. Soon we’ll just be annoying voices in your head like you are to us.” Shutting your textbook, you turned to look at them from the passenger seat, eyes that match theirs darting between their blond heads, “All of us have to grow up eventually. Except maybe you two— I prefer you in my nightmares like the kids from The Shining. Whenever you get sick of Dad, come see me. Gods know that camp deserves a break from the two of you too.” Your knuckles knocked against both of their heads affectionately as he put the car in park, “My built-in bodyguards, huh? Always looking out for me.”
All words and meaning escape Pollux now as he stands in the greenery of the North Woods with battle gear ill-fitted to his large frame. It’s the first siege he’s ever taken part in, the first time he’s had to use battle strategies outside of Capture the Flag and the first time he’s slashed his way through monsters and demigods with the intent to try and kill or be killed. Sword and Shield could have never prepared any of them for this—as his eyes meet Castor’s and then yours with all of you thinking the same thing, the three of you join the sea of iridescent orange through mind-numbing black moving like a sharp three-pronged sword.
This type of stuff isn’t typical for him, he thinks. He and Castor are used to being comedic relief— being the source of laughs and juice boxes for pesky little campers instead of facing the real world outside the boundaries of the Mist. Perhaps your father babied them to make up for the time he lost with you, but there’s a moment where he wonders how being kept soft will keep him alive in a world as harsh as this one.
Childlike innocence is ripped away from them in the bubble they’ve inhabited until this moment. Home is now a warzone and like lambs set up for slaughter, the twins both turn to look at you as a shuddering gasp leaves your mouth at the carnage in your surroundings, monster blood and fallen friends and enemies at your feet. Breaking away from formation to take a deep breath, he looks at the sky and wonders where your father is, but smoke and soot fill his lungs and he coughs desperately for a breath of fresh air.
Pollux thinks he must have stopped breathing before Castor took his last breath. It wasn’t supposed to be a competition, but sometimes life was just funny like that.
5, 4, 3, 2, 1.
Just like you told him.
Castor was always the more manic one while Pollux knew how to endure. Children of Dionysus are forced to befriend insanity before it makes an enemy out of them—twisting the ugly into what’s real and creating something beautiful out of the deranged. You’ve shown the boys how you detach from emotion by recognizing the details—separating fact and fiction, a methodical process only describable by the blood that runs through your veins. Pollux doesn’t know where to start—everything happens so fast but it plays out in front of him like someone put the pieces together to a stop-motion animation.
He sees Castor’s sword fall to the ground when he gets slashed on the forearm and sees him get clubbed over the head with a metal weapon he’s only seen bad renditions forged for theater practices and hanging on the walls of the armory. Castor falls first to his knees, and then into the dirt with a thud. He never knew there could be that much blood coming out of a person, much less a mirror image of himself. Pollux sees your face come into his line of vision, deep maroon splatters on your face glittering with hints of ichor and then you’re moving because he can’t. The enemy is coming back for him now, and for a moment he wonders if Castor will be mad if he lets him. He sees you turn in an instant, swinging your sword down on the neck of the aggressor, a teenager not much older than he and his brother are—were. It’s funny how his brain immediately makes the switch to past tense, and how he can’t stop thinking about how he’ll now and forever be older than his twin. Pollux then sees you catch the body of the boy you just killed as life seeps out of him slower than it did for Castor.
It doesn’t make him feel any better, though.
His knees hit the ground next to his twin, touching the sludge of dirt soft like quicksand and moist with what he hopes is not blood, but Pollux is not quite sure of what else there is to hope for. His fist is wrapped around Castor’s shirtsleeve, touching faded orange and sweat as he holds on for dear life. Maybe if he tries hard enough his soul will still be intertwined with his. Your hand touches his shoulder, five fingers reaching out to brush the back of his neck and the feeling of your skin helps him refocus a bit, even if you’re saying something he can’t make out. Then the metal of your Zippo lighter feels cool to the touch within his palm and he knows what he needs to do.
The battle isn’t over, but for the three of you, everything stops here. There is no going forward without your brother. You were never meant to be children of war.
Pollux hears the sound of his heartbeat thundering through his ears, blood rushing through his veins and can’t help but notice the silence amid the chaos. There are no words fit for this—and even if there were, Castor and you were always the more talkative ones. He hears the spark of the purple flame between his fingers, blowing the smoke over him and his brother’s body, and their father’s powers blanket them like how you used to tuck them into bed, warm and safe. This is what your family is—unconventional and unending even in different realms of existence. And then Grover’s scream of panic echoes through the air and everyone hears that. Hysteria ensues as monsters and demigods alike run amok, and Pollux realizes he’s stopped shaking.
In his father’s domain, he will always find comfort.
You stand above him now directing campers calmly with a free hand—a brewing storm crackling underneath your skin that he now understands. Hidden by the illusion of smoke, Pollux’s tired bones rest alongside his brother’s dead ones— together as they always were meant to be.
The three of you together, his little family—that is a fact he hoped would never change.
The smell of grapes envelops him as he leans his forehead against your muddy leg… when did the battle end? It almost masks the scent of death that rips through the air as your hand brushes through his sandy hair. Pollux stinks of sweat and you stifle a laugh as you see him smell his armpit. You three were always the same type of fucked up. He doesn’t look down at Castor laid across his lap but knows he would’ve found it funny too. Ignorance of reality even for a moment serves as a comfort. Purple meets purple as he looks up at you with a smile that doesn’t fit his face anymore and he croaks, “Wonder what dad would say about our first battle…”
Glory was never meant to be this bittersweet—it tastes like blood in his mouth until he wipes it away from his cheek and realizes it’s Castor’s. In a way, it’s his too, everything about him and within him is exactly the same down to the star stuff the fates wove them from.
“I’ll be the one to tell him. You take care of Castor,” you answer, as if there’s anything else he would want to do and then he realizes you’re crying— and he’s seeing all of the pieces put together in front of him in this photograph in his mind.
Pollux blinks slowly.
Suddenly the image he has of you is more defined— there is new meaning to the sadness you could never shake off all these years, and he is too young to lose his greatest love, which makes him realize then that so were you.
How long does this have to go on? he wonders, grabbing onto your hand with an eagerness only comparable to the feeling he got when you and Luke whisked him and Castor away from Florida all those years ago. This punishment of living while half of his soul does not—what is he supposed to do next? This was supposed to be the safe place. There is nowhere left to run. His thumb rubs circles into the back of your shaking blood-soaked hand, a secret within the smoke.
Pollux thinks there will always be a part of him frozen in time now, a memory of this day hung up in his mind like a portrait as he holds Castor’s cold hand in his warm one.
Annabeth finds you in the middle of the strawberry fields before the sun sets. She knows you won’t be sleeping tonight, not if you can fight it— not when there’s so much to do. You’ve long grown out of your ripped-up and tie-dyed camp shirts, and the one slung on your frame is newly pressed and starchy from the storage room of the Big House, still stiff against your freshly washed skin. When she’s close enough to touch you, you’ve been scrubbed clean of today.
She doesn’t have to be a daughter of Athena to know that you know that she’s there even if you can’t see her, but for once she feels like she has to hide. For once, Annabeth Chase doesn’t know what to say. How can she explain the feeling of guilt that coils around her brain like barbed wire—how can she even begin to apologize for the thing wearing her brother’s skin, knowing that it killed yours? For once, her hubris is crushed by the sinking feeling of humiliation.
“Was your first quest all you thought it would be, Annie?”
As she takes her navy cap off, silver braided strands around her face wave in the wind as a reminder of what Luke put her through. Though as she looks at you now with your berry-stained fingers plucking at stems one by one instead of using your powers, she thinks that your mind is elsewhere—anywhere but here, where everything is a painful reminder of your five years as a camper.
Five years with Luke.
Mourning him isn’t a new feeling for either of you, even though he comes in and out of your lives like a poltergeist you want to bash across the head, just always out of reach. But he’s a constant, even when he’s not here and he’s what binds you two together as you huddle hidden away from the rest of camp.
“He did this for you.”
It’s not a question, more so a fact out of Annie’s mouth when you finally meet her eyes and sigh, “Luke’s always had a way going about things. The most stubborn man to ever live.” You toss another strawberry into the crate at your feet. No one’s working right now, trying to tend to the injured and the dead. Everyone’s doing their best to chase away the nightmares that are bound to come, and she knows you’ll be making rounds with her on the night shift to ease everyone’s anxieties. But there’s a thought so strong it makes her head hurt, bursting at the seams until she can’t stop with her last-ditch effort to fix her found family.
“Maybe if we find him, we can save—”
“He’s been out of time for a while now, Annabeth. We both knew that,” you say, voice firm and unwavering. You’ve never sounded so monotone before, and it hits her as her mouth falls agape, “You’re giving up on him? Why… why would you give up on him?” Anger courses through her veins like fire and she’s mad that she’s at the center of this prophecy, of Hermes’s anger for his doomed son who will love you until the ends of the earth.
And what of her?
What of the hope she has in happy endings, how is it that you’re so damn calm? Annabeth kicks at the crate, strawberries rolling out in different directions and your jaw tightens as you let her be petulant, let her scream and yell until her inner child can catch up with the reality of the world around you.
“How could you?”
Your name echoes as she repeats it, grabbing at your shoulders and she’s as desperate as the truth that shakes her when you cup her face in your hands and wipe her tears.
“You’ve carried the weight of the world Annabeth– you know what it feels like to let it go. It’s time to let him go. There’s nothing I can do or say to fix this.”
Then it hits her that you knew of his fate and yet this was still the outcome. There was nothing else to do but watch him be puppeteered by a Titan and have to fight evil while it wears his face.
“He came to you after he saw me, didn’t he? Why didn’t you tell me? Why don’t you love him anymore?”
Because it wouldn’t have changed a thing, your eyes say. Instead, you grimace as you say, “Wouldn’t that be funny if it were true?” You lean down and pick up the fallen berries, some bruised and covered in dirt, and then you look at her again with teary eyes.
“Some prophecy huh? To lose a love to worse than death. What could we have done besides love him until the end?”
“He’s still in there. I know you know that too. Don’t talk about him like he’s not,” Annabeth insists, and a sad smile settles upon your face. It’s as gentle as the kiss of the breeze on your cheeks.
“I lost a brother today, Annie.”
“Me too.”
The funny thing about planning funerals is that with all the fuss it takes to organize one, you still find extra time on your hands. Barely getting any sleep and dragging yourself out of your dad’s bed, Pollux snores loudly next to you after hours of working on Castor’s shroud. Sleep wasn’t expected for either of you, but being unconscious was the only way of giving your brains a reprieve. The both of you have been busy doubling down on the preparations, even if it means Mr. D won’t be back in time while he’s out rallying gods for war.
The faster Castor’s earthly body is reconnected with his soul, the easier his trip will be into the Underworld, Nico says, and it’s funny how comforting the little emo pipsqueak can be when it comes to matters of death.
Perhaps this is the solace you bring to others with things you’re able to control—keeping camp afloat is something you were always good at, and helping every traumatized child that comes up to you for a juice box or a lullaby eases the guilt that follows you. Walking around Camp Half-Blood for more than a weekend made you feel like a judge, jury, and executioner. Though most of the campers from almost five years ago have either aged out, defected, or died—the ones that remain still look at you like you’re trouble.
Perhaps you always will be.
You even found yourself with the time to pray to Hermes last night for your brother’s safe passage into the afterlife, though if he’s angry at Annabeth, he must hate you for letting Luke go. Dinner didn’t seem appetizing enough anyway, so your whole plate was tossed into the hearth. You hope he likes chicken and rice.
But if a god can’t fight fate, what did he expect you to do?
The Iris Message to your dad last night was difficult, to say the least. Pollux’s hands shook as he continued to paint grape vines onto the silk cloth and the both of you didn’t say anything when your father started to cry. He out of all of the gods knows what it’s like to be tested to the limits—to endure pain and it’s a gift you and your brother are grateful for in times like these. Watching the god display the human emotion that either of you couldn’t as freely made it more real though.
There was also the interesting predicament of Chris Rodriguez being locked up in the basement of the Big House. Replacing screaming fits with serenity was almost second nature, and your gentle hands were what got Clarisse to truly respect you again for the first time in years. You could hear her sneak downstairs and talk to him while he slept (and the look in her eyes when you’d greet her with a cup of coffee made it known to you that she finally understands what it means to love someone who’s lost—two demigod daughters filled with a lot of rage and hurt were more alike than they think).
So the morning of your little brother’s funeral, you found yourself on the shoreline of Canoe Lake, setting your Redbull against the post of the dock and looking out onto the water.
You needed to do something with your hands. In the past few days, if your fingers were not occupied by pen and paper, a guitar, supply crates, or anything else that was helpful to others and all the more distracting for you, it’s been so easy to pick at any little thing. Perhaps it was your subconscious trying to reflect the damage on the inside, but today, your nail polish was chipped beyond belief. A small price to pay to not lose it without a signature boyish smile to ease your worries and amber eyes that could help you escape from the routine.
Running camp was always easier back then with your runaway boy and his scarred cheek.
How pathetic.
Crouched over in the sand, you plucked stones and filled your pockets with them. They knocked against each other — weighing your pockets down as you walked closer to the dock. Swinging your feet off the side and chucking them into the water, you could barely achieve a ripple.
It’s so quiet that you end up wondering if the rocks in your pockets would weigh you down to the bottom of the lake. It must be nice down there, to exist away from everything.
Bubbles surface slowly in front of you, then Percy’s head bobs in the water as he squints at you through sunlight.
“You chucked a rock at my head!”
A smile tugs at your lips, almost indiscernible but definitely there, “I was trying to skip them. Didn’t know you were doing water tricks in there, kid.” His grin gleams like freshwater pearls, pulling himself up onto the dock as his hand clasps yours. Shaking his sopping hair, Percy’s gangly frame sits next to yours like a wet bag of sand—all wrinkly and misshapen and sprinkling you with lakewater.
“Maybe next time don’t pick rocks the size of your fist. How many have you got in there? Your aim is scarily accurate,” he laughs and you huff and shake your head when his hand sticks into your pocket and takes out a few smooth ones to roll around in his hand. You mirror him, watching him skip a few stones into the water that reach a good distance before sinking into the depths of the lake.
There’s something sad about feeling comfortable to trauma dump on the teenage son of Poseidon, but with the way he grabs your arm at your third unsuccessful toss of a rock, you can’t do anything else but sigh.
“Why didn’t any of you call me, Percy?”
He was waiting for this question—it’s been banging around in his head since the beginning of Annabeth’s quest, and perhaps her talk with you yesterday didn’t go as expected so once again he’s left with the difficult part.
Things happen to turn out pretty difficult for him a lot, he's noticed.
Many things could have been made easier in the past few weeks: Ariadne being your stepmother and her blessing to you would’ve made the Labyrinth easier to navigate, and having another demigod to fight alongside him instead of a mortal girl would’ve been a plus too. But he looks at you with ocean eyes and a smaller smile that reminds you of how he looked at you when you dropped him off in Montauk the summer you met him and quit your head counselor job.
“You’ve already made a lot of difficult decisions. We weren’t sure if…”
The rotten wood beneath you creaks under your shifting weight as you turn to him, tucking your legs underneath your bottom.
“Didn’t think I could handle it?”
He shakes his head, “The opposite, actually. Annabeth has this notion that you’re the only one that can save him. You know, back on my first quest I met Luke’s dad and he told me something…”
You swallow instead of answering. There’s no way Percy is giving you Hermes’s advice right now. Somehow this feels like karmic retribution after years of spiting that asshole, and what he tells you next is more of a sign that it must be true.
“He said, ‘Do you know what that feels like? To be so close to someone you love knowing neither of you has any choice but to keep hurting each other?’ I didn’t get it then, but I do now.”
“With Luke and his mom?” you ask, picking at the remaining slivers of varnish on your thumbnail.
“With you and Luke. I didn’t call you, because… why would I want to see you hurt after everything?” Percy says this like it’s something he would do for everyone.
Perhaps it is, but the knot that forms in your throat feels as heavy as the boulder you almost sunk into his skull. He’s tall enough to lean your head against now, and you don’t mind the water spots that will form along the side of your funeral outfit. The shape of him it leaves will remind you of the little brother you gained through so much loss.
“Plus he has a new girlfriend. Absolute horse of a girl,” he jokes. It slips over your head but you still giggle, “I could’ve taken her.”
“I know, that was Grover’s worry. You’re prettier anyway…” Percy pauses, and then clears his throat, “You’ve always taken care of this place, y’know? Even after….I just think someone ought to take care of you.”
Your shoulder bumps against his as you finally skip a rock. It only bounces across the water twice and you think Percy might have had something to do with it, but you’re not bothered by the help this time around.
You wake up in the dark of night to see your dad looming in the doorway to his office. With drool and a post-it stuck to your cheek, he comes over to ruffle your hair in amicable silence.
“Hard at work or hardly working?” he chuckles, leaning over your shoulder to scan over the paperwork sorted into piles for him to sign from his absence.
“Hm. You wish,” you scoff, leaning against your arm as you look at him. He’s not in his usual eyesore of attire, wearing a clean-pressed suit with his hair slightly slicked back.
“You look good. The meeting went okay?”
“Grover will be fine. The Council of Cloven Elders? Not so much. Neither are the gods ready to take sides. Putting out little fires everywhere as we speak.”
The wheels of the office chair roll as you swing your feet, and if you both listen closely enough you can hear Pollux snoring upstairs. Chiron loved the earplugs you gave him.
Your father’s face smooths out a bit at the sight of you and the sound of his son’s breathing upstairs and he asks, “Are you? Good?”
A shrug slides off your shoulders, “How does one be good in a world like this one?”
A startling scream echoes off the walls of the Big House, rattling the floorboards from below as your father grimaces.
The work is never done for you two.
“Don’t look at me like that. It was worse when he first came here.”
“Don’t doubt it,” he mumbles, brushing lint off your shirt before he notices you’re donning neon orange. “Didn’t do laundry, princess?”
“Pollux and I haven’t gone back to our cabin since... I can wake him up if you—”
Mr. D shakes his head and goes to toss his body onto the couch against the window, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath.
“Dad? Do you think Chris is a bad person?”
A beat passes and you think he may have fallen asleep, but then his voice sounds like gravel scraping up his throat.
“I don’t think anyone can be bad, kid. I think it is more often that people get lost. What Rodriguez needs is someone to take hold of him gently, and hand his life back to him—you…Clarisse… that’s what we’re giving him.”
Now you’re silent, staring at the dust on his name placard at the edge of the desk.
“Do you think otherwise?”
He calls your name again, and you look up like you’re about to lie to him but don’t have the energy to.
“Princess, do you think you’re a bad person?”
He stands up and walks around to your side of the desk, sitting on the edge so you have to look at him.
“I killed someone. During the battle. Didn’t even think twice about it, slashed his neck as soon as Castor went down and…” you sniff. “I kill monsters, Dad, not children. How does that make me any different?”
The last time blood was on your hands like this it was Luke’s in the Garden of Hesperides. All these years later you ended up being right— the only person you vowed to get bloody for is Luke Castellan, and now in a twisted turn of fate, you’ve bloodied your hands because of him.
“Because you did it for your brother. There are no other explanations needed.”
He sees the exhaustion in your eyes, the drop in your shoulders, but your dad also sees the strength in your bones that spans generations and he knows you and Pollux are strong because you are both his.
“Humans believe in life everlasting—glory, as some call it, but they’re too focused on achieving it on earth instead of enjoying what life has to offer,” he scoffs, “Everyone has the guts to die, but no one has the guts to truly live. How sad.”
“His name was Rowan. Son of Hecate. I taught him how to whistle the summer I left. This is all my fault, Dad,” you say shakily as he comes near and pulls you into his side. He shushes you but you relent.
“Luke’s killing all these people to fulfill a promise he made for me. I’m just fucking disgusted with myself for being the cause of it all. What good life can I deserve when wherever I go I leave a trail of blood?”
Love and addiction must be so alike; to know that to be sober you can’t indulge in the vice ever again—not only does it hurt you, but others around you. But through the years you’ve always kept the taste of his name in your mouth, the feeling of his skin under your fingertips, and the knowledge of why he’s destroying the world so he can make you a better one. Insanity stems from fighting for so long that you embrace the pain; feeling something so intensely that when it consumes you you’re able to walk out the other side and wear it as armor.
Not everyone is hardwired to persevere.
There are moments like a night like these where it would be easy to give up. Instead, you pour two glasses of whiskey you’ve conjured and hand one to your dad. You both sip on your drinks slowly, embracing the crawling feeling of the burn.
“Liquor is one way out and death is another,” your dad sighs blissfully. He almost looks rejuvenated by the alcohol he knows he’ll hear about from Zeus later, but perhaps the death of his son is a good enough pardon.
“For some of us, we don’t have to think about the answer.”
Mr. D grabs a pen off the desk and starts signing papers to do something with his hands, and then you speak again, “I think I’d rather die for people I love,” and your dad’s attention whips to your blank face staring at the moon outside the window. “Instead of killing for them. I’ve never been a good soldier, Dad.”
Mr. D looks at you thoughtfully and wonders where all the time has gone that you sit there in front of him with more knowledge than him at your mortal age before saying, “You’re my daughter. You’re a fighter. Death is for chumps anyway.”
He lifts you by the arm to try to usher you up the stairs but you stay in his office chair swatting his hands away.
“Got work to do, you and I. Not getting rid of me until it’s done.”
“When are you going home?” he asks, pulling up a chair next to yours.
“I am home.”
You don’t look up from the papers you were filing, stubbornness leaking through your voice.
“If there is a war coming, I want to be home as much as I can. I’m finishing my last semester and I’ll be here before and after classes. You can’t stop me, dad.”
And he knows that too.
There is no such thing as leaving Camp Half-Blood for you.
Never for too long. Your love for it is scattered everywhere campers can see.
In all these years, you never believed I loved you. And I did. I did so much. I did love you. I even loved your hate and your hardness. - Tennessee Williams
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wasitforrevenge · 3 months ago
Text
new romantics pt 2
pairing: MODERN AU!college azriel x female reader
warnings/content: suggestive language, yearning!!! alcohol and drugs mentioned, two love sick idiots, some parts are flashbacks, this is not edited…ill do it later sorry, photos from pinterest
word count: 4.5k
summary: the start of long weekend vacation starts, azriel surprises you and both of you struggle with holding your feelings inside.
authors note: i feel like i use too many of the same words im trying here please! anyways hi part 2 of my azriel fic! i think im gonna write 4 chapters, i’ve already started on part 3 and can’t wait to post! hopefully this weekend, azriel smut coming soon!!!… i am so excited i can’t stop blushing as i write it so! enjoy this part and hopefully i’ll have the next one out soon! thank you for all the likes and comments! i appreciate all the feedback thank you all!
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the next friday afternoon, you’re sitting in the last row of the room, fake listening to your english lecture droning out your professors voice with thoughts of azriel. as always. you truly wonder how you manage to keep passing.
this is your last class before a four day weekend, your whole day has just dragged on and frankly, you’re exhausted and just want to go home and do nothing all weekend.
your head has running with thoughts of last weekend all week. its been driving you mad. you’ve never been one at being able to talk about your feelings, like at all. growing up an only child left and never having any more than just a couple friends you knew growing up left you lonely.
but once you became friends with azriel, you just felt like you belonged somewhere. the days you just spend laying around and talking about anything and everything. whether its what some dumbs said in class, the best dad joke you can find to the hardcore shit from your childhoods.
the only thing you could never talk to him about was… him. all you wanted to do was confess to these feelings but yet you haven’t. how can you just admit to your best friend that you’re in love with him.
that’s also something you came to the conclusion to over this week. that you’re in love with him. you thought azriel was driving you mad before you realized this but afterwards… it was so much worse!
when you and nesta finally connected after the party, she for sure entertained your delusions. you told her about everything that happened, leaving out the way he talked to you and held you. that was something you wanted to keep for yourself.
you’re deep in your mind over him, yet again, when you hear a psst from behind you.
and there he was.
azriel peeking his head through the slightly propped door, he grinned when you looked back towards the door to see what was behind you. your eyes grew wide… he’s supposed to be in class right now but you couldn’t even think about that as he stuck his hand and motioned for you to come, there you were making sure your professor was turned to the chalkboard before grabbing your bag and going with him.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
when you got outside your classroom, azriel grabbed your hand and brought you directly to the car. he opened your door and let you in before sitting in himself. your eyes focus on the sight of his scarred hums gripping the steering wheel and all you can think about is that video of the girl saying “you wish that was you huh you wish that was you!”
he’s always done that and it sends butterflies through you every time. once he got in and started driving… away from the direction of your apartment. when you turning to look out the back window, you notice a couple bags in the back seat.
“oh my god az pleasseee tell me where you’re taking me” you groaned pretending to be annoyed at the man in the drivers seat.
he looked over at you again and the sparkle in his eyes just sends you back to when he was staring down at you laying on his chest, cuddled up against him.
he laughed and said, “sorry can’t tell you it’s a surprise.”
you groaned again, even louder this time. “this better be good i missed the rest of the class for this.” you would miss every lecture for this man and he wouldn’t even have to ask.
“oh don’t worry princess, it’s insanely better than whatever that professer was saying… not that you were paying attention to anyway.”
you turned to look at him, mouth open wide and mumbled a shut up. he laughed so hard and then of course you had to laugh, but your eyes couldn’t ignore the way his chest lifted and the muscles in his arms contracted. what you would do to feel him hold you again.
the drive continued with you guys laughing and singing to the playlists on your phone. another thing you guys love to do is to blurt out states on license plates when you see a new one, something that azriel, of course, excels at and seeing them first every time.
about 3 hours later, you pull into a long driveway in the middle of the woods. you didn’t mind the long drive, in fact you and azriel mainly take backroads every time you guys go out just to take in the scenery. the trees and mountains on this drive particularly blew your fucking mind.
“is this where we going?” you ask looking out the window like a little kid, fingers holding on the door. azriel couldn’t help but look over at you as you spoke, his heart swelled at the sight of you.
the way your hair moved from the window open, how your skin gleamed in the sun shining through the windows of his old mustang and the look of utter excitement that coated your face the whole drive.
he doesn’t answer and just keeps driving up the dirt road before your eyes land on a beautiful, old wooden house next to a huge lake. you’re in awe of the masterpiece before you as you notice two cars already in the driveway. you know right away by rhysands honda civic and nesta’s toyota rav4, that everyone is here.
you can’t help but internally scream right now. you can’t believe that azriel has brought you here, and kept it a secret for you don’t even know how long. you look at him, eyes wide and he can’t help the smile that breaks out on his face when you look him.
you smile back at him, even bigger than the one he gave you if possible before your eyes turn to the front door and you see nesta and cassian standing there waving at you to come inside.
you go to open your door but azriel is there doing it for you before you even notice he got out of the car. even though you loved sitting in his car engulfed in the smell of him, you couldn’t wait to get out and spend the weekend here.
you step out azriels car, breath taken away yet again at the view in front of you. nesta is throwing herself into your arms before you even realize, engulfing you in a huge hug.
as she pulls away, you see through the corner of your eye azriel and cassian getting your bags from the car. she grips your hand lightly in yours and starts pulling you towards the house as she asked you about your drive up.
walking inside the house, she let go out of hand and spun around in a circle yelling “TADA” as you both laugh. your eyes dart across the house to the two big L black couches, along with a couple comfy chairs, a fire place along a wall that had shelves covered in books and photos. floor to ceiling windows covered the outside of the house giving you an amazing view of the trees, mountains and lake surrounding the house.
to your left, you see a open wooden kitchen, cabinets littered the walls with a huge two door fridge with a huge kitchen island, covered in different bottles of alcohol. oh yes you guys will be partying it up over this long weekend.
you hear the steps of people behind you, hoping to see azriel again you couldn’t stop staring at him during the drive up. everyone he caught you staring he smiled at you and just kept on driving, like it was perfectly normal. you turn around to see rhys and feyre walking down the staircase next to the entrance way of the house along with azriel and cassian walking into the open front door.
your smile widened as you saw him and you felt nesta jab her elbow into your side and you gave her a glare before she smiled wide at you, before leaving to walk to the kitchen.
you laugh in your head and walk towards azriel to greet everyone, “hi friends!” you said as cassian pulled you into a bear hug. what you didn’t see was cassian give azriel a wink as he embraced you. he pulled away with a laugh before both feyre and rhysand brought you in for a hug.
as they let you go, nesta called everyone to come to the kitchen. they followed but you stayed there as you watched azriel move your bags off to the start of the stairs to take up to your rooms later so you guys can join your friends in the kitchen. he turned around he saw you there watching him. he swears his heart almost explodes out of his chest every time you look at him.
azriel was ready to tell you that he was in love with you. it’s a feeling he refused to admit for years up until a couple months ago. despite not admitting it, deep down he knew what it was, he never had anyone treat him like you did. the way you cared about him and just treated him normal after so many people in his life have just walked on eggshells around him.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
when he met you, he was attached to you from the start. he knew a lot about greek mythology, taking the class was just something fun for him and when you and him got partnered together, he knew it was the beginning to an end. the way his heart started beating faster when you came around, the way his hands got sweaty when you accidentally brushed hands or when your thigh rested against his while sitting next to each other in the library.
cassian and rhysand knew something was up the way azriel came into rhysand’s apartment. the faint blush still on his cheeks, and the smile that didn’t seem to disappear. this had been happening a lot over the past couple weeks when they saw him.
azriel walked in, backpack slung over his shoulder as thoughts of you looking beautiful, sitting across from him at the coffee shop you guys were studying at that night. he didn’t even glance towards the couch until he heard cassian call out to him, “what’s the smile for az?.”
azriel turned towards his brothers, seeing their own smiles painted on. azriel laughed as he walked over and tossed his bag into the chair beside him before taking the seat next to cass.
he swiped a hand over his face and sighed in exaggeration, “what smile?” when he looked towards them, the shit eating grins on their faces said it all. they knew about the unrequited crush he held onto for mor, they knew what his family did to him, all they hoped is that whoever was making azriel smile this much wouldn’t break his heart.
a few weeks later, azriel walked into his own apartment, with you in tow. after he came across you in the elevator, he realized it made spending time together a lot easier. after class one evening, he invited you over one night to join in on movie night with his friends.
he finally told his friends who you were a couple days ago. they couldn’t even remember a time they had seen him talk about something so passionately, rhysand and cassian don’t even think that he registered it. azriel was still insisting that you guys were just friends.
that night was spent watching the jurassic park series. you were so relived walking to his apartment, you were nervous to meet his friends but he assured you everything would be okay and there was nothing to worry about. you loved that about him, sometimes you didn’t even realize how much you stressed yourself out, but every time you spoke it, azriel was there assuring you everytime.
after three movies, four bags of popcorn and a ton of candy, you were starting to doze off. you were so comfortable on the couch surrounded by the way azriel’s apartment smelt.
azriel, who was sitting next to you, noticed that you were getting sleepy and leaned down to whisper in your ear, “hey princess, i’ll walk you down.” you nodded to him with a smile. he stood up and offered you his hand. you guys said your goodbyes and everyone pulled you in a hug. you loved his friends already, nesta especially.
he holds his your soft skin with his own flawed, he could never really get over the way you felt against him. during this point of him liking you, the touch was minimal but he ate it up every time. azriel opened the door and walked out behind you, his hand ever so lightly grazing over the small of your bag where your t-shirt had ridden up.
“but the scene of the t-rex oh my god az,” you laughed lightly as you were exiting the elevator on your floor. he shook his head at you, “no way the scene with the kids in the kitchen was the best in the first one!” he insisted throwing his arms up in exaggeration.
“okay az whatever you say.” you giggle as you approach your door, turning around to face azriel behind you and grab your keys out of your shorts pocket. you look up and meet his eyes as he towers over you. you stand in silence staring at each other before you tear your gaze away, you wonder how long you’d been staring at him like that. he gives you a smile as you look down nervously with your keys in your hand. you turned back to unlock your front door then moved back to face him to say goodnight.
“thank you for movie night az, we have to do it again.” he brings his hand to your cheek and moves a piece of hair that fell into your face from your messy hair clip, he tucks it behind your ear as you look up at him again. “of course, its rhys’s turn next but you can have the one after him.” he said with a laugh as he stepped closer to you. your feelings for azriel were getting worse. it was an innocent crush at first but now… he’s all you could think about. your heart was basically beating out of your chest, your chest almost brushing against yours, you could feel the warmth of his body spreading over yours.
he was pressing against you now as he leaned down, you watched him as his face made it to yours, you were so eager to kiss him but instead he brushes his lips against your ear to whisper, “goodnight sweetheart, ill see you tomorrow,” as he gripped the doorknob behind you and opened the door for you. he leans back and gives you a huge smile as you step back into your apartment, mostly in shock at the way his body felt against yours. you smile back at him before whispering back, “goodnight azriel.” and shutting your door.
azriel is still in front of your door, a few moments longer than he should been after you were in your apartment. he shakes his head with disappointment in himself as he finally walks away. he was so centimeters from your lips and just couldn’t do it. what if you weren’t into him? he didn’t want to press your boundaries, he needed to know this was reciprocated before he did anything.
as much as he wanted to go back there and knock on your door until you opened it, so he could pick you up in his arms, carry you to your bed and fuck you like it was the last night in the world, he just could not.
at least… not yet.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
you don’t even know what time is it now as you all sat outside on the patio behind the house. it overlooked the huge, dark lake with trees covering every inch that surrounded you, not another house in sight. it was incredibly peaceful as you sat on the swinging bench in the corner with azriel, your legs over his lap as you both held drinks in your hand. the sky lit up with stairs as you looked around at your friends talking amongst themselves. you guys spent the day playing drinking and card games. playing cards against humanity with the inner circle was truly a remarkable time. feyre and rhys made homemade pizzas for dinner and they were amazing. you guys laughed for hours and now out on the deck, everyone else sat in chairs around the fire pit as you guys passed a few joints around.
azriel was laughing at whatever cassian said along with rhys while feyre and mor chatted, she showed up halfway one of your card games. amren was nesta sat in the chair next to the bench you and azriel were sitting on as you both sipped on glasses of red wine, talking about the last smutty books you were reading.
as you spoke to her, you couldn’t help by getting distracted at azriel holding the bottom half of your leg with his hand as they rested of his lap while the other one left a glass of whatever they were drinking now. he was just barely moving it back and forth but god it sent chills through your body, it doesn’t help that nests speaking about whatever book she was reading lately as you focused back on what she was saying, trying to get the thought of him touching you farther up out of your mind.
“the slowburn was top tier,” nesta said to you giving you a wink as she sipped her wine, “but oh my god the way they fucked,” letting out a frustrated groan, she shook her head as you both laughed.
“yeah nes, just wait until the sequel, if you thought that was good… you’re in a for treat.” you wiggled your eyebrows at her and laughed. you hear azriel laugh next to you and turn your head towards him. drunk you wants to kick everyone to their rooms and take him, here and now… but alas you’re stuck just staring at the beautiful man in front of you. the way his muscles flex when he laughs, and the way his chest moves. his tattoos peek out of the collar of his shirt and all you wanna do is hold him in your arms.
an hour goes by hanging out by the fire before everyone else else heads to their rooms, leaving you and azriel swinging on the bench smoking another joint. he blows the smoke out in a laugh as you guys talked about the last episode of parks and rec you guys watched. you couldn’t wait to spend the rest of the weekend with him. it just felt a little too natural.
“oh my god duke silver… i just cant,” you laughed as he handed you the joint. azriel laughed, “ron swanson is the best part.” your heart starts beating faster as his hand is now actively rubbing up and down. this bench was surprisingly comfortable but
“along with april,” azriel said and you couldn’t help but agree, they just really are. you hit the joint a few times and pass it back. “okay az, i’m tired now,” you look at him with a small smile on your face. “okay let’s go,” he said with no hesitation. you let out a little laugh and move your legs off his lap, instancing losing the warm of his legs and hands on you.
you guys head into the house and azriel grabbed your bags to carry them up to the 2nd floor of the house, you guys walk down a hallway to the end and he stops in front of the door on right. “here this one is mine and that one,” he said pointing to the one directly across from his, “is yours.” he smiled at you before you turn and open your door as he opened his.
you grabbed your suitcase and carried it into the room and shut the door. you move and find the light switch. locating it, you switch it up and look around the room in front of you. only to find mor asleep on the bed. you quietly groan, out of exhaustion, drinking all day on vacation really takes it out on you. you aren’t close enough with mor so you cant just slide in next to her, so now you’re stuck with your last option.
azriel.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
immediately after entering the room, azriel took a seat on the edge of the bed. his hands still warm from rubbing them on your legs as you sat next to him the whole time. he looked at them, the scars were hard to deal with but never once it did bother you. but they bothered him for some reason, old insecurities and harsh memories all wrapped in something he has to live with everyday.
when his hands are on you, it’s a different story. it’s something he never wants to stop doing. he’s mesmerized by you entirely. he’s in the midst of his thoughts about you when he hears a low knock on the room to his room. he stands up and opens it.
seeing you standing outside his door in the dimly lit hallway, suitcase next to you, hand up about to knock again. he sees you jump at the way he opened the door so fast, not expecting him to be there already.
“hey princess, did you get lost?” azriel said as he leaned on his shoulder against the doorway, a smirk across his tired face.
“mor is asleep in my bed…” you grumble, “can i sleep with you?” you ask him.
a millions are in his head at once. mainly the last time you guys had slept next to each other, the night that he beat the shit out of that guy for touching you, the warm of your body against his, it was like that the entire time. something that he wanted forever. he wanted you in his bed, right now.
with his mind crowded, azriel just nods as he picks up your bag handle and brings your suitcase in the room, shutting the door and locking it behind you after you stepped in.
“thank you az,” you tell him sheepishly.
“you didn’t even have to ask,” he says smiling at you, he points to the other door in the room, “there’s the bathroom so you can get ready for bed.”
“thank you, i’ll be back.” you tell him as you walk towards the bathroom. he watches the door shut behind you, he needs to get himself together before you come out, the thoughts he’s been having all day about you, clothed and naked, where consuming him, yet again.
he realized that you didn’t take anything to the bathroom when he hears the sink turn on. before it’s off, he moves to his own suitcase and grabs a large t shirt he brought and a pair of boxers for you to wear, he loved when you smelled like him. he grabbed out a pair of gray sweatpants for him to change into.
he hears the bathroom door open and looks over to you stepping out. you give him a smile as he watches you walk to suitcase next to his. you pulled out your toiletries bag and were about to pull out your pajamas before azriel had to cut in.
“here you can wear these,” azriel told you, he felt his face grow red, cursing himself for not holding himself together. “thank you az.” his gaze moves down to your lips as you smile at him, taking the clothes from his hand, he feels your fingers brush his. he watches as you turn back around and head to the bathroom to change for bed.
azriel took this time to change into his own sweatpants while he waited his turn for the bathroom. he connected his phone to the tv and put whatever episode of park and recs you guys left off on, leaving it on for background noise and he turned off the light, leaving the room with a small glowing lamp in the corner by the door.
azriel watches the tv from the edge of the bed as he sees you from the corner of his eye come out of the bathroom. dressed in the clothes he gave you, his heart started beating faster.
“i feel like i’ve said thank you a thousand times but thank you again az,” he heard you say as you walked towards him. he looked up to meet your gaze as you stood, almost in between his thighs as he rested his hands on them, “thank you for bringing me here, this place is fucking beautiful- i can’t wait for tomorrow, you’re amazing az thank you,” he feels your hand reach up and hold his cheek, rubbing it thoughtfully over his sculpted cheekbone.
he couldn’t help the way his cheeks heated up under your gaze, “thank you for coming with me, this will probably be a weekend you will never forget,” azriel said with a nervous chuckle, rubbing the sides of your hips.
azriel heads to the bathroom to brush his teeth and go to the bathroom before you guys go to bed. when he comes back, he sees you in the blankets like it’s the most normal thing you’ve ever done. the comforter is pulled up to your chin as your eyes linger on the bathroom door as azriel stepped out.
he moves toward the bed and walks around to the opposite side of the bed, sliding in next to you before he lays on his side, facing your back. the show plays in the background as he watches you turn to face him.
azriel lifts his arm and brushes some of your fallen hair behind your ear as he spoke, “i’m glad we’re here.”
“me too az,” you say quietly.
his hand rests on your cheek before azriel watches you move to cuddle into his chest, just wanting you to be closer to him. he wraps his arm around your body, pulling you closer into his body as he kisses your forehead.
“goodnight princess.”
“goodnight az.”
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
thank you all for the support, love and feedback! here’s the taglist for this! thank you guys so much! comments and feedback are always appreciated
@purple-haired-faerie @thespencerhastings-blog1 @scorpioriesling @kitsunetori @scooobies @elsie-bells @nickishadow139 @lilah-asteria
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unactive-shroom · 3 months ago
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I have no idea what to title this tbh <3
Summary. Inumaki Toge brings you out for coffee to make up accidentally spraining your nose during training - but don't worry, you get your revenge
Warnings: like one swear, nose bleed mention, tide pods
The smell of fresh bread and pastries danced in the air as you and Toge took your seats inside the cute café on some Tokyo side street. It was a sunny Saturday morning, and Toge had insisted on dragging you here to make up for accidentally hitting your nose during training the evening before, resulting in a nose bleed that lasted at least 20 minutes. You looked around your surroundings carefully, trying not to disturb the bandage that sat precariously on your nose in a vain attempt to hide the obvious swelling.
It was definitely a cute café - the cosy amber lighting and brick walls welcoming many other couples to the comfortable cushioned seats that lined the walls. Toge tapped your arm, signing a quick I told you it was a nice café. You scoffed at him, shaking your head. “Not nice enough to warrant a broken nose, though.”
He groaned and slumped on his arm, signing a lazy I’m sorry! But at least you get a cute bandage on your nose now.
Sighing at the daggers you shot him, he finally signed exactly what you’ve been hoping he’d say - I promise you can get me back for it, okay?
Grinning, you leaned forward. “In any way?” you questioned excitedly.
With a sigh and a slight look of regret, he answered simply with a dejected “…tuna.”
You hummed happily and handed him one of the menus propped against the wall. “And I’m assuming that you’re paying, right?”
“Tuna, tuna”
You smiled to yourself, still scanning the menu as Toge put his back already. Both of you always got the same thing, generally speaking, but you always thoroughly read the entire menu before ordering. Admittedly, you did feel bad about teasing Toge so much, but hey, he’s usually the one teasing you. And you’re like, 90% sure that he’s using Gojo’s card. But it’s the thought that counts!
The waitress soon came over, giving a warm welcome and asking if you’re ready to order. You recited your usual order, and asked for a pastry too, before looking at Toge. “And an iced matcha as well, right?” He nodded, and leaned over to point at a pastry on your menu. “Oh, and a pistachio croissant, please. Thank you!”
After the waitress had left, you turned to Toge with a thoughtful hum. “So, what do you think of the new first years? Not Megumi, the other two… Nobara? and Itadori? Do you think that they’ll all get along?”
He shrugged in response. Well, they don’t really have any other option, since it’s just the three of them. So hopefully! You nodded in agreement.
Our year definitely lucked out though. I mean, I don’t know what I’d do if I hadn’t met you. Maki probably would’ve killed me by now. He signed casually, his eyes crinkling in a smile behind the scarf covering his mouth.
“Awwww, Toge, you can be so sweet sometimes!”
He clutched his heart dramatically before signing Only sometimes? I’m always sweet and kind and hilarious and-
You grabbed his hands with a laugh to stop him from reciting every positive adjective he knows. He smiled fondly at you before the waitress returned, carrying your drinks.
“Oh, thank you!” you chirped on behalf of the two of you, while Toge simply nodded.
The waitress hesitated before carrying on - suddenly blurting out “Um, do you mind if I ask you guys a question? It’s totally okay if it’s too personal, though!”
“Uhhh, I mean sure, go for it! What’s up?”
“Um..” she fidgeted with her hands before continuing. “Is your boyfriend mute?”
Confused where this is going, your first instinct is to passive-aggressively ask “So what if he is?”, but sensing no ill intent from this girl, and remembering how Toge said you could get him back, you’re struck with a wonderfully devious idea.
“Nah, he did the tide pod challenge a few years back, messed up his throat. He can’t say more than like, two words a day. That’s why we’re talking in sign.”
Silence. Absolute silence stretched between the three of you, but you could see the cogs turning in Toge’s brain, realising that you were getting your revenge. He groaned and covered his head in his hands, which were resting on the table.
“Oh- Oh my god. Okay. Um, I’m really sorry about that- That really sucks. Holy shit.” She regained her composure before continuing. “Uh, I was just wondering because I wanted to learn sign for my friend. Would you be able to tell me where you learned it?”
You handed over the name of the book that you both had used to help learn it, as well as a youtube channel that had helped greatly.
As she left, Toge groaned, looking up at you with one eye open. “Don’t look at me like that! You’re the one who said I could get you back!”
He sat up, shaking his head, and took a long sip from his drink, before bursting out in laughter. I can’t believe you told her that! What the hell, y/n! He signed between fits of giggles.
You giggled alongside him, sipping your own coffee. “well, at least she’ll have a fun story to tell after work.”
You had begun to get weird stares, unsure if they were from the non ceasing laughter from the two of you, or from the fact that you loudly said your boyfriend had eaten tide pods. Regardless, you decided to ask the nearest waitress (not the one who had asked about sign, thankfully) to get your things to go.
Stepping out into the sunshine, you giggled once again, slipping your hand into Toge’s.
“Thank you for bringing me out for coffee. And sorry that I started rumours about you, babe.”
Toge temporarily tried to look mad, letting out half an annoyed “Okaka” before erupting into giggles once more. There’s no way that he’d be able to stay mad at you, not when you were smiling at him like that. He pulled on your arm, clumsily signing arcade? at you, trying to hold the pastries and coffee in one hand. You nodded and grabbed his hand once again, happily making your way toward the arcade, yapping on about the new gacha machines they installed there.
a.n Yapper gf! y/n x listener brainrot bf! Inumaki 4ever idc idc. Alsoo not making fun of the tide pod challenge that was lowkey really insane and dangerous and it goes without saying to not!!! eat!! tide pods!!!
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strrykais · 3 months ago
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lie with you - room for one more?
wc : 1220
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what hyungseo said really had you in a weird place the rest of the night. you tried not to let the others know, you didn't want to ruin chenle's party.
you sat on the couch watching some of the guys play beer pong, you were drinking in hopes to forget that maybe you were actually a shit person. you never meant to hurt hyungseo and you never would of thought that the reason could be because you liked someone else. before you could even register what your mind just said you felt the couch slightly shift.
"hey mopey." taeyong says with a drunken grin.
"what do you want tae." you say rolling your eyes, placing the cup to your lips.
"i have to use the bathroom and you just so happen to be my chosen substitute." he says bouncing off the seat pulling at your arms.
"no no no i'm okay ask nayeon or mina i'm okay really." fighting his strength off. the battle between the both you stops when you see jisung in the corner of your eye. you quickly stand up cause taeyong to stumble at your actions.
"okay ill do it. lets go.'' you pull taeyong towards the table slotting yourself in between him and doyoung in hopes their height hid you.
"doyoung this is your partner, ill be right back." and with that you watch taeyong rush past the table in the direction of the bathroom.
you slowly turn to look up at doyoung giving him a smile, he returns it.
"ever played before?" he says handing you the pong ball. you take it and nod, doyoung steps back allowing you to put yourself in the middle of the table. with a deep breathe you aim at one of the red cups across the table ignoring the way mark and jenos face was eye level with the cups in hope to throw you off.
chunking the ball at the cups, it smacks right into the forehead of mark. hand clamping over your mouth to not burst out laughing.
you do hear doyoung laughing out loud, arm swinging over your shoulder.
"dude what the fuck? does my forehead look like a cup hole?" mark says rubbing the sore spot, as jeno is bend over laughing.
"you arent very good at this i see." doyoung say leaning down.
"no i am, i was just trying to use marks forehead as a backboard, as you can see it worked." you giggle out when you notice the ball actually made it into a cup. this caused the group to burst out even harder.
taeyong was gone for a while now, so you decided to play another round with the guys. you also noticed that jisung was not that far away from you talking to some people, sneaking glances at you. you were feeling really hot under his gaze. doyoung was able to sink the ball into the last cup. cheering out he wraps his arms around you picking you up and spinning you around. laughing out as he puts you down, you feel hand on the small of your back turning to see jisung smiling down at you.
"can i borrow her?" jisung asks doyoung who nods and walks out to mark.
"i wanna show you something." jisung says slipping his hands into yours and leading you up the stairs.
you only nod, heart pounding trying not to think of something unholy, you watch how he weaves his way through people and slowing pushing open a door, turning on the lights and gently gesturing for you to walk in first.
you slowly step in further taking in the simple decor. you walk towards the bedside table to see a picture of jisung and chenle when they were younger.
"this is chenles place?'' you ask, taking in the other photos around the room. jisung nods leaning against the door.
"yeah its his summer home, this would be my room when i would come stay with him." he says watching you walking around touching every little thing as to memorize it.
"you guys go way back i see." you smile as you stare at the photo him and chenle in basketball uniforms. cute. " what did you want to show me." you say looking back at him, watching as he reaches out turning off the lights.
letting your eyes adjust to the dark, you hear him say 'look up', when you do you smile at the little glow in the dark stars on the ceiling.
you felt him before you could see him, he slowly reached out to cup your face to face him. you were getting nervous, really, really nervous.
"i like you, like a lot. i think i always have this type of gravitational pull towards you and i could never understand why. and i think im finally to realize i was slowly falling for you. i know you just broke up with him and we can go slow i dont care as long as you can be mine.'' his voice was so sweet and soft and with every word he slowly bent down lips hovering over yours. "can i kiss you, please?"
he sounded so desperate, you don't know what came over you when you mumble out a yes smacking your lips straight into his.
jisung felt like he was dreaming, he never kissed a girl that he liked this much, it was euphoric. you hands reach up to grip at his hair causing him to let out a little groan, using this opportunity to stick your tongue into his mouth. jisung reaches down behind your thigh, understanding you jump up wrapping your legs around his torso.
jisung leads you both to the bed, both continuing to make out. needing air you pull back watching him as he gently lays you down on your back. going straight to your neck leaving kisses and nipping at it. jisung was trying so so hard to not bust right this second, he never realized how much you had this effect on him. pushing himself back jisung reaches behind his head pulling off his shirt throwing it across the dark room.
you lean up running your hands from his abs up to his chest and finally his shoulders pulling him down on you. jisung kisses your lips softly, playing with the hem of your shirt.
"take it off jisung please." your breathy voice, was all jisung need before he started lifting your shirt up, teasingly slow.
"yo jisung you in her-" the door swings open revealing a very shocked donghyyuck. jisung quickly pulls down your shirt back down as you stare shockingly at hyuck. the dropped jaw slowly turns to a wide smirk.
"and i wasn't invited this is fake as fuck, got room for one more?" he says as jisung grabs a pillow chunking it towards donghyuck who quickly shuts the door before it can hit him.
jisung sighs letting his head fall onto your chest as you pet his head.
"we should probably stop. knowing him, he is probably listening." jisung says placing a kiss on your forehead pulling you up.
"no im not.'' you hear hyucks muffled voice behind the door and jisung threw another pillow at it.
jisung stares at you reaching out to fix your messed up hair.
''so pretty."
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a/n : they kissseddddd :0 i was gonna do more but i realized i could not :p also in the next couple of chapters time is passing, you can tell with the dates on tweets :)
tags : @onlyhyunjin @nctjunie @sunghoonsgfreal @neozon3nha @mystverse @multifandomania @joyzluvr @222brainrot @mmjhh1998 @yyangj3lly @choibeommie @hyuck-me @dudekiss3r @somerandomf1fan
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