#its more like im throwing my hands up in the air in exasperation
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gargelyfloof118 · 1 year ago
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Somewhere between 5 to 7 yards of dolomite were delivered and spread in the runway for the barn.
It didn't get properly tamped down by the contractor our neighbor ordered, so Hubs rented a tamper and did his best to pack it all down, wet it, and pack it down some more.
We roped off the area in hopes it can dry and become more solid before the horses tear it up with their hooves. And now it's raining...
It does look nice though.
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vnti-vnxiety-recs · 3 months ago
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i need a mark lee drabble so bad like hes soo attractive 🫡🫡
I highkey owe yall a mark fic so even though this was submitted after closing i'll indulge lol.
Hes a little drabble from a WIP im supposed to be working on lmaoooo. I have no idea when it will be done, but nothings set in stone so if you wanna see certain elements in this fic lmk and ill put em to the side once i get to writing this.
Baby, I'm a rockstar Mark x reader sneak peak
“You only joined to get back at me!” Mark insists, his tone a mix of frustration and accusation.
“Hmm, not quite. I also joined to sleep with Jeno,” you reply, shrugging nonchalantly as you lean against the wall, trying to mask the flutter of nerves in your stomach.
Mark’s band, Limitless, had recently lost its lead singer, Yuta, who had been signed to a major label, effectively sidelining the rest of the group. The sudden vacancy left the members feeling tense and unsure of their future as a band.
Mark posted about the opening along with the audition details, you felt an irresistible pull to be there. It was a chance to reclaim some of the passion you once shared with music—just as much as it was an opportunity to confront Mark again.
Your relationship with him had ended on shaky terms; he had chosen the band over you, pouring himself into rehearsals and gigs, and leaving little room for anything else. You often wondered if he had ever truly cared, or if you had just been a distraction from his ambitions. Now, it was hard to resist throwing barbs his way whenever possible, letting him know exactly how you felt about his choices.
Mark crossed his arms, an eyebrow raised in skepticism. “Right, because you couldn’t possibly be interested in the music.”
You can’t help but smirk. “Oh, please. I live for music. But let’s be real; having a shot at a date with Jeno is a nice bonus, too. Just imagine how awkward that’ll make it for you when you see us together.”
His face twists in annoyance, but you can’t quite tell if he’s more irritated by your boldness or the idea of you moving on without him. You relish in the tension, eager to remind him of everything he lost. After all, he left you for the band, and now you were back, ready to disrupt his world just like he had disrupted yours.
“You're childish! You're wasting my time. I know you don’t really care about this,” Mark snaps, exasperation etched across his face.
“It doesn’t matter what you think,” you retort, arching an eyebrow. A smirk creeps onto your lips as you continue, “Your band members agree. They voted me in, remember?” You watch as he clenches his jaw, trying to reign in his frustration. “And the last time I checked, you needed a singer—and now you’ve got one.”
“You—” Mark starts, but then he stops mid-sentence, clearly grappling with his emotions.
“Huh? What’s that?” you prompt, leaning in slightly, your voice dripping with mock sweetness. “Exactly.”
For a moment, the air crackles with tension. You can see the conflict in his eyes, the part of him that wants to lash out versus the part that knows you’re right. It’s almost satisfying to watch him struggle, to see the realization that his band’s fate now rests in your hands. The smile on your face widens, fueled by the thrill of the challenge and the satisfaction of reclaiming your voice—both in music and in this ongoing rivalry.
“Let me catch you slip up, I’ll give you hell” He spits, shoulder-checking you on his way out of the practice room.
Oh you were going to have so much fun fucking with him.
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mediumgayitalian · 8 months ago
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fic rec friday 10
hi!! welcome to fic rec friday. every week, i pick five fics i have bookmarked and rec them with a little review. check them out!
something borrowed by @rosyredlipstick
In the Solace Wedding Planning agenda, on the fifth page into their summer schedule, there are carefully scrawled out notes reading this: Bride and Groom - Hazel Levesque & Frank Zhang Best Man & Maid of Honor - Percy Jackson & Piper McLean Wedding Court - Annabeth Chase & Jason Grace Mellie & Gleeson Hedge Reyna Ramírez-Arellano & Leo Valdez Ring-bearer - Chuck Hedge Flower-boy - Nico di Angelo - Will plans wedding and now, apparently, Nico stars in one. Except...sometimes there's a bit more confusion on that last part. AKA the AU where Will plans weddings and thinks Hazel and Frank are going to have to cutest, gap-toothed ten year throwing flowers down the aisle, all while wondering why this 'Neeks' guy is always hanging around, and what business he has looking that good.
yes i am back on my rosyredlipstick (dude she's GOOD okay). however this one is my favourite i think. this is the kinda story you could use to explain to people what dramatic irony is bc LORD i wanted to SHAKE THEM 😭😭 will falling like deeply in love with nico and being intensely stressed about everything the whole time is so real and on brand. i love him and i love the fond exasperation that just bleeds from this fic its GREAT
2. Rental Love by @rosyredlipstick
*Read Terms & Conditions - Male/22/Long Island N.Y.C. Tired of showing up stag at holiday events? Want your family to stop thinking there’s something wrong with you? Just want some arm candy for a work event? Look no further. Your solution is here! I will attend holiday events with you as your paid date. Accepting all genders as applicants. Email [email protected] if interested. Interview & application will be set up there. - Nico di Angelo has been telling Hazel Levesque about his boyfriend for weeks. The bad part? Nico doesn’t have a boyfriend, the holidays are coming up, and not all of Jason’s ideas are horrible. They’re all a bit surprised about the last one.
THE LEVEL OF STUPID THAT THEY ARE...😭😭 kills me fr. like this whole fic is just a manifestation of truly one of the best tropes of all time…..like what if we took a hallmark movie and made it gay as all hell. iconique indeed
3. A Match in the Making by @coconutcranberries-blog
“You’re a morning person,” Nico muttered, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palms. He ran a hand through his black hair, which stuck up in disarray, the same way it did every morning. He was a mess, and Will Solace looked annoyingly put together, and Nico didn’t even care, really, he didn’t.
friendship is the core of romance!! it is!! every time!!! and it's such a core in this fic....which is fucking??? ten years old??? im just realising?? jesus christ??? anyways. "Nico had the sudden, warm feeling that Will Solace had never bought his act." i YELLED
4. Perception by scorchedtrees
In which everyone thinks Nico and Will are together.
i love this trope i love it SO BAD. both ways. when your love is so obvious that no one misses it.....love to see it truly. and will can have one second of beingn smooth and not a dweeby loser. as a treat
5. the world is brighter than the sun now that you're here by @finalizer
It was hard, Nico eventually concluded, to maintain one’s air of spooky otherworldly detachment with a blinding ray of sunshine trailing one step behind him every minute of every day.
grouchy nico my beloved truly. honestly hes such a bitch i love him like "Seriously, give the guy a perm and a few cats and he’d be that weird aunt that everybody avoided around the holiday season." why does he ALWAYS have something vile to say 😭😭 hes a mood fr
thank you for joining me this saturday friday!! happy reading!!
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7-wonders · 1 year ago
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waittt anakin said “longing looks from both of us” ??? please im begging I need to know more of anakin and readers dreams 😭🙏🏽
hehehe you want Force dreams? You can have Force dreams. (This is part of my Sith!Anakin/Rebel!Reader AU; you can read everything I've written for it here)
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You don't know where you are, and right now, you don't really care. Not when you're being pressed back against a wall by the comforting weight of somebody else's body, their lips clashing against yours as your tongues tangle together. All that you can think about, all that matters, is how well you're being kissed.
"Touch me, please," you murmur breathily against your partner's lips.
"I would do anything you asked of me," he replies, his hands snaking down your body as his lips trail down your neck to allow him to suck bruises into the skin.
You let your head fall back, one of your hands tangling in his hair and encouraging him to continue with his ministrations. When you look down through heavy-lidded eyes, you see your hand nestled in a golden halo of curls. A pair of golden eyes look up to meet your own gaze. You hold it for a moment before reality hits you and you both shove away from each other in disgust.
(Disgust for the situation, or disgust for letting yourself enjoy this so much?)
"Seriously, Vader?" you say in disbelief. Now that you've come to your senses, you realize that you're dreaming. The Force hums around you differently in dreams, much as it did the first time you shared a dream with Vader, and everything has a hyperrealistic quality to it.
The man of the hour straightens up to his full, towering height, forcing you to look up at him if you want to actually face him.
"I have as much control over our dreams as you do; which is to say, I have none," he retorts.
"This is so annoying," you lament.
Vader hums in agreement, but slowly yet surely, your bodies are drawn to each other like magnets. You can say that it's against your will, and maybe, on some level, it is. On another, much more important level, your heart begins to speed up again as the space between you vastly decreases. Vader's hands come to rest on your hips, and you inhale sharply at the warmth that spreads through your body.
You have to regain control of the situation, or else you're going to end up right back where you started. "You're so annoying."
"I am, hmm? We can certainly stop if that's what you'd like." You remain silent, because you don't know what it is that you'd like. Vader, the bastard, picks up on this and smirks. "Better shut me up, then."
Now, you're forced to choose whether or not to go against your morals and throw caution to the wind. Only—it's not going against your morals. Not really. You're dreaming, after all. Technically, none of this is real outside of the confines of your respective minds. Though it still makes you feel uneasy, it's enough mental reassurance for you.
Screw control.
You groan in exasperation before grabbing Vader by his belt and pulling him flush against you once more. He lets out a noise of surprise, a noise which is stifled when you reconnect your lips. Thankfully, he begins kissing you back almost immediately; you don't think you could handle the humiliation were he to turn you down now.
An indeterminable amount of time passes as you lose yourself to your desires. It's as though time actually ceases to exist—all there is in this comfortable little bubble is all that you need, which is you and Vader making out in such a passionate way that, frankly, would be embarrassing were you actually awake.
When you're finally forced to come up for air, you gasp out, "I hate you."
"That makes two of us," Vader says breathlessly before kissing you once more.
One of Vader's large hands moves from its place on your hip to the front of your pants, teasingly playing with the button keeping them closed. Your stomach tenses, but you remain still like a hunter worried that one small movement will scare off their prey. Who's the hunter and who's the prey here, you're not sure.
"Tell me to stop," Vader says, pleads, giving you the opportunity to back out now.
You shake your head instead, and he moans into your mouth before deftly undoing the button. His fingers play with the waistband of your undergarments, teasing both you and himself, before finally, they slip into—
Your commlink's shrieking has you waking up with a gasp, your eyes snapping open to see the ceiling of the quarters designated as yours on the Rebellion's Endor base. Groaning in disappointment, you fumble around on the stand next to your bed until you can grab the device. Angrily, you stab at the screen before a voice finally emits from it.
"Apologies for waking you, Commander," Oona, one of your crew members, appears in holo form in front of you. "General Kessyk is requesting your presence in half an hour. Sounds like we're shipping out on a new mission."
"Thanks, Oona. I'll start getting ready." Her figure disappears as you hang up with a yawn.
Stretching in your bed, you try to get rid of any residual sleepiness as you think about the dream you were so rudely awoken from. You should be horrified, you know. You should purge the memory from your mind and work on building your shields better so that such an event can never happen again. Instead, the only thing about the situation that you find yourself regretting is that you weren't able to find your pleasure with Vader.
Heat stirs in your abdomen, and you curl your toes at the reminder of what just occurred. For a moment, you consider your options; logic is telling you to get up and get ready for your meeting, but you do have a whole thirty minutes before said meeting, which should give you plenty of time to, well, take care of yourself. Your hand unconsciously follows the same path down as Vader's did, and your eyes flutter closed as you imagine those warm, piercing eyes and the way that his body felt against yours.
Yeah, thirty minutes is more than enough time.
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tigerdrop · 1 year ago
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so im kiiiinda redoing half of my fic. to account for the, uh. "canonically being able to put gordon into the computer" thing.
on the one hand i think its a way better deal b/c i will look 10% less insane writing about benrey literally putting him into the sims and playing with him like a doll . but on the other hand i have a bunch of words about gordon fingering himself that i cant use anymore
so. here they are, for u. "Enjoy"
———
Gordon blinks at the screen.
Benry Benry wants to have Oraljob sex with Gordon Freeman. Do you wish to proceed?
The laugh that erupts from him is high-pitched and violent, leaving him gasping for air. Benrey cackles in his ear. “I— I— Oh my God,” Gordon wheezes, doubling over. “You want to have what with me?! We can’t— We can’t show that on a Christian channel! We’re going to get so banned—“
“do you want to—“ Benrey can’t finish the sentence, gripped in the most intense laughter Gordon’s ever heard from him. “do you want to have oraljob?”
Gordon clutches his desk, weeping and howling.
When he calms down from his sudden fit of hysterics, he clicks “No”, to a chorus of disappointment from the chat. “I know, I know,” he says, sympathetic, “but seriously, Papa’s gotta pay the bills. Gotta keep it clean. PG-13, that’s my motto.”
“then why’s your dick out,” Benrey wheezes.
“Very funny—“
He stops in his tracks when he sees that his dick is, in fact, out. His Sims dick, that is. Gordon slams his ‘commercial break’ button so hard that he misses a few keys and takes a screenshot.
“Whoa! Put that thing away, man!”
“nice,” Benrey says appreciatively.
“Bear with me, folks,” Gordon begs. “We’re having some, uh, technical difficulties.” Why did his dick pop out? He said no! (In fairness, his Sim is decidedly not having oraljob sex. He’s eating a sandwich. With his penis out.) He hurriedly clicks through menus upon menus, trying to find a way to put his clothes back on, but none of the options do what he wants. “Why can’t I put away my stupid dick?!”
“hey, look. you just went up a level in nudism,” Benrey snorts.
Gordon buries his head in his hands, but can’t stop himself from an anguished laugh. “Okay! Give me fifteen, everybody. Go smoke a cigarette— or, or vape, I know the kids are big on the Juul these days, I don’t care, I’m not your dad.”
With that, he ends the stream.
“What kind of fucking mods did you download on my computer?” he asks, exasperated. “I feel like I need to give it a bath.”
“normal ones.”
“Uh-huh. You know my dick’s not even rendering correctly, right?”
“huh?” Benrey zooms in on it. “huh. it’s, uh. checkered.”
[some sort of connecting thought]
“I don’t even look like that, anyway,” Gordon mutters, brushing him off.
Benrey peers down at him. The webcam light turns on, drawing Gordon’s eye. “huh. i dunno. i can see the, uh… the resemblance.” He enunciates the last word carefully.
“Did you just turn on my webcam? Are we streaming right now?” Gordon sits upright, hastily checking on his streaming software. Still offline. Not that it would have mattered - he’s panned away to look at a stray dog in his yard - but it’s the principle of the thing.
“yeah, uh. no,” mumbles Benrey.
Gordon closes down OBS and Firefox entirely. Just to be safe. “A little fucking warning next time? How did you even do that?”
“administrator privileges.”
There’s a pause. Then Gordon sinks back down into his chair, defeated. “I shouldn’t have given you those. I should have smashed you up into little pieces when I had the chance. After you bought fucking Burnout Paradise on my dime—“
“you should show me what you look like,” blurts out Benrey, voice low and blunt.
“I— What?”
“i can make it look better. more like you.”
Gordon stares at the screen. Benrey avoids his gaze. He boggles a little, so far beyond comprehending this that he’s skipped past ‘denial’ and ‘anger’ all the way into ‘acceptance’. “Are you— Are you hitting on me?”
“for the immersion,” Benrey says stiffly.
———
Gordon throws his head back in frustration. “They’re just not— fucking— they’re not big enough! They’re short and stubby and I can’t— get them— where I want!” His wrist bends, desperately seeking something that he can’t describe. The tendons sing in pain. He hisses, then relaxes it, letting his hand fall limp.
Benrey stares down at him, mouth parted.
“This was stupid,” groans Gordon. “Now my hand’s all sticky and I don’t wanna wipe it on anything—“
“try again,” Benrey interrupts him, blunt and hoarse. “please?”
Gordon peers blearily at him from over the top of his glasses. “Huh?”
“i wanna.” That massive jaw gyres, struggling to work itself around a thought. “i could do it better. make it good.”
Heat rockets through Gordon’s belly, spiraling up his spine and leaving his hairs standing on end. His dick twitches without his conscious effort. Benrey’s eyes immediately dart to it. Emboldened, Gordon draws his fingertips around his hole, threatening to slip back in. “Yeah, bud? You sure? I don’t think you’ve ever done this before.”
“how would you know,” Benrey puffs.
“Uh, well, you’re in my fucking computer, for one thing.” He slips two fingers in with little resistance, just up to the second knuckle. For show. Nobody say he never did anything for Benrey. “But you know what? Maybe this’ll be funny.”
Benrey’s face hardens. “it’s not funny,” he says, pouting in high-definition. “i would never joke about pussy shit.”
“Point one: That is one hundred percent not true,” Gordon points out. “Point two—“ He curls them and groans, a soft noise. “I wanna hear it. Straight from the horse’s mouth.”
“what does this got to do with horses,” says Benrey, bewildered.
Gordon shifts in his seat, stretching a leg high into the air and gripping the back of his thigh to hold it firmly in place. His fingers move in a slow, back-and-forth motion, just enough that they visibly slide in and out, shiny and wet. Benrey makes a strangled noise in his throat.
“You think you could make it good for me? Tell me. Show me what I’m missin’ out on.”
Benrey’s fingers twitch around his avatar, scaled up to giant-like proportions, far too big for the task at hand but itching to put it into practice. “fuckin’,” he starts, low and rumbling and struggling to articulate himself, “stretch you open… mine’re bigger. lookie.” With his other hand, he waggles his fingers in front of Gordon.
“Well, duh,” Gordon says.
Above him, Benrey’s gaze shifts to his own hand, gears churning behind his eyes. “they’re still bigger,” he insists.
To prove his point, he snaps them - in a stomach-churning instant, Gordon’s camera snaps back to an isometric viewpoint, looking in on their dollhouse. On them. On Benrey’s Sim, pale and shirtless, beads of sweat tastefully textured on his skin, leaning over his own on the cheapest double bed Simoleons could buy. There’s a hand pressed against the mattress, and another at his waist. Pawing at him. And, unlike Gordon’s own hands, they’re proportioned well for a guy his size: closer to dinner plates than the slim, short ones he’s furiously trying to bend into the right shape in real life.
He shivers in his seat.
“Point taken,” he says. His voice cracks partway through.
As if on cue, their Sims start moving again, gracelessly sliding and snapping into a new position. Gordon’s stripped naked, letting Benrey between his legs, and one large hand buries itself in that hairy, thorny knot of polygons and glossy pink textures while the other holds him wide open. The fidelity’s good enough that Gordon can see exactly how the fingers curl: two outside, keeping them back, and two inside, making his Sim’s hips gyrate.
“lookatchu,” Benrey rumbles in his ear. “takin’ it like a champ…”
Gordon sucks in a sudden breath. He curls his own fingers in time with the animation, speeding up to match.
“bet you could take more.”
He whines and visibly clenches around his fingers. “Jesus, man!”
“yeah? yeah? c’mon,” taunts Benrey, shy of breath. “show me. put another one in.”
Gordon weakly mumbles some expletives as he leans his head into the crook of his headphones. Presses himself closer to that voice. “Who taught you how to fucking— talk like that,” he groans, pushing in a third finger.
The fans inside his tower spin faster. Louder. “fuuuck, dude,” he hears, a low, pained utterance.
“I’d let you,” Gordon says dizzily, “God, I must have lost my fucking mind, I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” his fingers make slick, filthy, squelching noises inside of himself, “let you put your hand in me—“
“i wanna,” Benrey cuts him off, too fast. Eager. “wanna fuckin’— wear you like a puppet—“
Gordon makes a sharp noise that surprises even himself. The he half-laughs, half-pleads, “Don’t say shit like that! That’s not— That’s not hot!”
“you moaned. i heard it, buddy.”
He ignores this. Benrey takes the opportunity to lean in, getting a closer view of Gordon’s webcam. And the slick folds Gordon’s spreading open for him.
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hivesfics · 3 years ago
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pierce through me, eren x reader
Cross posted to ao3 under “dickshapedclouds”
Warnings: semi public, strangers, nipple piercings, oral fem and male receiving, photo taking, eren is very cocky
You couldn't believe you let Sasha talk you into this. A drunken conversation about wanting a new piercing turned into her demanding you get your nipples pierced. You knew it was because she liked living vicariously through you and she secretly wanted nipple piercings, but was too scared to get them.
"So you're going today right? Right? Can I come with?"
"Fucking hell, Sash. Yes I'm going today, no you cannot come with me." You groan, exasperated.
"Oh c'mon, I've seen your tits plenty of times." Sasha grins, grabbing the aforementioned part of your body and squeezing before releasing.
You swat playfully at her and roll your eyes, pushing her aside.
"I don't care, I'd rather you not see me cry when I get a needle shoved through my nipples."
"You've literally gotten snot in my hair from crying once." She groans, throwing her head back and stomping like a child.
"If I get you donuts after my appointment will you shut up?"
"I- yes."
"Thank god. I've got to go or else I'll be late. You can see them after I get home."
"Deal." Sasha grins, slapping you on the back as you exit your shared apartment.
It doesn't take but 10 minutes to arrive at the joint tattoo and piercing studio. You can't help the nervous, but giddy feeling inside of you.
This wasn't your first piercing, you had multiple. But with each new one you couldn't help being excited.
"Back again, get a life." Jean, the secretary, teases.
"Shut your mouth, is Levi still in?"
"Nah, but we've got a new piercer here. Let me get him."
He stands from the front desk and makes his way to the back. There's some shouting and a few moments later Jean returns with a male.
Hes covered in piercings and tattoos, brunette hair pulled into a messy bun. You can't help but flush at the fact that someone so attractive will be seeing and touching your breasts.
Even if it was in a professional manner.
"This is Eren, he's a little asshole." Jean rolls his eyes.
"Shove it up your ass, horseface. Nipple appointment, right?" Eren insults Jean before turning to you.
"Uh- y-yeah."
"Awesome, let's go back and I'll get everything sterilized and set up."
The giddy feeling has now dipped more into anxious territory. You follow Eren to the back, taking a seat on the piercing chair.
"If you wanna go ahead and take your shirt off you can, or you can wait until everything is sterilized since it's a little chilly back here."
You sit in comfortable silence until he asks you again to remove your shirt after he's gloved up and has everything prepared.
You do so obediently, folding it and setting it aside. Breasts now standing proud, nipples pebbling from the cool air.
"After I mark you can lay down, alright?"
"Alright."
Its so odd to have someone you're not fucking so close up and personal with your chest. You can feel his warm breath against your skin and it causes goosebumps to rise on your body.
"That look good?"
"Yeah, looks great." You smile and lay back.
"Great." He takes the set of forceps and as gently as possible clamps them onto your left nipple.
"You'll feel a pinch, I want you to breathe in nice and deep for me." Eren says as he prepares to push the needle through.
As soon as you breathe in, he pushes it through.
"Oh, fuck!" You hiss, clenching your jaw.
"Sorry." Eren laughs, moving quickly to your right breast.
Although your nipple is hard, he flicks it. Sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. His eyes flitting to yours before pressing the clamp around it.
"Again, deep breath in, sweetheart."
And God does that send an ache between your legs. You inhale, filling your lungs completely.
Expecting the pain, it doesn't hurt as much as the first. But you still hiss, jaw clenched tight.
"Good girl." He says at your breathing.
Eren takes note, cleaning you up quickly before taking his gloves off. He massages the joints of your jaw, making your mouth drop open slightly.
"You did so good." He smiles, tongue flitting over his lips.
You see the glint of a tongue piercing and wonder how it'd feel against your skin.
"You've got the prettiest tits I've seen." He says lowly, placing his thumb underneath and forefinger on either side of your breasts.
"If you weren't so fucking hot you'd have a bloody nose." You breathe, a moment of bravery, you grip his jaw and pull him down for a kiss.
"God I wanna put my mouth on them." Eren groans, showing restraint as to not hinder the healing process.
"Suppose I'll have to see you again when they're all healed." You grin, hand gripping his hair as you press your lips to his again.
He clambers into the piercing chair with you, knee between your legs. His hands gripping your waist.
"Can I eat you out? Please?"
"Since you asked so nicely." You coo, reaching between where he's pressed against you to unbutton your pants.
"Lay back, sweetheart."
Eren shimmies down, his feet hanging off the edge of the long seat. He grabs the waist of your pants and tugs them down with your panties.
"Oh fuck." He groans, taking in the princess Diana piercing that goes through the hood of your clit.
"Pretty isn't it?" You grin.
"Levi do this? That bastard got to see this gorgeous fuckin' cunt?"
"Jealous?"
Eren glares up at you before diving in, tongue dipping into your hole. Nose nudging at your sensitive clit.
You gasp, tangling your hands in his hair again, pulling him closer to your cunt.
He groans against you, vibrations sending a jolt up your spine. Heat filling your body.
Afraid to get his piercing caught on yours, he avoids touching his tongue to your clit. Instead opting to nose at it, and rub his thumb over it.
"Feel s'good!" You moan, rocking down against his face.
You could feel him smirk against you at your desperation. You grip his hair tighter, basically riding his face with how you cant your hips up.
He's licking at you like a man starved, eyes focused on your face as he feasts. He dips both thumbs into your cunt, spreading it open, pushing back against your hands so he can spit.
"Such a desperate thing." He coos teasingly, face soaked.
"If you don't get your mouth back on me I swea I'll- ah! Hhmf! Fuck!" You hiccup, head thrown back as he fucks you with his tongue.
One hand still tangled in his hair, the other pressed to your mouth. Your teeth biting into your knuckles to muffle your sounds.
You feel that familiar knot in your stomach, heat pooling heavily.
"Im- fuck- I'm cumming- gonna cum!" You moan, thighs squeezing tight around his head as you ride out your high.
Hips jerking as you ride his face.
Eren pulls away with a filthy grin, licking his lips before wiping his face with the back of his hand.
"Let me return the favor." You pant, releasing your hold on him.
You make quick work of pulling his pants down, and pulling his cock out of his boxers.
"Fuck- you're pierced here too?" You gasp, licking over your lips as you trail your fingers over the three piercings down the shaft.
"Pretty, huh?" He takes your words, smirking down at you.
"Bastard." You quip, licking a hot stripe from the base to the crown.
Tongue dipping into the slit, tasting the pre that has beaded there. It causes Eren to moan and you can't help but clench your thighs at the gorgeous sound.
You love when men moan for you, you love drawing out the pretty sounds they make. And Eren is no exception, his moans get high and breathy.
You kiss the barbell of the piercings before taking the length of his cock into your throat in one go. Eyes trained on his face like his were on yours.
"Holy fuck- that's so good-" he rasps, fisting a hand into your hair.
Not to push and pull your head, but simply to ground himself.
"Where's the cocky bastard who just ate me out, hm?" You say once your mouth is free of him.
He glares at you, gripping the side of your jaw to make your mouth open before feeding his cock into your mouth.
"Such a damn brat, this what you want?" He groans as he uses your throat.
You can feel the piercings drag against your throat, in deep and then back to your tongue. Your cunt weeps with arousal in response to how he uses you.
"Gonna use that cunt next, cum all over that pretty clit. You're gonna be mine- my little cum dump." He groans.
You whine around his cock, looking up at him with watery eyes. It nearly makes him blow his load, dick twitching in your throat.
He holds himself there, grinning at the way your throat contracts around him, how you gag.
"Mm that's right, choke on me. Good girl." He pulls out of your mouth, giving you a moment to breathe.
A mixture of spit and precum connecting your lips to the length of him. You pant heavily, tongue lolled out of your mouth.
Eren shoves himself back down your throat, holding the sides of your head as he thrusts his hips. Tip of his cock kissing the back of your throat with each thrust.
"So fuckin' pretty." He groans, pulling out to jerk himself off over your face.
You keep your tongue out, eyes trained on his. Waiting patiently for him to cum over your face.
His hand grips your hair, tilting your head as he spills over your face and tongue.
"Fuck. Fuck- can I take your picture?"
You nod, making sure none of his cum drips from your face to your breasts. He's quick to grab his phone and open the camera, snapping a few photos.
"Now lay back and let me fuck that pussy."
You grin and settle back, spreading your legs for him.
"Good girl."
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peachiimilquetea · 3 years ago
Note
heyyyy :) can i get an angst scenario (fem!reader) for your event, with tenya and the prompts, "fuck you for making me love you.", "i'm sorry that i was never enough" and "i just want to understand why i wasn't enough." please?
your writing is *mwah* chef's kiss <3 thank you!!!
“𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮” + tenya iida
ft. “i’m sorry that i was never enough” + “i just want to understand why i wasn’t enough”
a/n: PLS WHY DO YALL ENJOY ANGST SM IT MAKES ME SAD WHEN I WRITE IT EVSJSBSJSSN. this one was just… damn. i hope i did the prompt justice tho! check out my event here!
contains: infidelity, tenya CURSES????, fuck mc ion like her in this one, breakup, overall just a shitty time, hakagure is a real one even after graduation
length: 1.2k
a/n ii: tysm for the kind words abt my work!! 🤍
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hey iida, i hope this email finds you well given the circumstances,
i’m really really sorry…
tenya’s eyes scanned over the contents of the email and he could feel his world crumbling around him as he read. he had to remember to give hakagure something for all her troubles, as he was appreciative of all her help.
he had suspected something was going on for a few months, he wasn’t stupid. he saw the way you had started leaving your phone face down and picking up “extra shifts” at your job.
he noticed the way you smiled, how hollow it looked now when he said something to you or how you tensed up whenever he touched you, almost like an aversion to his affections.
so he pulled some strings, reached out to his old classmate from high school, now one of the top heroes that specialized in stealth in the country. he asked her to tail you on the way to one of your shifts and see what she could find. all he needed was confirmation.
i’m really really sorry…
you had decided to surprise him by coming home early from work that day. the guilt of sneaking around was eating at you and you knew he was suspecting something you made the snap decision to try to throw him off your trail.
you had decided to surprise him by coming home early from work that day. the guilt of sneaking around was eating at you and you knew he was suspecting something you made the snap decision to try to throw him off your trail.
“ten ten? baby i’m home!” you called, putting your stuff down at the door and striding into the room.
“why are you home so early?” he clipped out, initial devastation turning into anger the longer he looked at your face.
“what, i cant surprise, my boyfriend, anymore?” you attempted to joke, picking up on how tense the air was becoming.
“oh now i’m your boyfriend?” he chuckled in disbelief.
“what are you talking about? you’ve always been my boyfriend, ten, we’ve been together for like a year.”
“don’t bullshit me right now, _____. how long?”
“excuse me?” your smile started to slip, hoping he was angry about something else. anything else.
tenya turned the laptop sitting next to him around and your voice caught in your throat as you tried to answer him. high definition proof sat in front of you, a testament to how little you cared anymore. the look on his face told you everything.
he knows, you thought but used all your energy to keep your face as neutral as possible, opting to play dumb.
“how long, _____? answer me.”
you stayed silent, still trying to figure out a way out, but you knew you had reached the end of the line.
“how long have you been doing this _____?”
“s-seven months,” your voice was small. you were scared and ashamed- knowing you had been stringing him along for all this time and never seeing him react to anything like this. not when his brother was attacked or when his father died.
tenya didn’t think he could feel any worse. 7 months was more than half of the time you had been together officially, meaning you had checked out of this relationship a long time ago. you had been lying the whole time. having your cake and eating it too. it made him want to scream, cry and throw up all at the same time.
“im sorry tenya… really i am, but youve been so busy with hero work and your father left you in charge of everything, i’ve just been feeling really neglected, you know?”
“and you didn’t come to tell me about it? you went outside the home, outside of us to get your needs met?”
“it wasn’t like that-”
“then what was it like?” he pressed.
“i..”
“answer me, _____, what was it like?”
“you want the truth?” he gestured for you to go ahead, “i was bored.”
everything you said after that fell on deaf ears. you were rambling, and he wasn’t even sure if you were coming up with excuses for your own sake or for his.
you cheated because you were bored- bored of him and his unwavering love, bored of the late nights you stayed up to imagine your future, and bored of the way he treated the ground you walked on like gold. he absolutely adored you, and you got bored.
tenya’s mouth felt dry as he tried to articulate exactly what he was feeling. he wanted to go for a run and let the world blur into the background as he cleared his mind. he wanted to cry, one large cathartic release of everything that had been building up for the past few weeks. but most of all, he wanted to know why.
“you... got bored of me?”
you breathed out, exasperated, “yes, tenya, god! i needed some excitement, something different. you’re always so uptight, i just wanted to let loose sometimes, it was suffocating!”
iida flinched, the truth stinging more than he anticipated it would. he didn’t even recognize the woman that was staring at him, trying to explain away the betrayal of a lifetime.
“fuck you," he spat, even surprising himself with how hostile he was.
“tenya…”
“no. fuck you for making me love you, and fuck you for not having the integrity to break up with me when you knew you didn’t want to be here anymore.”
you deflated, feeling sick to your stomach at what you had done. initially, you hadn’t meant for it to get this far, but that didn’t matter now. “i know, i’m in the wrong and i’m sorry, but i think we can make this work and-”
he raised his hand at you to stop you. he didn’t want to listen to any more of what you had to say. he wanted you out of his house and out of his life.
he wanted to make you leave, and that’s exactly what he did, helping you pack up the things the two of you had gleefully moved in 3 months prior, and kicking you out.
he told you explicitly to never contact him again, much to your anguish. you knew you fucked up but you still wanted to be selfish, you still wanted access to him in ways that you didn’t deserve.
the rest of the day didn’t feel real. tenya went ghost, turning off his phone and sitting on the couch staring at the wall, unable to sit in the bedroom he once shared with you.
he thought about the ring he had asked his mom for, the ring he had already planned to give you, and heaved out a shaky sob. it was probably burning a hole in the nightstand drawer now, never to be used for its original purpose.
his eyes scanned the room, landing on a photo of the two of you that sat on the tv stand. getting up, he walked over to it to get a closer look. such a stark contrast from the way things were now. the two of you were all smiles in the photo, faces flushed and rosy from the cold air. he ran his thumb over the frame, finger caressing your face.
“im sorry i was never enough… i just want to understand why i was never enough.”
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huffle-dork · 3 years ago
Text
Curiosity Killed the Cat: Chapter 10
What Swallows the Light 
Chapter 9: [x] Read from the beginning: [x]
(AN: IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I HATE THAT WRITING IS SO HARD FOR ME RN AHHH I LOVE Y’ALL THANKS FOR STICKING WITH THIS- THE END IS NEAR!! LIkE MAYBE 3-4 MORE CHAPTERS!! EEEEE!!) 
The boys regrouped at Chase’s studio- exhausted and spent but determined to look for Marvin using any means necessary. Well… most of them.
Jackie was desperate- desperate to do anything but resort to Jameson’s suggestion… he was not ready to face Phantom again.
His limbs still ached from the abuse he suffered at the hand of the mad conman. But, he wasn’t scared. Superheroes don’t get scared.
Chase groaned loudly and flopped his weight onto the back of the couch. “Jackie, c’monnn! We’re getting nowhere with all this!” He gestures to the collection of trackers and electronic devices Jackie’s collected- all beeping or malfunctioning. “Marvin knows you too well man! He’s probably using some freaky magic shit to block himself!”
Jackie grumbled and refused to acknowledge Chase, stubbornly tapping on the tablet he was trying to program. When it refuses to work, he suddenly yells in frustration and throws the thing hard against the wall. It cracks through the surface- the screen shattered and sparking. The hero then grips his hair and suppresses an even louder yell.
Schneep and Jameson exchange worried looks with each other. The doctor tries to speak up,” Jackie-”
“Shut up! I know!” The hero hisses through clenched teeth. “I know this isn’t working! But there has to be something! Something we’re missing.. Something that doesn’t involve-!” He seems to choke slightly, swallowing thickly.
A static laced laugh breaks the tense silence as Anti- who’s splayed across one of the couches like a lazy cat- finally speaks. “Woowww Spandex- it’s so rare to see you so scared shitless-”
Jackie turns to shout at the glitch, his eyes burning with blue power. “Shut the fuck up, you lazy bitch! I ain’t scared-”
“Righttt and the refusal to just- go do the easy thing and see the guy who might actually have the answers to whiskers’ problem is…? What? A super secret strategy of yours? Stubbornness? Stupidity? You are good at that last one-”
Chase has to grab Jackie and hold him back as the hero almost throws himself at the glitch to strangle him. Anti laughs madly, the air around him fizzling with glitches and static.
“Someone’s gotta length your fuse big guy! Hate to see what’ll happen when you finally explode~” Anti’s eyes darken to pits. “Then again… maybe it’ll be fun to watch~!”
“Anti for the love of god- stop antagonizing him!” Jameson huffs in exasperation, making sure his speech slide appears in right in front of Anti’s face so he can’t ignore it. Anti simply laughs and pushes it away- but luckily he doesn’t push the hero anymore.
The others look to Jackie with sympathetic faces. The hero shoves Chase off him with his elbow before looking away, clearly conflicted.
Schneep coughs then carefully walks up to Jackie, using his quiet bedside manner voice, “Jackie… we all know you are… hesitant. About seeing Phantom again. But we also cannot waste our time… we do not know what Marvin could be doing to Jack right of now.” Jackie cringes slightly at this, anxiously starting to pick at the skin beneath his gloves. Schneep looks to his brother with kind and worried eyes. He steps closer and gently places a hand on his then whispers to him low. “It is okay to be scared, you know.” The doctor’s eyes shift to the lounging glitch and Jackie can see the spark of fear in his eyes. “We all understand… but- you cannot let your fears keep you from moving forward, yes?” He squeezes the older brother’s hand tighter, “We all need to work together to stop this… you will not face this alone. And we do not think lesser of you for it.”
Jackie is quiet for a beat- but slowly he nods. He meets Schneep’s eyes and smiles softly. “Thanks Hen…”
Then he sighs and squares his chest before addressing the rest of the room.
“Alright… time to go pay Phantom a visit.” 
The door to the tackily clad Phantom’s emporium opened effortlessly with a little bell. The egos all walk in-and are greeted with a dark and abandoned shop. 
“It’s awful dark in here…” Jameson comments, his speech slide adding a small burst of light. 
Chase squints and whistles under his breath, “Yeah- jesus… you’d think the guy could afford more lights in this creepy-as-fuck shop-”
He then shouts and suddenly falls to the floor.
There’s the sound of glitchy laughter from Jameson’s phone while Schneep digs out his and turns on the flashlight.
“Mein gott Chase- are you okay?”
There’s a groan as Chase pushes himself up and rubs at his head,” Y-Yeah- Yeah I’m okay- I  just stepped on something-”
Suddenly there’s the sound of muffled yelling that has all the boys turning to look at the floor. “N-No way…” Jackie gasps as he goes to inspect the object, then he brings it up for the other boys to see. It’s one of phantom’s crystal orbs- only it’s occupied by the con artist himself and his brother, Mare. Mare is kneeling, one hand knocking against the glass while the other cradles a pale and spent looking Phantom.
Schneep’s eyes widen, “wh- how… how did this happen?” He whispers in disbelief. Jameson is covering up his mouth. Chase is massaging his calf before he looks up and yells, “Woah!” 
Mare inside the orb scowls and knocks against the glass again. There’s a large crack on its side- like it might have been smashed against a corner of something. “Would you stop gawking and help us?!”
Jackie’s face falls slightly. Even if these guys were villains… this wasn’t right. So he nods and goes to try to smash the orb on the ground.
But quickly, Schneep yelps and goes to stop Jackie. “Wait!”
Jackie blinks in confusion and Schneep breathes before whispering to his brother, “Let’s… let's think this through, Jackieboy- if we free them now… we might not get the information we need.”
The doctor raises an eyebrow at Jackie and it slowly dawns on the hero. Jackie hisses back low to Henrik, “You want us to use their imprisonment to get info on Marvin?” His eyes glow slightly, “That’s not right, Schneep!”
Schneep pushes back against Jackie and whispers back, “If we do not- they will just poof away and will not get the info we need to save Marvin! Do you want to help him or not?!”
Jackie’s mouth opens and closes before he scowls and looks away. Schneep tries to hide a triumphant smirk. He then takes the orb from Jackie’s palm and holds it out before announcing, “We will release you… but only if you swear to tell us everything you know about what is happening to Marvin. If you do not and try to escape… we will treat you as the criminals you are and take the actions necessary to put you both back in jail.” Mare rolled his eyes, “Yeah yeah, stiff- whatever! Just get us out of here! My brother is fucking dying!”
Jackie and Schneep make eye contact before the doctor gives the okay. Jackie readies to smash the orb on the floor-But Jamie quickly stops him. He then signs, “Perhaps I can offer some assistance?”
The hero looks confused but he offers the ball to Jameson regardless. The gentleman smiles in appreciation then holds both his hands over the glass. He closes his eyes and focuses- teal light travels up the glass and coats the orb. Then, a flash of teal light rockets across to the empty space in the room and from the light forms Mare and Phantom in the same position they were in inside the orb.
Chase whistles, “Nice work J! ...now we won’t have to step on broken glass!”
Mare takes in a deep breath and looks over his extremely pale brother, who is breathing heavily and can barely keep open his dull eyes. He then shoots up to his feet and tries to make it to the back rooms of the shop.
Jackie beats him though and holds out his arms to stop him, his eyes flaring blue. “Where do you think you’re going?”
The dark ego bares his teeth ferally and pushes into Jackie’s face. “Out of my fucking way. Hero! You might not care but we were in there for a week! And those orbs absorb magic- it’s been sucking my brother dry for days! So- if you’ll excuse me I’m gonna get him something to make sure he’s alive for your fucking interrogation- is that okay with you?!”
The red hooded hero stands speechless and just steps aside, letting his arms fall as he nods. Mare doesn’t waste a second to rush past him.
There’s the sound of rustling and glass bottles hitting the floor before NateMare rushes back out and skids on his knees to be back by Phantom’s side. He cradles the other figment’s head and gently lowers a bright red glowing potion to his lips. The second the liquid meets his lips, Phantom’s eyes shoot open and glow red as he gasps. His back arches and he almost seems like he’s in pain but Mare just holds on tighter and dumps the rest of the potion into his mouth.
“I know…” He whispers, “Just- hold on, okay Phan? This will help, I promise…”
The other egos watch with bated breath.
Eventually the last drop falls into Phantom’s mouth and Mare takes the bottle away. Phantom pants like a man dehydrated finally offered a drink. His eyes burn red and for a second it seems like nothing happened. Then, the red blooms on his skin- in his veins, and travels across his body. The demon shudders and grits his teeth but as the magic flows, his pallor returning to normal. Finally, he sags in Mare’s grip and starts to breathe at a more regular pace. He weakly smiles up to his brother. They don’t exchange words, just simple nods but… it seems like Phantom was trying to say thank you. Phantom then turns and seems to remember they have company. He sighs and groans as he pushes himself up. He’s a bit unsteady but soon he’s standing tall again. He opens up his palm and from the ground, his staff comes rushing out and into his grip. He spins it then slams it to the ground to lean on. He eyes the company of Septic egos as he pushes back his hair.
“Forgive my… haggard appearance. Your brother… managed to do quite a number on me.”
“So, you know what happened to him? He was here?” Jackie asks eagerly. Phantom raises a hand to silence him.
“I will answer all your questions… but only if you let Mare go to rest. He does not have any answers for you and... He hasn’t been able to eat or drink since we were imprisoned… I did what I could but.. I survive on magic. He does not.”
The egos look at each other before nodding in understanding. Phantom nods to his brother, “Go. I’ll check up on you later.”
Mare seems hesitant to leave- but after a stern look from his brother he purses his lips but retreats to the back rooms regardless.
Jackie quickly pipes back up as soon as the curtains close behind him, “So- Marvin? He was here?”
Phantom nods, “Yes, he was here. He was the one who trapped us.” He then looks to Jackie and raises an eyebrow, “Said the act was… what you would call Justice.” He then shrugs and sighs, going to fall against one of the armchairs in the room. “Which I guess is fair-”
The hero’s gaze hardens as he hisses, “He doesn’t speak for me. I wouldn’t have done something like that.”
The red demon raises his head in slight surprise, then he smirks, “Oh~ I sense a bit of in-fighting?”
The air in the room gets tense as all the egos shuffle and cough. “Uh.. you could definitely say that-” Chase mutters.
Phantom hums and goes to lean forward in his chair, tapping his fingers against his orb. “...I already had my suspicions… and since you all are here for answers… why don’t you fill me in on what mischief my darling little apprentice has gotten himself into?”
“Don’t call him that-” A speech slide darts in front of Phantom’s vision followed by a serious looking Jameson. He frowns and pops up another slide once he’s gotten Phantom’s attention, “He is not yours. Not anymore.”
The demon blinks then chuckles and shakes his head, “I suppose you’re right, Jackson.”
Suddenly, the air turns electric as a groan of annoyance sounds from Jameson’s phone. Glitches fly out of his pocket and soon Anti’s fizzly form splays across one of the couches as he throws out his limbs in exasperation. “Jesus christ yall can blabber! Can we get on with this already?! Or need I remind you kitten whiskers literally has all our lives on the line?!”
Phantom jumps and somewhat curls up in his chair, trying to hide the fear in his eyes. “...w...what is he doing here?”
Anti blinks then grins wolfishly at Phantom, “Well hello to you too pretty boy- still not over our last encounter I see?” He laughs madly.
Jackie sighs then points to Anti with his thumb, “He’s the start of this whole thing. Plus… Marvin is targeting him.”
This peaks the con-man’s interest. He knits his eyebrows together and gathers his composure, leaning all his weight on his staff and linking his fingers. “...Enlighten me.”
The Septic egos then take their time to explain everything: Anti’s kidnapping of Marvin. The state of Jack. Marvin’s memory loss- his behavior after being rescued. How all that changed suddenly. His manipulation of Jameson. The book- the nighttime encounter in Jackie’s apartment. Jackie and Marvin’s fight. The criminals he killed. The veins and purple magic and eyes- the smoke that seemed to coat everything black. The hospital… how Marvin took Jack. Phantom listens intently. After they’re done he sighs and brushes back in his hair, looking towards the bookshelf behind him. “..it’s as I feared.”
He looks over the boys then stands up to address them, “... this time I am not the source of Marvin’s problem. In fact… I fear the problem may have sprouted from inside him.”
“What?” Henrik asks, “What does that mean?”
“Yeah- this… this doesn’t seem like Marvin’s magic at all! He.. he’s good! That’s how Jack made him- so how could this come from him?” Jackie shouts, looking angry.
Phantom holds up a hand to silence them. “I’m not saying this just happened randomly… but you must know this. Magic deals in absolutes.”
He then holds his hand over his orb and starts to dance his fingers in the air over it. White light comes from the orb and starts to dance in the air.
“In our world- Light magic is the prominent force. All magic stems from it. Because typically, magic is used to help or heal. Like… superpowers. They are a form of light magic. When magic first began… it was only used for good. However, humanity is selfish. And with selfishness comes the other side of magic… dark magic… black magic. Black magic is an invader- it was not made to exist here. But- through selfish desires and evil intentions it entered into our world. And… black magic is not like the light. It is constantly hungry- because it knows it does not belong here. It seeks to devour all sources of light and life. Even it’s users… it either devours them whole- or uses them to draw more people into darkness.”
Anti rolls his eyes, “Alright Merlin, thanks for the magic lesson. What’s all this bullshit gotta do with this?”
Phantom huffs and grips his staff, “I’m getting to that. But since you so kindly interrupted me, I’ll be blunt with you.” He points his staff at Anti. “You, glitch, are the catalyst for Marvin’s transformation.”
The glitch sputters, his form buzzing with static as he sits up, “What the fuck?! How is this my fault- I didn’t do anything to whisker’s magic! I’m not even magic myself!”
Phantom laughs and shakes his head, “All figments are filled with some form of magic. Or we wouldn’t exist.
But that’s besides the point for now. Remind me again, Anti, what is it you had Marvin do while in your capture?”
All the egos turn cold eyes on Anti. The glitch almost looks guilty as he crosses his arms and looks away from his audience. “I… forced him to put Jack to sleep.” Then he shakes his head and throws out his hands, “But that’s it! I didn’t touch him- I didn’t possess him or corrupt him or anything!”
Phantom nods and floats fingers through the white light still floating in the air. “Perhaps you didn’t… but you provided the spark.”
He opens his arms to the light, “Pretend if you will- this is Marvin’s core. His center of magic- his soul. Jackie mentioned earlier- your creator made Marvin to be good. So- that’s what his core is. A source of light magic.”
He then snaps and a pure black flame ignites on his fingertip. “Now- if I add a spark of black magic…” He lowers the black flame into the white light.
The light almost instantly begins to be eaten by the black. The black spears through the light like a hungry predator until all that’s left floating in the air in a bubble of black, sparking with purple power.
The septics watch with horror.
“...that’s... what's happening to Marvin?” Chase asks in a small voice.
“...it is a slower process but yes.” Phantom nods. He leans back into his chair and snaps the magic out of the air.
“Since Marvin’s core is good, any type of spell that goes against his nature could possibly change his entire magical alignment. What most likely happened is… whatever spell he used on Jack was enough to spark a dark magic takeover.”
“...But- Marvin has used darker magic before.” Jameson points out, “**Like when he’s been possessed by Antisepticeye- or… his last encounter with you. How come that didn’t trigger his magic to change?” **
Phantom hums with a smile, “A good question, Jackson. While under possession, Marvin’s magic is not entirely his own. When under my control- I fueled him with my own magic. It’s like… dye in water. It can leave the water stained sure- but eventually it will return to what it was because of the constant flow. Magic is fueled by the soul- so as long as Marvin is alive, his magic refuels itself. So even if it was changed momentarily by an outside source- it should go back to what his core was.”
“...the community-” Anti suddenly mumbles. Everyone looks to him with curiosity.
“...yes, Anti?” Phantom raises an eyebrow.
The glitch scowls then turns to face the other demon. “Jack’s community. Does that count as an outside source? Because I swear that Magician’s purpose has been flip-flopping around so much because they can’t make up their goddamn minds on what side he should be on. All this magic bullshit- does it really matter when Jack and the community has so much pull on our characters?”
The air is silent while the room takes in this information. Phantom smiles and leans back. “Hm- I can’t say for certain… though me and Mare are influenced by our community as well- each figments story is different. Me and Mare were made to be evil so… there’s not much we can do to change that.”
He then points his staff at some of the septics, partially Jameson and Schneep. “However- that is why I’ve found you septics so… fascinating. Even if Jack made you one way… the fandom can change you. Like how our beloved Doctor was once considered to be on the Glitch’s side… or how Mr. Jackson seemed to be free of corruption because of the fandom’s love… until it was revealed he was a puppet all along.”
Schneep nervously rubs his neck and looks away, shuddering at the memories from that time. “...that… I..I do remember… being changed by them. Forced to be someone else… until Jack set the record straight.”
Jamie is silent, playing with his hands and looking at the ground. His wrists hidden under his sleeves- his strings out of sight. Phantom smiles to himself, “That’s why I’ve always been so fascinated by my Magnificent… he’s so easily swayed. His alignment is so back and forth. He could be anything. He could become anyone.” 
“Okay so- why isn’t this they’re fault, magic man?” Anti suddenly sneers, “Why isn’t this debacle their fault?! They almost have as much power as Jack does! Why aren’t they responsible?”
Phantom scratches his chin and taps his specter thoughtfully, “...I don’t think we can rule out their influence entirely. But… Marvin hasn’t been the star of the show for a quite a long time, yes? So… a change this sudden could only be explained by new lore from Jack. and… since he’s asleep.” The demon looks pointedly at Anti and raises an eyebrow. Anti grumbles and folds his arms again, sinking into the couch.
Jackie sighs and sits down, holding out his hands, “Okay so- let’s recap… because Anti made Marvin put Jack to sleep- that magic he used started to change his core. It went from light magic to black magic because black magic is a greedy bastard- so it’s changing Marvin… which is why he… he did all the things he did… right?”
The red clad demon nods, “Correct. Since the magic is an invader… one could say it’s possessing your brother. But- it won’t take much for it to grab control and change him permanently. He was already starting… what he was doing to those thugs is classic black magic. Feeding off life forces helps to fuel the black magic even faster. There’s nothing more selfish or evil than taking a life. ...Marvin’s actions might not entirely be his own- this all could be the black magic working to take over Marvin’s core faster. Especially since he did not choose to use that magic that sparked this in the first place… It’s manipulating him.”
Jackie seems to light up slightly. He smiles to himself and whispers, “...i..I knew it- I knew this couldn’t be Marvin… not really.”
“So what can we do to stop this? To save him?” Chase brings up. “We gotta stop him before this thing eats him- or Jack!”
Phantom is quiet for a second before sighing, “...that.. I do not know.”
“What?!” Jackie exclaims as he jumps to his feet, eyes burning. “You- You know all of this but you don’t know how to save him?! What the fuck?!”
The demon just raises an eyebrow, “Hero. I collect souls to survive. My core thrives off dark magic. I may know how it works… but I don’t know how to stop the process.” He then sighs and looks around. “I can give you advice though… that book. He stole it from me. It is a source of black magic itself- and it reacts to the user. It will do anything in its power to keep Marvin reliant on its spells. It will only hasten his corruption so… try to keep it away from him. Seal it away… it can’t be destroyed except by the purest of light magic.
Also- beware him collecting a large group of people. The magic inside him is going to be looking for the largest amount of souls it can corrupt. And… if he succeeds…. It will be too late. Your brother will be consumed. And they’ll be no going back.”
The air grows heavy at this news and the others exchange worried glances. The con-man watches before rising to his feet. “I’ve given you all the information I can… I would use it quickly if you want to save Marvin. Every second wasted is him getting closer to being consumed.”
The others look at each other then nod. “Alright… thank you Phantom.”
“As promised… we will not bother you and Natemare.” Schneep adds, adjusting his coat as he gets to his feet. He gestures to the others and starts to head for the door. Anti watches from the couch, seeming to be deep in thought.
Before Jackie can join the others however, Phantom lightly grabs his wrist to stop him. The hero looks back with confusion. The dark magician looks… almost bashful. He opens and closes his mouth several times before whispering out in sincerity, “... I know there is a lot at stake but… please Jackieboy… save my Magnificent.”
Jackie balks at this- then slowly his eyes start to burn with anger. He throws Phantom’s hand off him and grabs the figment by his vest and throws him against one of the pillars making up the walls.
“Are you fucking serious?! Your magnificent?! He isn’t your property asshole! After all of this- after all he’s been through you still think you get to stand here and be selfish?! To think about how you’re going to use him next?! If you so much as breathe near him again I swear to god i’ll-!”
Phantom just sits there and takes it- looking Jackie in the face. Jackie pants and growls, pushing Phantom more up against the wall when words fail him. The demon winces then opens one eye to look at Jackie.
“Are you done? Can i say my piece now?”
Jackie bares his teeth, ‘What could you possibly have to say to that? Gonna manipulate me with your fucking smoke to make me think you were in the right all this time? That you were helping him? That you ever cared for him at all as an apprentice?!”
“I DID CARE!” Phantom suddenly shouts, pushing back in Jackie’s face and blasting out enough magic to get Jackie to let go. Jackie stumbles back and narrows his eyes at Phantom as the demon dusts himself off and straightens his vest.
“...or… I do care. ...I think-” He sighs and lowers his gaze to the hero. “...I’m not like you and your family, Jackie. I wasn’t made to be good. I was made to manipulate and to steal. To trick. So… of course that was my purpose when I first took your brother in all those years ago…
However, despite my nature… i believe I developed a… soft spot for him. I… didn’t know how to interpret those feelings. I thought it was a need to fully control him- to make him mine. But… even that wasn’t enough. I couldn’t understand.”
He then sighs and picks his specter off the ground, going to twist it thoughtfully between his fingers. “But… all that time spent in that orb… enduring the same thing I made him endure… I was able to think. ...to maybe realize it was more than that need of control. That… maybe- the very small part of me that’s human… maybe that part actually cared for him. ...like how I care for Mare.”
Jackie’s hard expression softens slightly, looking to Phantom in confusion. The demon doesn’t meet his eyes as he chuckles bitterly.
“...I fought it for a while but… he was different than my other cons. He was… the first one just like me. A fellow figment just...looking for a place in the world. Of course… my purpose had to be fulfilled… a creation can’t deny its reason for existing. But… for a while… I couldn’t. Not to him. Maybe that’s why it took me so many years to finally hunt him down…”
He shakes his head then ventures to his bookshelf, going to open a small ornate chest. He digs inside then pulls out a white object and holds it in his hands while turned away from Jackie, rubbing his fingers against the surface.
“You know… there’s one thing I know about light magic… why you heroes and goody-two-shoes always best us in the end.” He laughs and turns to Jackie, handing the item to him.
It’s a blank white cat mask.
Jackie’s eyes widen as he takes it and then he looks to Phantom, who’s smiling bitterly.
“...it’s your ability to be positive. To believe in each other. To have things and memories that… keep the darkness away. ...perhaps that can help you.”
The demon looks to the ceiling almost wistfully, “I know… anything involved with me is tainted now. And… Marvin will never want anything to do with me again. I’m.. okay with that. But… maybe that mask… can remind him of when magic was good to him. When his love for magic was pure and child-like… perhaps it can save him from the dark.”
Jackie is speechless once again. He looks down at the mask and rubs his thumb against the edge. He can imagine Marvin when he first met him- when he first took off his distrustful shell and started to open up. How happy and mischievous and carefree he was. Did he actually feel that way with Phantom once?
“...you really do care about him..” Jackie pipes up quietly. Phantom smiles and shrugs.
“...I can’t say for sure. But… i do hope you save him. Really…” He sighs and looks back to Jackie seriously, “If he survives… I will leave him be. I will not hunt him down again… I will consider all his debts paid.”
Jackie’s eyebrows raise in surprise. Then, he laughs slightly and puts the mask in his backpack. He straightens the straps and turns to go- but not before giving one last look to Phantom.
“Hey- maybe there’s a little light in you after all Phantom.”
Phantom snorts, “Don’t get mushy on me, hero. You’ll make me more sick than I already am.”
Jackie laughs and shrugs, “Fair enough. Well… thanks.”
“Just get out of here, Jackieboy- don’t waste what little time you have with pleasantries.” Phantom grumbles, going to head towards the back room. “And… good luck.”
The hero nods and grins before hurrying out of the store and back into daylight.
However, he’s quickly met with a panicking Schneep and Chase who are on him in a second.
“Jackie! Oh god- oh shit this is bad!” Chase whimpers.
“What? What happened? What’s wrong??”
Schneep meets Jackie’s eyes, his own filled with fear.
“...Anti has disappeared. And he took Jameson with him.”
“...son of a bitch-?!”
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the-tiniest-one · 3 years ago
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Late Night Office Visit: Confessions of the Copy Ninja
Kakashi X Reader
This is my first post so go easy on me. Its just a little fluffy/smut I wrote while thinking about it. Tell me what you think and thank you so much for reading!
***
Your office is tinted in soft warm light from the small lamp by your desk. A candle burning near your desk is scented for the fall season, October is here in the village and it’s starting to get chilly. You had dressed comfortably for work, an over-sized lavender hoody and long black leggings that covered your socked feet with knitted dark grey boots. Your (h/l,h/c) in a messy bun.
It’s no secret that Kakashi is a man of routine.
 His routine had recently begun to include trips to your office. Usually to tease you. You being a night owl, around 1am like clockwork when he was home from missions, he will indulge in a “random and unplanned”, unannounced visit, usually involving some kind of failed attempt at sneaking in and trying his best at scaring you. You expect his shit by now though. 
During his visit both you and he compete to best the other in a battle of “who can make the other blush” during the private office conversations.
“So why are you always working so late” kakashi asked, wandering around the office, picking up a book from the shelf and thumbing it lazily. “Dont you have a boyfriend to go home to?”
The question was bold.
“No”. A short yet devilishly innocent sounding reply from you, while looking at your mound of papers littering your desk, followed by deafening silence.
“What a shame” Kakashi says almost no variation in tone.
The tension is strangling you. 
Feeling a little bit bold as well, you decide to lay the innocent act on as thick as possible 
“I guess it is a shame. It gets so lonely in my little apartment...If only I had someone to come home to... It’s too bad. I bet you probably have lots of company waiting for you to get home and keep them warm.” you reply with a grin.  
Standing and walking over to the large window Kakashi came into the office through, leaning forward to close it, the cool October air giving you a chill.
Turning around, almost in an instant, Kakashi was behind you. Wrapping both hands in your hair with breath taking tenderness. His lips pressing against yours….expressing desperation and need. You had been dreaming of this moment for months, your tongue pushing through his lips first. Both of you searching for security in each others kiss. 
When he pulled back to look at you, you kept your eyes closed for a moment. savoring the first time. 
The first time that you knew, as silly as it sounded....As much as you hated the idea that you could be so deeply invested before his lips ever touched yours....the first time that the man you could feel in your blood was your perfect match...Your soulmate kissed your lips.
When you did finally open your eyes, the worried look carved across his perfect masked features was too clear. “Was that okay?” he asked, clearly worried to hear the answer.
Without verbally responding, you crashed into his lips again. This time wrapping your legs around his waist and pushing your hands through his unruly hair.
Within seconds your back hit the desk gently, his hands wandering under your hoody. His calloused thumbs running over your nipples, causing you to moan quietly into his open mouth.
His lips left yours quickly finding your jawline, just behind your ear, “I have wanted to kiss you from the instant that I first saw you”. he whispered.
You blushed... “six months does feel like a long time” you respond quietly.
He stops kissing for a moment to look at you inquisitively, (your tits still fully engulfed in his large hands). “6 months?” he asks confused.
“Yeah, when we first met?” You reply slightly embarrassed by his exasperated expression. 
He looks at you with even more embarrassment and his soul bared just under the surface of his clear pretty eyes,
 “Oh, well uh...you see, I was talking about the very first time that I first saw you...like ever ...back at the Academy.” Said Kakashi
“What” you said, thinking back....Kakashi, and the other mutual friends you two shared from his graduating class like Guy and Asuma.... were two years above you. You cant remember ever having seen him at the Academy or even when you and your team had grown and gone on countless missions together. You would remember him, you know it. It wasn't as though he wasn't around...He was just such a private guy (and you were a private girl), and he had spent so many years in the special ANBU division or...away from other people in general. 
Even though you’d never met in person until about 6 months ago, you’d heard of the famous copy ninja almost your whole life. His sinister reputation was known throughout the hidden nations.
“How long?” you ask breathless...nervous to hear the answer.
“Hmmm lets see...I guess it would be the day you graduated from the Academy... I was passing by, headed to turn in a mission report when they posted the list.” he replied in a more confident tone.
“I watched you never stop to check it. You already knew you made it. Everyone else clamoring for a look at the list, and I heard you tell another student...”Im going to become a chunin, then a jonin, then Hokage. To protect the person I love someday”. 
Your stomach did somersaults. You remembered the moment he was quoting..... but as hard as you tried to place him, he wasn’t there in your memory of that day.
 Head spinning... you were an early academy graduate, 8 years old when you made genin. You were 27 now….That means Kakashi Hatake has loved you almost your entire life...without you ever having met you. 
You forced him back down onto your lips while simultaneously unzipping his flack jacket. Then pulling his shirt over his head to reveal his perfect torso.
He undressed you however, much more slow and methodically, only a bra under your hoody, quickly unclasping it and throwing it to the side. Then your leggings, finally while kissing down your neck to your breasts, he pulled your panties off and put them in his pocket.
His mouth making slow circles around your nipples. You noticed how wet you were when his right hand slid from your tits to your hip, then to your slit...he giggled as he quickly fingered and teased the outside of your soaked pussy.
“Please kashi” you gasped, maybe louder than you wanted for the office building you were currently being ravaged in.
His slow kisses moved down to your panty line. Lips dancing along your skin in perfect rhythm with his hands teasing you. 
“Please what?” he asked with an almost stern inflection
At first you didnt reply, only writhing under him.
But the shock of a slap on your inner thigh made you almost scream with desire.
“Please what” he asked again while resuming the kisses to your belly.
Please let me cum you said, almost at a whisper.
Just like that his mouth was on you. Licking your clit at first, an eternity of teasing you nearly to tears. Then he started sucking you with a ferocity that bordered on desperation.
You were a mess. You couldn’t even begin to form coherent thoughts when you felt his tip graze your pussy lips.
“You looked into his eyes, and he waited for confirmation.”
The second you nodded he began. Slowly dipping in and out, first the tip, then slowly incorporating more of himself. Making sure you were comfortably adjusted before adding another half inch or so. The care in which he conducted himself was nothing short of impressive...however it was driving you insane. You needed to be fucked. You wrapped your legs around him, forcing him as deep as he would go, catching him off guard...if only due to his extreme focus on your perfect pussy.
He gasped at the sudden tight warmth around his cock, looking up at you as you rocked your hips to help him along.
It didnt take more than a minute at most before you laced your hand into his…
“Im so close, kashi...can I please cum?”
Surprised and fully turned on by the request, his thumb hit your clit, fast circles helping you along.
“Cum on my cock (y/n). I want your pretty pussy to cum for me”
And like that you snapped, quivering and writhing on your desk while he followed almost immediately, soaking your insides with his hot seed.
You laid motionless, gasping for air and seeing stars….
He kissed your nipples again, still inside you,  making you jump from the overstimulation.
Finally resting on your chest while your hands wandered through his hair.
“I wanted to do that for an eternity” he said still catching his breath.
“Well I let me grant that wish” you say with a giggle. “An eternity it is”.
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jenosslut · 4 years ago
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sugary euphoria
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pairings: mark lee x fem!reader
genre/s: fluff, suggestive, angst, romance
details: strangers to lovers!au, high school!au
warnings: suggestive content, suggestive humor, explict language
word count: 3k
synopsis: where two sunset lovers experience feelings they never knew existed through the journey of adolescence.
a/n: i absolutely hate how this turned out im so sorry. a special thank you to @navyhyuck, @heartyyjeno and @neojaems for beta reading this. an even more special thank you to @hunjins for always believing in me no matter what.
taglist: @hunjins @neovrse @mrkcore @moonbeamsung @jjikyuu @mellowvoidexpertfriend
couldn’t tag: @markslovelymaid
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02.09.2016
you got me breathless, got me begging you to drive me insane
The weather stays warm, in hopes of smiling on everyone. The buoyant sun rays travel directly into the brunette’s eyes, though he doesn’t whine in exasperation like many would do as he is surrounded by his most favored people.
Ecstatic is how he feels around people he loves, and Mark absolutely adores his friends. Those six people- whom he labels as ‘idiots’- aid him to hold onto an endless amount of belligerent days, especially at school.
Even though Mark isn’t exactly the best with words and doesn’t prefer to demonstrate verbal affection, the legitimately adorable laugh escaping his lips whenever he’s around them is enough to let everyone acknowledge the amount of adoration he holds for the six boys.
“Are there two butts or one butt?” He hears Donghyuck question, who has an over dramatically serious expression accompanied with lips shaped in a pout pressed on his face.
“One butt Dongfuck, one butt.” Renjun is the one to respond between gritted teeth and heavy breath, thoroughly devastated with the unnecessary discussions Donghyuck never seems to leave alone.
“There’s two! They’re separate!” Chenle exclaims in an avoidably resounding manner, causing a couple heads to involuntarily shoot towards their direction in inquisitiveness; silently judging the group of boys.
“Why are we having this conversation again?” Jeno states, wrapping his arm around Jisung’s shoulder who happens to nod, displaying agreement in the older’s words.
“Ask Dongtruck.” Renjun says, raising his arms upwards in defence.
“Yeah ask Dongtruck- wait what?” Donghyuck continues, then widens his eyes at the realization; turning his head towards Renjun as his jaw commences to part.
“I’m selling a Dingdong for free, contact me for details!” Chenle screechs, throwing his hands towards the air as the boys surrounding his figure stare at him in incredulity. Many people’s attention switch onto the group of boys again, allowing them- except Chenle- to give reactions out of embarrassment.
“When will you learn to like, shut the fuck up?” Renjun silently shouts at Chenle’s face in exasperation, biting his bottom lip as he runs his hand in between his hair.
“We’re supposed to bully Yuckie here, not me! Gosh, what a traitor.” Chenle responds, letting a dramatic sigh escape his lips, poking his tongue inside his cheek.
“If only you used the creativity you use for Hyuck’s nicknames for pragmatic reasons.” Jeno states, shaking his head.
“How do you even know what pragmatic means?” Mark questions- more to himself- in a lower tone, glancing at Jeno.
“I’m not Renjun, Mark.” Jeno replies, patting Mark’s back as Mark nods at his friend’s words.
The moment Mark Lee turns his head towards the side, his eyes witness a smile; looking dazzling as ever. The sight of you standing exquisite, the most guilelessly enticing expression sitting delicately on your features is enough to cast anyone under your spell.
Your friend says something, you laugh again. Your eyes meet as you involuntarily turn your head towards his direction. Mark’s breath gets caught in his throat, thoroughly overwhelmed. You send him a wave, then boom.
Spark.
Mark Lee bewitches under your spell.
13.11.2016
I see rainbows when i think of us
First Date
First dates are cute, adorably delighting. Kind of awkward. But that’s fine, because it’s delirious. Maybe not euphoric, but definitely a form of ecstasy.
A new experience, a new person. Something contrasting, something exciting.
It’s not the transcendence that makes it appealing, because no first date is perfect. It’s the imperfection, the sheepish smiles shared throughout the day, the embarrassing-feeling sentences that appear cuter than embarrassing.
Maybe the occasion is cliché, maybe it’s not worth enough to be included in a million-selling novel. But the experience is worth it. A simple exchange of ice cream flavors, simple exchanges of words as you amble around a keenly alive park. Cliché, but new. Cliché, but delighting.
Things are a bit less expected in Mark’s case.
The arid leaves fall as a gospel choir, harmonized in such a way that celebrates each hue and shows how they complete each other. The fallen leaves create an alluring pathway as you amble exquisite with Mark besides your figure, hand in hand.
“I think i’m seeing rainbows.” You state breathily, head falling on top of Mark’s shoulder; coming in contact with the soft fabric of his maroon jacket.
“Where? It’s dark though, i don’t think that’s possible,” Mark responds, his eyes scanning through the sky involuntarily as he takes your words legitimately.
“It didn’t rain, it’s not sunny either.” He continues on analyzing his surroundings, not exactly sure of what you meant with the words you had previously put together.
“You make me see rainbows.” You smile, astonished at his oblivious nature.
“How do i do that?” He asks, eyes slightly wide as his lips unintentionally form a small pout.
“I was trying to be poetic, Mark. I know it was bad, you could've just gone along with it.” You let out a playful scoff, the small yet absolute smile continuing its appearance on your lips.
“No no it wasn't bad, i just-” He rambles.
“Oh my god, i’m joking. Calm down, i was just trying to say how you made me happy.” You let out a full hearted laugh this time, clearly amused.
“Oh…” Is all that Mark lets out at the realization, head turning towards the side in embarrassment as his heart skips a beat.
Cute, you think to yourself.
And yes, Mark Lee is indeed an adorable boy who enchants you in even more bewitching experiences.
01.02.201
I love the way I light up when you call me
Your feet play with the treacherously empty and dry looking sand while concentrating on the undulating sound of the shallow turquoise ocean. The majestic ocean seems to be wrapped in a darker color, which could easily be blamed on the endless darkness of the sky caused by the time being nearly five in the morning.
Your head lays on Mark’s shoulder while the jacket he had given you minutes prior- insisting that you were shivering- sits on your shoulders. He holds your body close to his own, feeling an- what he labels as- unreasonable urge to protect you from anything that could occur.
You sit there, a serene feeling captivating you as you listen to each other's alleviating breaths and heartbeats. You throw small sets of words here and there to create some type of a conversation, delighting in the consolatory atmosphere.
"Your heart is beating so fast." You softly speak in incredulity, eyes slightly wide at the unanticipated moment.
Mark widens his eyes, a sheepish smile commencing to play on his lips. He starts mumbling and stuttering as he tries to put together meaningful words, though they don’t make any sense to say the least.
“Mine is beating fast too, if that makes you feel better.” You don’t know where the sudden confidence comes from, yet you keep on staring right into his sparkling orbs with your own; the most ravishing smile sitting buoyantly on your lips.
Mark muttres out a few “Oh”s before lazing his visibly tensed body, slowly melting in your arms as you pull his body even closer to your own.
As the sun begins to rise, a song along with a valse melody commences to play out of the speakers Mark had brought. You softly grab the brunette’s hand, taking it into your own; signaling him to dance with a playful smile on your face.
Mark lifts himself upwards as the sheepish smile from earlier commences to display its appearance back on his features. He uses some help from your hand as he lets out a nervous chuckle, youthful hysteria running through his body.
The two of you sway your bodies according to the mellifluous melody rhyming behind. You recline your head on Mark’s chest, getting into a more comfortable position.
"You're beautiful." Mark’s graceful sounding whisper is heard clearly in your right ear after finally gathering up the courage to state a compliment, causing the smile on your lips to grow uncontrollably.
Before leaning in, you go through a whole debate about whether to kiss him or not inside your head. Finally, you lean in; mixing both of your uniquely ambrosial scents as you catch his lips in between your own.
Although the kiss isn’t exactly perfect, the experience is.
“Be my girlfriend?” Mark asks in a whisper as he uses his right hand to keep your chin up, staring right inside your eyes fervently.
“Yeah.” You whisper back with a heavy breath, not able to control the smile growing on your lips.
The newly rising sun accompanies your bodies as you try to move your lips against each other’s in the middle of a beach. Youthful giggles get thrown around as you share your first kiss, a feeling unfamiliarly intriguing enchanting you.
Maybe, maybe you had a future with Mark. Maybe he was someone who would be there for you during your worst nightmares, a shoulder to cry on after calamitous fights, a soul to share your overwhelming ecstasy with.
Though, you don't know that just yet. You never know what the future holds for you. So you completely give your all to him, living through each second of one of the many euphoric moments you share.
Mayhaps this is the beginning of a new journey...
14.03.2017
I lose my mind when you whisper sweet nothings
Gratuitously, Mark guides your body towards his bedroom; hands all over each other’s bodies as giggles out of hysteria escape your lips. You run your hands through his brown locks, plunking them eagerly as your already plumped lips messily move against each other’s.
Mark lets out another breathy giggle as your noses brush, your hands traveling on his body. Your hands find their way towards the hem of his shirt, fingers fiddling with it; contemplating on whether to take it off or not.
Mark gives you a short nod, displaying approval within his actions as he sends you an adorable smile. You glance upwards to steal a glance from his features, only to get lost inside his doe orbs; sparkling in youthful enthusiasm.
He pushes your body onto his bed, trying to be as meticulous as he could. He helps you slide his shirt off as the kiss gets even messier. After unintentionally biting his bottom lip, you mutter out multiple apologies as Mark assures you; running his hands through your hair soothingly.
He pulls your body onto his lap, blushing when he sees your eyes glued onto his upper body. Your eyes meet when you move your head, both shying away at the shared stare. You land him a kiss, on his cheek instead of his lips. Giggles continuously flow through both of your lips as you keep on planting kisses on his cheeks.
Your lips land on his nose on accident when attempting to shower him in sweet cheek kisses, allowing another giggle out of timidity to be shared.
“I love you, like a lot.” Mark whispers admiringly, the adorably sheepish smile never washing away from his lips as the first ever “I love you” effortlessly falls out. You involuntarily smile at the statement, melting into his honeyed words.
“I love you too.” You whisper back, exchanging the specific three words for the first time.
You spend your night blissfully, not precisely knowing what you are doing. Yet you sure are delightful inside Mark’s tight embrace, heart clenching inside your chest at every amiable touch.
23.05.2017
You’re my favorite mistake
“Mark,” You speak out, fidgeting on his bed uncomfortably as your fingers fiddle with the hem of your skirt.
“Yes, baby?” Mark replies; not exactly paying the most attention as his eyes stay still on the laptop seated on his desk, trying to get an essay done.
“Love, are you okay?” He questions when you don’t respond, diverting is doe orbs towards your direction.
“I’m leaving,” You say as your teeth immediately find their way towards your bottom lip, biting and peeling the skin off in apprehension.
“For university, i’m moving.” You continue, explaining yourself when he doesn’t display any type of reaction.
Mark finally lets out a small yet heavy “When” as his lips part, staring at you dispiritedly.
“This sunday.” You reply faintly after a pause.
“And you decide to tell me about it now? Three days before you leave?” Mark’s eyes go wide as his voice raises, visibly accustomed.
“Calm down.” You attempt to calm him down, though it doesn’t exactly work as he shouts even louder each time he parts his lips.
“Do you even care about my feelings?” Mark clamors.
“Mark, what are you saying?” You ask in incredulity, aching to believe you didn’t hear him accurately.
“Look Y/n, I support whatever you do. But not when you tell me right before it happens!” He continues as a scoff out of mockery follows his words.
“I’m sorry i just-” You start rambling, not having an idea on how to ease his emotions.
“A sorry doesn’t fix everything!” He extends, not allowing you to speak.
“I know-”
“Good that you know! I hope you don’t make the same mistake next time with someone else.”
“Someone else? Mark, are you seriously breaking up with me over this?” You ask as a feeling of overwhelming incredulity captures you. His words allow your eyes to widen as your lips part afterwards.
“What’s there to not break up over, Y/n? How do you expect to continue this once you’re away?” He shouts again, making you pause.
“Okay, i wish you the best.” You state with a shaky voice as tears commence to gliss up inside your eyes, causing them to look glossy. You try your best to not blink, holding your tears in.
You can’t cry. No, you can’t cry in front of him.
So you get up and leave.
--
You are still young.
Not everything lasts, not everything is meant to last.
Each moment is worth living without allowing a knot to form inside your stomach in worry. Experiences have reasons, purposes. So do you, you have a purpose. Cry your heart out after agonizing fights, laugh in delight with all you’ve got; enchanted in an overwhelming euphoria.
You are shaped by awkward encounters, innocently sheepish grins, pernicious altercations, anguished tears. Mistakes you make at eighteen become experiences you thank at thirty.
Sugary moments come to an end, so do the bitter ones. Nothing is permanent, nothing is promised. You can’t live with worry, you can’t live in pain.
Life is short, short enough for you to give each moment a chance. Short enough to feel everything, to live and not just exist.
Somewhere out there, there’s someone for you. Someone willing to cherish all your imperfections, someone willing to shower you in love as immense adoration dances in their sparkling orbs.
Love...love is alluring, fascinating, breathtakingly dazzling. There’s so much to explore within love, so much to explore within a person. New euphoric moments to be shared, new eyes to get lost in, new hearts to beat together.
Love with all you have, give people every ounce of what they deserve without worrying about the ending. Every moment comes to an end. Every kiss has a final share, every breakdown has a final tear.
There is a beginning to each journey, there’s also an ending to those journeys. No time is worth spending cooped up in your room with tears drenching on your features, no time is worth contemplating on whether or not to do something in worry.
Although this is an anguished ending to the previous chapter, it’s a sugary euphoric beginning for another one...
138 notes · View notes
simpsiren · 4 years ago
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Not every day.
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wong yukhei x reader
description. After coming home from a failed date, I found a stranger drinking and sitting on my sofa. The stranger explained that he’s a Cupid and he’s about to get fired because of my inability to get a second date.
genre. angst, fluff, cupid au
word count. 1.5k~
warnings. nonee
a/n. struggled with coming up an idea and i just saw this prompt so i decided to use it chxndndn i might have a continuation since this is interesting in my opinion but we’ll see since im starting to get hella busy :( but ENJOY!
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I found myself dragging my feet down the dark streets of my town. How’d I even end up here? I was having a date with the guy I met on Instagram just a few hours ago. I scoffed to myself, thinking about how I got dumped yet again. I dated him for at least three months. And just like that, I was thrown away by him. One night, one big blow.
Though at this point, I was too tired to think anymore. I already had a long day at work. And just as I thought I was about to have a relaxing night with a lover, I guess that’s how I ended up in this situation. I didn’t have him drive me as he’d always would so I had to walk home. My slouched posture and slow steps inched closer and closer to my apartment.
I stopped, letting out a sad sigh as I looked up to the sky and closed my eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath to inhale the cold night air. “Why are you like this...” I muttered under my breath. Life has been stable for me don’t get me wrong. I guess the only problem to the completion of my successful life was the absence of a successful lover.
I continued walking till I ended up at the front of my doorstep. I dug a hand into my purse lazily to find my keys, eventually grabbing it from the bottom below all my other necessities and took it out. I unlocked the door in the split of a second, knowing that this was the last obstacle I had to go through before I could just pass out.
I locked the door behind me as I entered, throwing my shoes carelessly off to one corner. I didn’t bother turning on the lights as I stepped in, immediately making my way to my room.
“Rough night?”
I froze in my spot. Did I hear that correctly? I was too scared to turn around. The voice sounded like it came from the living room. I gulped nervously, thinking that it’s all in my head and that I was just hearing things.
I shuffled my feet deeper into the hallway, only to have the same voice sound out a, “Aren’t you going to acknowledge me?”
“It’s not every day you get to meet me.” I heard him say, but I didn’t even take it into consideration with what I said next since I was starting to get panicky.
I spun around sharply, dropping my purse and holding both hands up in the air. I shut my eyes closed, my lips pursed into a thin line. “I didn’t see your face. You can rob anything you want. I won’t report you so please get out.” I scrambled out of fear that shook under my skin, thinking it was some robber.
The person doesn’t answer and instead kept quiet for a whole twenty seconds before he bursted out laughing. Not the sinister or intimidating kind, but the one that actually expressed that the person thought that I was genuinely being funny.
“You think I want to steal? I have way better valuables.”
Slowly but surely, I opened my eyes. It took awhile for them to adjust in the darkness but once they did, I saw a figure sitting casually on the couch, legs crossed with one hand sitting on his thigh while the other rested over the back pillow. His posture looked relaxed and lazy.
I blinked my eyes rapidly. Unsure if what I was seeing in front of me was even real. A stranger is in my house. “Who the fuck are you?” I asked, now that I knew he wasn’t a robber out to rob who knows what since I didn’t even have anything of value here, I had the slightest bit of confidence to sound angry and or annoyed.
He chuckled, which gave me a questionable look with my head tilted just a few degrees to the side. “I’m a Cupid. Heard you got thrown off the man’s list and I’m about to get fired if I don’t help you.” My mouth gaped open as I tried to repeat his words to myself in my head. Cupid? Those actually existed? And one’s sitting right in front of me?
With a sudden snap of his fingers, the living room light was switched on and it revealed him. He had his hair braided to the back, wearing a white shirt wifh tons of pearl necklaces all in different sizes and lengths under an expensive white blazer jacket that had extreme textured details to it. Yet, he wore plain light washed jeans and black sneakers, which didn’t affect his overall high class outfit. Not to mention his very beautiful and charming face. I would have done a double take if I saw him on the streets.
“Uh what? Cupid? Is there something wrong up there? Need me to take you to a mental institution?” I asked, bringing my hand up to my head and tapping my index finger beside it lightly. He looked at me with an unimpressed look on his face.
“Or should I call the police? Cause’ you’re a stranger in my house and that’s called a break in.” He cocked his chin up, scoffing loud and arrogantly. “Didn’t I tell you that I’m Cupid? People can’t even see me. Unless I make myself visible that is.”
“Anyways believe or not, yes I’m Cupid. Specifically your Cupid. And I’ve been tasked to make sure you get a second date or else I lose my job. You get it?”
I ran a hand through my hair furiously as I tried to suck in all this sudden information that’s just been thrown at me. I couldn’t believe it at first. But he seemed so real, I couldn’t be imagining things.
“So I call you Cupid?” I voiced shook a little as I tried to speak up, my confidence dying ever so slightly as I took into consideration that this is real and it sounds like it’s no joking manner from the way he explained himself ealier.
“Lucas will do, thank you.” I sighed, not sure what to do with the current situation. My plan of plopping myself onto my bed and knocking out has now been completely thrown out the window. I really wished that I could just walk away from all this and do so.
“Um I honestly have no brain power to process any of this...” I swirled my hand around his figure lazily. “This shit. So can we do it tomorrow or something?” I groaned, rubbing my temples as my eyes began to feel heavy, the sleepiness already starting to kick in.
He didn’t answer but rather stood up and walked towards me slow and steady. My head tilted down slightly but I still saw his footsteps drawing in closer with his hands shoved in his jeans. “Sure. But I don’t have much time. The Neos won’t be happy if I don’t get this done.”
“Neos?” Great, another information that I accidentally asked about and now Lucas has to explain it though I think it’s going to be irrelevant.
“Its basically the other Cupids. We’re called Neos from NeoZone. It gets confusing since we all have different roles so you aren’t needed to know that.” I heaved a sigh. Thank God.
“Wait there are other Cupids?” The sudden question hit me as I tilted my head up to meet his gaze, brow raised. Lucas hummed and nodded simply.
I pucker my lips as I gave it a second thought. “Are there any other hot Cupids than you?” A slight smirk appeared on my lips. Not sure where I was heading by asking these questions if I’m being fully honest here.
“You think I’m not hot enough?” Lucas let out an exasperated gasp as he placed his hand on his chest, puffing it up as his mouth gaped open. “I mean the other Cupids are too popular and are currently too busy.”
Lucas folded his arm, weight shifting from one leg to the other as his head tilted to the side, giving me a blank and cold expression. “So you’ll have to make do with me.” He gave a cheeky eye smile afterward, which made me laugh due to how sudden the change was.
“Don’t even think of falling in love with a Cupid anyways even if you did get the popular ones. That’s already dangerous.” Lucas added. I narrowed my eyes on him, squinting them as I leaned my body forward. “How so?”
Lucas huffed, placing a hand on his forehead. “We’re suppose to help people in terms of love and romantic relationships. Falling in love as a Cupid would cause major disruption. It happened before.”
Lucas paused for a moment, looking up in the sky for a moment as if recalling something to add on. “The cupid has to become a human if they were to be in love with another human. Basically giving up their wings and abilities, advantages.”
“And trust me. I do not want that.”
“It’s not like we’re falling in love.”
I shrugged plainly. But boy was I extremely wrong as I went on the journey with Lucas, our objective and main purpose slowly shifting into something else the more we spent time together.
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samanthadalton · 4 years ago
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Slowly falling (part 1)
Pairings: Kamilah x Amy 
This was an idea that came to me a couple of months ago but I’m glad that I finally get to start writing it now. It’s basically a rewrite of chapter 10 of book 1 with the castle attack but I’m putting my own little spin on the story and letting the slow burn unfold more. Hope you guys enjoy ❤️❤️❤️ (also im writing star crossed lovers its just gonna take a few days dw it’s coming) 
tw: mentions of blood and violence so reader discretion is advised 
  taglist: @alleycat97 @cloud9in @avalawrencefl @thedaft1 @mrs-avamontjoy @itszdavenport @iamsimpforpoppy @otakufangirl-12 @orisasay @justavampirefan @manilovshina @waterinathermostat @bloodkueen @sparklesoverlooked (i added people who liked the post about me wanting to write this fic, if you wanna be added or taken off let me know 😊) 
wordcount: 3.4k (its long i know im sorry i was excited) 
Screams fill the room as the first feral crashes through the door, letting out a blood-curdling screech to signal to the rest of the ferals to follow. Within seconds blood sprays all over the walls and floor as the ferals ravenously tear through the sea of vampires, letting their primal instincts out to play. In response, vampires begin running and fighting in all directions, while the humans run to safety, burrowing themselves into the smaller rooms, hoping to not end up as the gory decorations that besiege the room. Amidst all the chaos, the council leaders prepare themselves for battle, Adrian rolls up his sleeves, while Kamilah unsheathes her daggers from her dress. The Baron grabs a huge craving knife from the walls, as Vega stomps on a broken chair using two of its legs as deadly weapons, while Priya seizes a lit torch and begins to intimate the ferals near her,  Lester hisses and bares his fangs as the council members join the fray. Their eyes burn with anger, the redness mirroring the blood spilled as the blur of their bodies move with such elegance and precision slashing through the crowd of ferals. 
Amy watches, paralysed with fear before Lilly pulls her out of her reverie, dragging her away from the confrontation as the roars of both vampires and ferals echo through the hall, the reality of the deadly situation settling into her. Another assembly of ferals breaches through the halls and as Amy and Lily make their way towards the gardens, they lose sight of each other, as the crowds move in all directions, chaos only elevating. 
“Lily! Lily!” Amy frantically looks around the garden, her voice panicked while her breaths come heavy, unable to stop the terror taking over her body. She suddenly stops in her tracks, she slightly narrows her eyes towards the woods to see a lingering figure just standing at the edge before moving into the shadows of the trees and without any hesitation she follows after the figure. Her gaze darts around as she runs through the woods, a dubious feeling in the pit of her stomach but she subsides her doubts and pushes through. It isn’t until she hears a snarl she stops in her tracks, her heart practically leaping out of her chest. 
She slowly turns and sees a feral with blood dripping down its face as it hisses at the girl and leaps towards her. Amy lets out a yelp and leaps to the side, barely dodging its attack. “Oh my god!” The feral advances towards Amy ready to attack again, it manages to shove her to the floor, its slender fingers tightening around her arms, as blood slowly trickles down her arms. Amy lets out a sob as the feral bares its fangs, leaning closer to the girl’s face, ready to tear her to pieces. Drawing on all her strength, Amy attempts to push the feral away, her eyes scanning the environment looking for a weapon to help her. A small branch sits out of reach to her, and after a moment's deliberation, she uses one hand to reach out to the branch, her strength diminishing as she uses her other hand to hold the feral back. She grunts as she stretches her fingers, the feral digs its nails into Amy more and she screams in pain. Motivated by what she thinks are her last few moments, Amy lets out a primal cry and uses the last of her strength to grab onto the branch before plunging it through the feral's chest. The black blood splatters all over her face as she watches the feral turn into dust, the last few embers of it floating in the air as the wind blows it away. She takes a few moments to catch her breath before a resounding series of slow claps cuts through the silent atmosphere. 
“Damn, I was rooting for the feral.” 
The familiar voice brings shivers down Amy’s spine as she lifts her fatigued body off the ground, her voice a low gruff, “you.” 
“Yes, me.” Nicole stands before the girl, a sated smirk on her face as she steps closer to the girl, as she does, the moonlight shines down on her, specifically on the crossbow in her hands as she dangles it by her side. 
“You’re the one behind the feral attack.” Amy’s nostrils flare as she carefully watches Nicole’s grip on the crossbow tightening, slowly biding her time before she makes a move for it. 
“Wow looks and brains, I can see why Adrian chose you as his little pet.” She takes one step closer, all amusement wiped from her face as her gaze intensently burns into Amy’s. “Before I kill you, tell me something. How’d you know it was me?” 
Amy lip quivers slightly before she bites down on it, Nicole finds her display of fear amusing letting out a small chuckle, but she cocks her head to the side, curiosity glistening in her eyes. “Well?”
“You told us you wouldn’t be here tonight. And even though you were in the woods too, the feral only came for me.” 
“Mmm, two and two. I didn’t think you had it in you.” Nicole takes one more step towards Amy and levels up the crossbow to her forehead, “I guess Adrian needs to look for another assistant now.” 
“Why? Why are you doing this?” Amy cries out, she grits her teeth together in an endeavour to stop the tears in her eyes from falling. The corners of Nicole’s lips slightly quirk upwards as her finger hovers over trigger, “this goes far beyond you Amy. You’re just collateral.” 
“Who are you working for because I know Adrian would never want this.” 
“That old prude, please.” Nicole lets out an exasperated huff, “Adrian’s always been such a good boy following the rules, but he played me. Strung me along and made me do everything for him without giving me what I wanted most.” 
“You wanted to turn.”
“And he knew that, and he kept letting me get my hopes up until your idiotic friend had to get herself hurt and took my rightful place in his clan.” The glare in Nicole’s eyes turn to pure hatred, as her hands shake in fury, “but at least tonight I get my revenge.” Just as she’s about to pull the trigger, Amy tackles Nicole to the ground and the two women begin brawling with each other, trying to grab the crossbow. 
Amy wildly swings her arms and knocks the crossbow out of Nicole’s arms as Nicole delivers a sharp blow to Amy’s gut, knocking the wind out of her. The VP begins to crawl towards the crossbow and just as she reaches out to grab it, Amy jumps on her back and pulls her arm away. 
“Why...don’t...you...just….die?” Nicole rolls over, pushing Amy to the ground before wrapping her hands around the girl’s throat. “Guess we’ll do this the old fashioned way.” Amy begins hitting at Nicole’s sides, as her gaze slowly starts to become hazy. She feels the air leaving her burning lungs, as Nicole’s grip only tightens, a malicious smile on her face, contentedly watching as she drains the life out of the girl. A flood of adrenaline rushes through Amy’s body just as her life begins slipping away from her, and she uses the opportunity to gouge out Nicole’s eyes with her thumbs. In retort, Nicole hisses and loosens her grip arounds Amy’s neck. Amy lets out a huge gasp, letting the crisp air infiltrate her lungs and shoves Nicole off her body, reaching out for the crossbow and clamps her hands on it as soon as her hands touch it. Nicole freezes as she’s on her knees, expression startled, she lifts her hands up defenselessly and begins pleading. 
“Please..don’t do this.” 
Amy tightens her hold on the crossbow, trying to stop her shaking hands as she stares down Nicole, “why should I? You almost killed me.” 
Nicole shakes her head, tears falling from her eyes, “please, please.” 
“Stop! Just stop!” Amy keeps the crossbow aimed at Nicole but she doesn’t make a move to do anything. All of a sudden Nicole’s pleading stops as she smugly looks at the girl, a glimmer of gratification in her eyes. 
“You can’t do it.” The smile on Nicole’s face only broadens, she lets out a small devilish laugh as she slowly begins to stand, her hands still held up as she does. 
“Stop! Just stay there.” Amy apprehensively squeaks out, the crossbow still pointing at the VP. 
“You won’t do it. You’re not a killer.” Nicole degradingly pouts, her voice painfully demeaning, “you’re Adrian’s little pet. Too innocent for a world filled with killers.” 
“You don’t know anything about me,” Amy counters. 
“But I know enough. Why did you even agree to stay? You could’ve walked away, you could’ve had a clean conscience, no blood on your hands.” 
“I’ve never killed anyone!” 
“Really?” Nicole raises an inquisitive eyebrow as she slowly steps towards Amy, “tell that to the feral you just killed.” Nicole lunges forwards, trying to grab the weapon from Amy’s hand but the trigger jams and suddenly Nicole lets out a huff before dropping down to the floor, her hands clutching her chest as her clothes begin to soaked in a crimson liquid. Amy gasps, throwing the crossbow to the side as her hand uselessly hovers over the spike in Nicole’s chest before using her hands as a compress to stop the blood flow. 
“No. No. No. No. No.” Nicole’s blood permeates onto Amy’s hands, as she wipes her hands on her clothes before putting her hands back into the same position. “Please,” she whispers pleadingly as Nicole’s breaths come out in short intervals, blood sprouting from her mouth and oozing down her cheeks. When Amy meets Nicole’s eyes she doesn’t see any fear...just acceptance. Nicole laughs derisively, small flecks of blood falling on chin as she does. 
“You..have...no...idea...what’s..coming...next.” 
Amy momentarily freezes as Nicole’s words sink in, she realises she has still yet to learn who Nicole is working with but realises it’s too late when Nicole’s body is motionless, her eyes lifelessly hanging open. Amy lets out a choked sob, hands trembling as she glares at Nicole’s body, reality settling in. Her breaths become panicked, as she shuffles herself away from the body, she shields her eyes and uncontrollably breaks down. 
“Amy?” A soft voice calls out to her, and Amy lifts her head to see a worried Kamilah standing in front of her, her own face and hands painted in blood. Kamilah carefully turns her head to look at Nicole’s body before shifting her gaze back to the human, “did you?” she trails off as Amy frantically nods her head, her body still filled with tremors. “Hey.” Kamilah squats in front of the girl and carefully puts two fingers under her chin lifting her head until their eyes are trained on one another. “Take a deep breath in and then a deep breath out.” Amy attempts to follow Kamilah’s advice, inhaling and exhaling deeply and slowly until she finally has control over her own breath. She nods in appreciation to the vampire. “Are you going to tell me what happened here?” 
“Kamilah I-” Amy murmurs, her voice laced with pain, “she’s the one behind the feral attack.” 
“What?” 
“She tried attacking me but the crossbow, it jammed and then-” Amy cuts herself off as tears begin brimming in her eyes. “I didn’t mean to” she violently shakes her head, as her body begins to tremble again. 
“Listen to me. You did her a favor.” Amy inquisitively gazes at Kamilah, confusion written on her face. 
“What are you talking about? I should’ve brought her back to her council, you guys should have dealt with it.” Kamilah tuts in response as she turns her head towards Nicole, fury burning in her eyes. 
“The council would have made her suffer for being behind the attack, you did an act of mercy.” 
“I don’t feel like I did,” Amy pulls her knees to her chest, hugging them tightly. Kamilah for the first time inspects the human’s, she assesses the mixed colours of black and red on her face and the scratches and blood all over her dress and arms. Kamilah stands and moves towards Nicole’s body and just as she’s about to lift her body Amy shouts out, “no! Please, no one can know about this.” 
“Amy…” 
“Please Kamilah,” Amy says pleadingly, “Adrian, Lily, they can’t find out, please.” 
Kamilah sighs, before she begins to rub her temples, “okay, wait here.” She wordlessly leaves and a few moments later returns with a shovel in her hands and begins digging in the ground next to Nicole’s body. When she’s created a hole deep enough, she carefully lifts Nicole’s body and lays into the newly dug hole and begins to fill it up again. Amy silently watches the soil hit Nicole’s body as the grave begins filling up until Nicole’s body is completely concealed. Kamilah lets out a huff before looking over to Amy who hasn’t moved from her spot in the last hour. “Amy?” Amy noncommitedly hums in response, her gaze never leaving Nicole’s grave. “Come on,” Kamilah reaches out her hand awaiting for Amy to take it and as Amy’s hands slide into hers, Kamilah effortlessly pulls Amy up, before pulling her hand away. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Kamilah walks out of the woods with Amy trailing behind her and the women catch the train, silence filling up the atmosphere as they wordlessly trudge up to Amy’s apartment. A breath of relief escapes Amy when she comes home to an empty apartment, glad that Lily isn’t here to question the state she’s in. Kamilah promptly stalks towards the bathroom and Amy closely follows behind. Kamilah grabs a towel from the cabinet and begins running the water, dabbling the towel under the water. “Come,” she commands as Amy obediently stands in front of the vampire as Kamilah lifts the wet towel and delicately begins dabbing away at the blood. Amy watches as Kamilah’s brows furrow ever so slightly, a hint of concern in her features as she softly wipes away at the blood. 
Without thinking, Amy lifts her hands to cup Kamilah’s face, Kamilah’s breath slightly hitches as she freezes while the human’s thumbs gently stroke the vampire’s cheeks, surveying the dried blood on her face. “There’s so much blood,” she quietly speaks out. 
Kamilah keepsher focus on wiping away the blood on Amy’s face, unable to look into her eyes, as she responds, “nothing that hasn’t happened before.” Kamilah freezes, her face scrunched up before her hand trails down Amy’s arm. “Take off your dress.” 
“What?” 
Kamilah stares at the human, her gaze serious. “Take. Off. The. Dress.” Amy turns and pulls the zipper down and as she does Kamilah gasps. 
“How did I not pick up on this before?” 
Her fingertip ghosts down Amy’s back as Amy looks over her shoulder, “picked up on what?” 
“You’re- you’re hurt.” Kamilah touches the large gash on Amy’s back and Amy’s recoils in pain. 
“Ow!” 
“Here, let me heal you.” Kamilah’s fangs descend as she lightly pricks her finger with her tooth and presses the blood onto Amy’s back. “There, it should heal soon.” 
“Thanks.” 
“This is taking too long, you should take a shower and clean off the rest of the blood.” Kamilah turns to leave but Amy grips her wrist slightly pulling the vampire back. 
“Please stay, I don’t want to be alone right now.” 
Kamilah contemplates but as she takes in Amy’s distraught demeanour, her gaze softens and she sighs, “okay.” Amy pushes off her dress, but keeps her bra and panties on as she steps into the shower and begins running the water. A few moments later, Kmailah follows suit, letting her dress join Amy’s on the floor as she steps into the shower half naked. 
Wordlessly Kamilah cups Amy’s face and lets the water begin to wash away the blood, her thumbs tenderly stroking the human’s jaw as she does. Amy, although slightly taken back by the vampire’s sudden benevolence, allows Kamilah to gently caress her face. In return Amy squirts some shower gel into her hands, letting the suds bubble up in her hands before cleaning away the blood on Kamilah’s face. Kamilah tenses, realising her abrupt hesitation, Amy stops but keeps her hands on Kamilah’s face, her eyes searching the vampire’s. When Kamilah doesn’t pull away, she continues rinsing off the blood as the two women soundlessly help each other to clean up, the intensity of the atmosphere being more intimate than any moment shared between them before.
Kamilah senses Amy’s mind drifting and speaks out, “it gets easier.” 
Amy looks up at the vampire, solemnly, “which part, the killing or the guilt?” 
They continue washing off the blood in silence until Kamilah replies, “both.”
Once they are cleaned up, Amy offers Kamilah some of her newer clothes to try on. Kamilah hesitantly but without complaint puts them on before moving towards the front door, when she turns back to look at Amy, Amy can already sense Kamilah’s walls being built back up as her usual cold demeanour takes over. 
“Right, I should be getting back to the council, Vega’s called an emergency meeting.” 
“Do you know what it’s for?” 
Kamilah shakes her head, her voice devastatingly monotone, “most likely to figure out how to spin this story and clean up the mess back at the mansion. According to Vega, amidst the..” she clears her throat and carefully chooses her words, “events of tonight, Marcel was killed by the ferals.” 
Amy gasps, sadness overcoming her senses, “oh my god.”
“Well, for now you need to lay low.” 
“What about Lily? Where is she?” 
“I’m not sure,” Amy sharply draws in her breath but Kamilah lays a hand on her shoulder, “Adrian told me she’s okay.” Amy exhales elatedly. “You need to find her and lay somewhere safe for now. Something tells me that someone was using Nicole as a puppet and your apartment might not be safe for you right now.” At the sound of Nicole’s name Amy tenses, fear creeping up on her. 
“Are you going to tell them?” 
“I promised you I wouldn’t. I’ll….figure it out but for now lay low okay?” 
Amy nods and Kamilah removes her hand from the girl’s shoulder before giving her a curt nod, leaving the human in the apartment. Amy takes out her phone and texts Lily, a few seconds later Lily responds and Amy pin drops a location for Lily to meet her at. 
Eventually she meets with Lily and Jax and Jax gives the girls a tour of the shadowden where the girls meet members of the clanless and seek refuge in the shadowden for a few hours. Eventually a commotion of voices interrupt the tour as they step out to see Kamilah being held by two clanless as the crowd begin cheering and screaming at her presence. When Amy looks at Kamilah she feels a pang of disappointment in her chest as she sees Kamilah has changed back into her regular suit. After some convincing Jax lets the women go and they all go to Kamilah’s office for some privacy after Kamilah explains there has been a development in the recent attack. 
“Well? What’s going on?” Lily blurts out. Kamilah stalks towards her drinks tray pouring out half a glass of bourbon before downing it in one gulp. “Hello?” 
Kamilah shoots daggers at Lily and the young vampire immediately clamps her mouth shut. “It seems we have an issue.” 
“What’s wrong?” Amy asks and for the first time since Kamilah left Amy’s apartment, she stares directly into the human’s eyes, an unfamiliar glint in her eye. 
“They’re saying it’s Adrian.” Kamilah grits her teeth, her nostrils slightly flaring. 
“What is?” Lily raises an speculative eyebrow at the older vampire. 
“They’re saying he’s behind the attack at the castle.” 
“What? Who the hell is saying that?” Amy speaks out, the anger on her face almost matching the level of Kamilah’s. 
“The council. They’re giving him a trial in a week, to determine if he’s innocent or guilty.” 
“What happens if they think he’s guilty?” 
Kamilah squeezes the glass in her hand, crushing it into pieces as Amy and Lily share a worried glance, “he dies.” 
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rhaenyratargeryn · 4 years ago
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A few weeks ago I wrote slutty, slutty Kent x Button fic and then didn’t post it-- but now I’m gonna and reveal myself as a thirsty ho.
title: reciprocity rated: explicit fandom/pairing: Mind Blind (IF) Kent Zarneki x f!Button Wiseman summary: One photo leads to another leads to another... Button could open a gallery with the sheer volume of nudes she possesses of one Kent Zarneki.
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It had started innocently enough. At least, that was the lie I was telling myself because in all honesty, what was innocent about sending your boyfriend a selfie— when that selfie was really just a strategically cut close up of the new strappy bralette you’d bought, peaking out from the unbuttoned V of your Aeon uniform top? Nothing. Absolutely god damn nothing.
The text I sent: new! shockingly comfortable. didn’t want to rip it off as soon as I got home
Kent’s message bubbles were silent, but the “read” notification had gone off. I grinned slyly to myself, getting comfortable back up against my bed pillows. Kent blushed so infrequently, I had made a game of it as much as Glitch, though I had had unprecedented success. Glitch had given me a withering look at the boast.
I mean. It was obvious why I did.
My phone dinged, the notification image showing that in lieu of a text, Kent had sent an image of his own. I clicked the tiny preview and was awarded with a picture much like my own, Kent’s tie loose around his neck, the buttons of his shirt undone to show the pale expanse of skin beneath. I could just barely see the line of his jaw, the smirk ticking up the corner of his lips.
I responded by undoing my own shirt down to my waist, pushing the fabric down around my shoulders and using my arms to help my cleavage look fuller. This was dangerous. Very dangerous, but I shook my head to let my hair cascade down across me, took a few shots and sent the best one.
Are you in bed?
Kent’s reply. Followed shortly by another photo. He had put aside ceremony and fully removed his shirt, revealing he was in bed himself. The dark sheets contrasted against him. All that Aeon training had sculpted and carved him into a lean, but strong figure. He was not bulky, like Grayson, cut more narrowly at his waist which gave his shoulders an even fuller illusion of broadness that made my hands ache to run over them.
Kent Zarneki, in short, was too fucking hot for his own good.
I am
Im taking my clothes off
I assume that is what we are doing?
I sent the three texts in quick succession. The message bubbles in reply were brief.
yes
The image that followed was enough to send a hot pang right down into my stomach. He’d unbuttoned his trousers, using the thumb of his free hand to hold down the band far enough I could see the line of his pelvis and the dark hair that dusted across.
If you want to
I want to
I took off my shirt, throwing it aside without care. I had chosen to wear a high-waisted black skirt that day, which was all the better. I very carefully slid my hand up the cup of my bralette, letting the fabric rise up to show the under curve of my breast, appearing fuller when pressed up into my palm.
I sent it and in a second got a reply.
Off
I smirked. Kent had already been naked from the waist up for some time now. I received a sequence of three images, all of which where very flattering shots of Kent’s own torso and abs.
Seems only fair
I pulled the lacy fabric up and over my head as easily as my shirt, looking down at my own pale breasts, my nipples already hardened in the cool air and in anticipation. Shyness fell over me like a cold shower. Kent had never seen me naked before. What if I was too small? What if I was too big? Was my right breast always that much different from my left? Anxiety panged in my stomach as intense as arousal and despite my delay, Kent’s messages remained silent.
Patient. Waiting.
I could cheat. Brushing my hair over my shoulders, the strands lay perfectly over the tops of my breasts, hiding them from clear view, but not as much as my bralette did. I let the photo catch just the bottom half of my face, my tongue stuck out to the side. Teasing. Taunting. Like it was on purpose, not because I was nervous.
Kent didn’t respond for several minutes. The next image, I felt my mouth go dry. I could very clearly see the outline of his erection, pressing against the groin of his pants and going down the leg.
He wasn’t wearing boxers. Of course he wasn’t. This was Kent Zarneki, a man who was one bad day away from leaving everything and joining a nudist colony.
Is this okay?
It was more than okay. It was super okay. It was, please-send-me-more-now okay.
I relayed as much through the text message and got a photo that sent my heart racing. It was just him. His cheeks flushed, his gray eyes dark and storming, a smug smile half formed on his lips. His dark hair was messy and I nearly groaned with frustration at how badly I wanted to run my fingers through it, tug on it, pull that smirk against my own and kiss it off his face.
The next photo I sent him I hid nothing, cupping my breast in my hand and making as if I was drawing my thumb over my nipple. I showed my face, trying my best to look as effortlessly sexy as him— though no matter what I did, my smile was always more playful than sultry. My cheeks flushed with more than just wanting.
Cute
High praise
I replied, trying to remind myself his short responses were normal and not to read into it.
You want praise?
You’re driving me crazy
His words hit me like a sucker punch. His next photo is the second one I didn’t see coming.
No man this gorgeous should ever be blessed in such a way. There were really no words other than “pretty” to describe the flushed skin of his length, not overly long, but definitely blessed where it counted. Or at least where I had heard it counted. It’s all about the girth. My mind supplied in its best Cosmo magazine voice.
The tip was, in all honesty, a very pretty shade of darkened pink, and curved with a sort of perfection that should have been reserved to— I don’t know. Porn stars? Dick models? Do dick models exist? Hand models sure do, and the way his hand was wrapped around himself was enough to make me think he could easily be one of those too.
Cute
I snap back and I can practically hear him laugh in my mind.
High praise
More?
Is that an offer or a request?
Both
How could I say no? I definitely didn’t want to. I found the zipper at the top of my skirt and slid it down. I was left in just my panties and hose. I rolled the hose down low on my thighs, sitting up on my knees to take a photo. Hesitating for just a moment, I flicked the camera over to video and let my hand run down over my thigh and then across my hips. I drew my finger over my center, my breath hitching and my hips moving forward as I rolled against my own touch.
I sent it.
And after a moment I got a video in turn. I watched Kent’s hand glide up over his length in slow, languid motions, pausing to rub his palm against the tip of his head. Teasing himself with the lightest touch. His cock flexed and jumped, a tiny gruff sound escaping his lips and reminding me that even though I couldn’t see his face this was Kent. My Kent.
I nearly dropped my cellphone as it began to vibrate, an incoming call displaying on the screen. I laid back, pushing my hose off the rest of the way as I answered. The line was silent before I finally broke it with a breathy- “hey.”
“Are you naked?” Kent’s voice was low, strained, but somehow eager.
I took a quick moment to slide my panties off, kicking them away.
“Now I am.”
Kent took in a deep breath. I let my hand trail between my legs, touching myself in the familiar way I did when I was alone. I traced my index and middle finger up my labia, spreading the soft warm skin, dipping my fingers into the center where I was slick and hot.
“I’m touching myself.” I said, my voice a broken whisper. Kent made a gruff sound of acknowledgement.
“Kent...” I said, “You made me so wet.”
He moaned.
“Is that okay?” I said, teasing him. I appreciated his caution, his check ins, making sure I was enjoying myself.
“Yes. Yes, it’s okay. Tell me.”
“Wow. Six whole words? Be careful, you’ll make me come.”
“That’s the idea.” Kent said, a breathless laugh filtering through his words.
“What about you? Having fun yet, Zarneki?”
Kent made a sound and I heard the rustling of sheets and the faint click of the phone camera shutter. My phone chimed, an image appearing of the head of his cock, wet with pre-cum he was smearing around the tip.
My tongue slid out against my bottom lip.
“Kent, don’t take this the wrong way— but you have such a pretty penis.”
He snorted.
“I’m serious. I want to put it in my mouth, which is not something I thought I’d ever say to any guy. But like? It just looks so appealing.”
“You’re killing me.” Kent said, a groan that sounded almost exasperated coming from his throat. It was hard to tell.
“With my witty charm or because I put a very naughty image in your head?”
I slipped two fingers into my mouth, pursed my lips, made a show of how wet and soft they looked and sent it to Kent.
“Shit—“
I felt a burst of pride at his expletive and found my clit with my fingertips, circling in a quicker pace.
“I like listening to you.” I said, thoughtless. I sighed, feeling my whole body warming, “Wish it was closer.”
“...I’m just down the street.” Kent said, trying to play it off like it was a fact and not a very tempting invitation.
“But this is fun. And naughty. And I get a keepsake.”
I heard the question in his voice, almost masked by a small groan. I wondered what his hands were up to.
“The photos. Speaking of which... I wouldn’t mind an after shot.”
“After?”
“After I make you come all over yourself, Zarneki.”
I heard his breath hitch.
“Only if I get one too.”
“You got it.”
Talking became a non-priority then. The only thing I strained to hear was his breaths, his soft moans, the faint wet sound I sometime thought I heard over the receive— or maybe that was me. I felt flooded, with heat and wanting and need. I pressed harder, worked my palm flat against my clit and stroked my fingers inside, imaging how much further Kent’s slender fingers could reach. Imaging his tongue. That pretty cock.
“Kent.” I whimpered, the involuntary clutch of my walls around my fingers my bodies way of telling me it wanted all of that and more.
“Good?” Kent murmured, a faint reply.
“Yes— I... I just keep imaging if it were you.” I don’t need to explain. I can tell by the way his breathing has fallen into faint rhythmic pants that he got my full meaning and he liked it.
“...me too. I want... I want you.” Kent paused, his next words coming out with earnest sweetness, “I’ll wait as long as you need...  but I’m ready. I want it. This. With you.”
Whatever I was thinking, whatever I wanted to say fuzzed out around the edges as a prickling sensation spread out from where my fingers were rolling and pressing in tandem. I coaxed my climax out, the peak hanging on the edge for a wonderful few tense moments before it fell. I whimpered, the sound coming out louder than I intended.
I heard Kent swear, or say my name or some combination of the two and then his voice pitched up for just a moment, a gasping moan aching from his throat.
I was hot, messy and completely boneless, laying back on my bed and feeling like I could fall asleep right then and there.
But I owed Kent a picture.
I spread myself open, the puffiness, the redness and slickness hopefully all the evidence he needed to see I had most definitely orgasmed. The moment I opened the chat to send it I received his in turn. His cock lolled back against his stomach, a line of cum connecting to the opaque white puddle settled there. There were drops across his chest and a few splatter across his hand.
My walls clutched hard as I thought what it would feel like to lick him clean.
I sent my own photo, the two of us quiet now, content with just listening to the sound of the other breathing through the phone speaker.
“So. Shower photo shoot next?” I said, unable to hide a nervous giggle.
“Give me just a second to get a towel.”
I had been kidding, but the eagerness in Kent’s voice was enough to make me decide to not correct him.
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rouiyan · 4 years ago
Text
𝘖𝘝𝘌𝘙𝘊𝘈𝘚𝘛 𝘚𝘒𝘐𝘌𝘚 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘛𝘏𝘖𝘚𝘌 𝘞𝘏𝘖 𝘋𝘐𝘌 [ 𝘭.𝘫𝘯 ]
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⧏ the second volume of rouiyan’s debut series, till death do us part ⧐
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synopsis: “i will keep you,” he says softly, as sweet as black tea, “and i will keep you warm.” (Catherynne M. Valente, Deathless)
✧ prince!lee jeno x crown princess!reader ✧ royalty au
✧ genres : fluff, angst ✧ word count : 5.0k ✧ disclaimers : brief descriptions of nudity (nothing sexual), allusions to sex (nothing explicit), malintent
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read volume one here: of the heart.
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when the moon, in all her glory, begins to set, Mother Nature begins each new day by inhaling the misfortunes of the day before and blowing out frigid breaths in their stead. this morning is no exception for nothing is so clear as the wisps of fog that lie just beyond the horizon, a velarium of sorts, over the forest canopy. the sun is a little early today, but it is for naught, since its rays are caught between the tendrils of fog right as they begin to show. perhaps Mother Nature woke up in a bit of a fit today, seeing as the skies are already oozing the grays before the blues have yet to surface. Her fingers gently stir the clouds to ensure that they collide right where the earth most needs it and She's joyful in the sense that Her work can be admired from far down below. after all, the paintings She conjures in the skies are nothing short of masterpieces.
like a ceiling folding in with the pressure of water leakage, the clouds from down below give off an air of distress. the air itself is heavily encumbered with a clarity found only after the rainiest of days. and if not for the sake of the story, the author could spend hours droning on about Mother Nature's tour de force, she really would, but instead she will insert a few lines from a symphony: 
The autumn mist drifts blue over the lake,
The blades of grass stand covered with frost,
The flowers' sweet scent is gone,
An icy wind bends down their stems,
My heart is weary.
Der Einsame im Herbst (The lonely one in autumn), from Mahler’s Das Lied von der Erde
in the exact opposite sense that Mother Nature loves her leaves, with tender fondness and a forgiving hand, prince jeno's father has never loved his second son more, with an impassioned sneer and a bagful of riches in mind. at least, that is exactly what prince jeno himself thinks as he skims through yet another letter, this time from his father. 
son,
never did i think i would enjoy the prospect of a winter ceremony as much as i would this, perhaps you would also like to see an early coronation. i've made the necessary arrangements, i assure that you will not be suspected in the least but keep caution and wariness by your side, our family name is already a great deal tainted. thought not for long, i'll be sending a carriage to retrieve you for your rounds back home, we've ought to get going on them. the damsel is a sight for sore eyes, i presume, i'd hate for her to foil our ambitions; she is much in your hands to attend to now. i'll see you by the throne soon, my lad. 
king of the southern mines, your father.
the prince's vision narrows upon the words 'coronation, arrangements, suspected, foil, throne,' and he is already a sight of frustration, fingers gripping the paper with such force that his short nails are digging into his palms through it. seething, he tears his eyes from the script before him but instead, they land on the previous letter sat atop the open escritoire. the one from his mother. the stamped edge of the paper lifts with the wind that filters through the window just above it and he has the sudden urge to let it be carried away wholly. jeno crosses the room in four steps. 
with both the pages collected in his hands, jeno crouches by the mantle, the roar of a fire licking up before him. his face is drawn in concentration, jaw stiff and clenched. the lines of his brows are met with a furrow in between, set above the meek lines of his eyelids. his pupils dilate, albeit out of habitual need, in the reflection of the inferno before him. he's ever-so-aware of the distinct scent of burning coals that siphon and sharpen his reminiscence of home. it's sentient, the feelings of familiarity that overcome his senses, halting his movements, his fingers clutching the papers in a way that almost tells of longing. longing of a seemingly different world entirely, one that he has only ever known until a few weeks prior. being washed anew in distant lands and over the course of a single lunation, jeno finds that he's never felt more mismatched from himself, disconnected from the people who raised him in contrast to the people who have brought out the better in him. but the embers are not the only thing he smells, not the only he sees, or heeds to.
the pearly carrara marble of the mantle tells stories in the grayed lines that trail across its posh surface. his eyes rove over the white, the faith and purity of your heraldry binded with the emblem of your family. the white of angels, of untainted relations, sterility in empowerment, the inviolable you. the white tells stories that the black never could.
so jeno finds a warm pleasure in the way the flames overwhelm the papers with eager enthusiasm, the damned words of his parents receding into mere ash. prince jeno thinks he could forever part with the world if it asked him to feast his eyes on this very sight until the end of time. 
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despite arousing before the sun, you are disappointed when it starts to chase your wakefulness. there is something edging the growing unease in your mind, as if time is trickling down the drain of the past, too fast and too unforgiving. as if time is berating at your senses, telling you there is much more than what meets the eye but for the life of you, you cannot pinpoint what. for now though, you tend to the pressing matters at hand, jeno has been called home for his rounds, rather abruptly.
"perhaps i should go with you, rounds don't always have to be made by one per-”
jeno cuts you off effectively, "they are very much a one person duty," he assures pointedly. your nose scrunches, the light inconveniences starting to rub off on your exasperation. in a tired voice you mumble, "we could always change it up a bit, i'm sure." jeno chuckles heartily at that, his hand coming up from his side to rub out the lines of stress in your forehead.
"little miss princess, you're saying that as if you do not have rounds to complete of your own. i'm almost certain you host are a far greater amount of people that wish to be invited to the ceremony than i have-"
it's your turn to cut him off now, "why don't you stay with me then?" in attempts to enhance the force of your resolve, you uncover a hand of your own from under the sheets to comb through his locks. the way his eyes instantly close to relish in your touch paired with the little purr he gives is almost telltale of your victory. almost.
jeno pauses, his eyes flicker back open, and a soft knowing smile runs along the features of his face as he shakes his head, in knowledge of your artful tactics to wear him down. "and neglect my kingdom and their desires?"
you've left the feelings of frustration behind, instead deciding to fool around with the boy, to see what you can get out of him for good fun, "but we've yet to decide what flowers to use as centerpieces. and whether we're throwing a private or public ball. wedding preparations are surely more important than handing out personal invites…we can cut corners one some niceties." jeno knows better than to let his guard down. the jeno around y/n isn't to be trusted as easily. he settles for words of comfort instead, "i'll write."
"well, that's of course. silly of you to voice something as unequivocal as that."
a pause and his resolve is slipping, "maybe a few short visits back wouldn't hurt." you lick your lips in good-natured fun, another pause, "i'm sure my father wouldn't half mind if we cut it a week short." your eyes look hazy to him, though in reality they are simply amused, and drawing words from him he isn't even sure he's saying. "or- or maybe i could convince him, or try to at least…," he trails on and on.
your satisfied a certain amount and, suppressing a smile from giving away your plotted schemes, you mutter quietly, mostly for your own pondering, "i'm thinking alliums would make a statement, blue alliums." jeno gives a noise of confusion, unsure of how you've suddenly come to talk of flowers. "the centerpieces, i mean." jeno's silence only urges you on, "alliums, or blue alliums at that, are symbols of unity and good fortune. i think that'd make a nice combination with a base of milkweed, dignity and freedom, if my memory serves me right."
the prince has found his voice, "what of the rounds?" but he's met with a small chortle, "nothing, a month is a month, i'm sure we'll work around it."
"but, i- i'm not sure i understand. you were adamant enough a millisecond ago, and now-"
"and now i'm telling you i was toying with you, dear sir. such fun it is when you let on more than you'd like."
jeno's cheeks flush, the warm color dusting the bridge of his nose, apples of his cheeks, tips of his ears. your warm smile and benign banter bring him the simplest of joys. he's not sure he's ever felt this way before. familiarity. and, not the familiarity that comes from his assigned butler since birth, or the old lady at the apothecary he's been to all his life that's paid to tend to his wounds. not the familiarity that comes with blood and playing house, the type of sickened familiarity he feels with his brother, doyoung, that every second spent with him is forced. the familiarity he feels with you is by choice, by genuine and sincere desire. you want to wake up in the mornings with him by your side. you want to spend breakfast pushing each other's toes away underneath the table. you want to hold his hand when he walks you to your carriage. you want to make love with him in the most ungodly hours of the day. which is exactly what happens that morning.
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a day is barely enough to do all the things you've penned in your journal. things to be done before you were to be married, with the one you were to be married to. the list had been written, curated, and refined by nine-year-old you, who you must say, had some very good ideas, though verily a romanticist. 
jeno is departing tomorrow morning, as early as the sun will permit, and suddenly you wish that it would never rise again. whatever the case, you set out first thing this morning, hand tugging along a very tired prince, for the bathing pool. nine-year-old you must have misinterpreted the meaning of 'skinny dipping' for swimming but you thank nine-year-old you because things seem to have worked out in your favor either way. jeno is jolted awake by the gelid water, the seasons now mark three-quarters into fall. 
"go in first," you state simply, hands on your hips and eyes drawn down into the water. the single toe you had dipped in to test the waters is frigid and frozen. jeno, who has yet to finish undressing himself, nodded at your words. if he were looking in your direction he would've noticed the smirk on your face. he stands straight, boxers on the ground behind him as he takes place by your side, "cold?"
"not at all, surprisingly," he's looking at you now and your countenance can't help but decompose in front of him, a small, unsuspecting smile adorning your lips. "oh really, can you attest for that?"
the smile is now blossoming unto your cheeks, "are you telling me to go in first?" the prince nods at that, fully aware of your schematics, "yes, i would like to see you enter the warm water."
"you agreed to go in first just a few seconds ago, don't tell me you've backed out on your word," a feeble matter against the boy but he defends himself by saying, "devious little princess, as if this wasn't your idea."
you're equally defensive when you point out, "not me, directly, but rather me as a child-" he pushes you in. lee jeno, second prince of the esteemed southern kingdom pushes you into the subzero degree bathing pool.
assuredly though, he dives in a few seconds after he's had time to relish in your shocked expression and piercing screams. he's coming up for air, his hands have found your bare hips to make sure that you resurface together. or drown together, you think, because it seems his foot is caught in the crevices between two rocks and since he's writhing like a madman, you're writhing with him too. it's a strange sight, two very beautiful individuals, absolutely in love but absolutely inane, for if jeno had thought to let go of his grip on you, you might've been able to unlodge his foot altogether if he had not been set on wrangling both your bodies about.
it's four minutes later that the two of you are on the leveled bronze rock, now, absolutely loosing it over jeno's lack of common sense. both of you are having trouble breathing, spurts of water still occasionally gushing past his lips. he thinks you're most beautiful in your bare skin, with nothing to define you but yourself. he's running his fingers up and down your torso, lips connecting with the surface of your neck. he appreciates that you kiss him with such avidity, you always do. jeno loves that you make it known to him, that what you say, you mean. and that even if you were never to utter a word again, he would still understand the sheer vehemence with which you love him.
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you cross off paragliding, building a snowman, and studying together for a test. not because they've been completed but because there simply is no plausible way to get them done with the deadline closing in fast. the next activity you present to jeno has his eyebrows raised in intrigue. he's quick to reply when you ask him. 
"a moon, a quartered moon." the knowing smile that grows on your face tells him he's chosen correctly.
jeno gives a squeeze to your hand as the needle comes in contact with your clean skin. the first few minutes are highlighted by the sensation of a million bee stings, racking through your brain, but the rest is relatively smooth sailing. yours comes out just as good as jeno's, a small moon, a quartered moon, tattooed into the skin just behind the left ear. there specifically, so that it's known by each other and each other only. 
there will be months passed before the moon becomes a sort of unspoken but affirmative communication instrument. when jeno loves you a little too much, he rubs the inked skin softly. his sleepless nights are cured with the pad of your finger upon the spot. between the many general meetings you're required to oversee in a day, jeno waits outside the conference room for you to exit, his fingers stroking the moon for the duration of the few seconds allotted to him before you're whisked away again. the symbol of night is translated into accounts of bonding, the smallest of things giving way to happiness. 
you would say the uses of the 'lovemark' are amplified as the sun retreats and the mascot of your relationship shines brighter than ever. it's evident in the look on jeno's face, especially, a few feet below you, peering up your skirt with a dumbstruck look on his face. 
"jeno, dear, now is really not the time." the boy clears his throat and looks away, baffled at how you'd caught him anyways. your position is so frightfully awkward, one foot on the top end of your chamber's windowsill, another bent and hoisted onto the flat ledge of your roof. "come on up now, and get those dirty thoughts out of your mind. for heaven's sake, we're here to watch the sunset and stargaze, not to pound into each other."
the prince laughs at your offhanded remarks, arriving himself on the platform. the view is expansive in the way that you can see the forest from here, the ocean if you squint, the hills set in the far distance, and the sky has never felt closer to the earth while the things you've always known to be near appear smaller and more distant than ever. even the gregarious tree stalks of the forest rise to what could be measured as an only inch from this outlook. 
"nine-year-old y/n seems to have known nothing but fun days." jeno muses, leaning his weight back upon his hands. your eyes are glazed in an omniscient mist, "i'd expect so, she was born and raised with everything." the prince picks up on the tone of distaste with which you'd spoken your words. he turns to you and studies the hairs that fall in your eyes, "hardly fair."
you reply not a beat after, "not at all fair. if i were to accomplish one thing during my run as queen, i'd give the children opportunities of a lifetime." the thoughts tumble out of your mind, as if you'd known of this conviction of yours since you were but a child. your drive as a ruler, firm and headstrong to implement your values and beliefs on your subjects has been the sole idea that's grounded you in the castle for your entire time being.
"and what if you cannot?"
your first reply is dealt with in humble humor, "at the very least, i'd like it to be engraved on my tombstone that i tried." the second, is laden with a sorrowful undertone, "housing, schooling, meals and warmth in the winter. we have it the worst here up north. if they are without school, they are left with nothing." jeno's head turns to yours, he sees the slip of a tear and he wipes it away, only to be met with another. your voice cracks in despair, "there are no mining jobs to take up, no farms to harvest, aqueducts to run. i dread that one day i must rule a kingdom of arts."
jeno tries, he really does, to gather you in his arms but your sobs rack your body with such force that he is left to comfort your desolations with words and a hand on your back, "what is there to dread? are the arts so difficult to maintain?"
bitterness forms at the tip of your tongue, "no, jeno. i regress in the face that art is invaluable. but the world seeks to attach a price to every viable thing, to label the passion of others. and now, now the arts are for the rich, only for the rich. have you ever heard of a hungry man paint instead of seeking shelter from the rain? a woman who writes prose instead of feeding her dying children? there is no one who can live solely on art but the heavens have sent me to rule a horde of those very people."
the prince knows you need to voice the thoughts weighing down your mind, so he gives them a platform, a nudge, "a kingdom of arts would be blessed to house a queen with intentions such as yourself, surely there are others who hold the same principles as you." 
"no doubt," your eyes cast on the forming stars, "but as much as i would love to trail a path of meliorism and say that with a tide of willingness, there will be change, i must not forget the real nature of the world we live in."
"and what is this nature that you speak of?"
"the drive of greed and sadism, in exchange for the feeblest of pleasures."
the world comes to a still in this very moment. the moon begins her ascent. the stars unsheath their full luminance. the whites of their gleam reflecting on the rooftop on which the two of you are sat. time and space shrivel in the potency of untainted humanity.
"we will bring change, you and i."
you feel your heart calm as your rambling ceases. jeno looks over at you and smiles.
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prince jeno is scheduled to return in twenty seven days time. there is something that feels wrong about him leaving. a feeling that if he leaves, all hell with turn loose and you will be unleashed unto the dogs for ravaging. there is a coated and unspoken thought that splutters in your mind whenever you even dare so much as to begin to think of it. the possibility that with jeno's leave, you'll be left with the realization that it was all a phase of infatuation. that when you see him again, all the feelings that you'd built up over the course of a month and a few days was just a glamourized dream. that he was never real; the real that you needed.
"i'll be forever thinking of those lips on mine, maybe even missing them," you let, comically. jeno eyes you conspicuously, "and i'll be forever thinking of you, as a whole, not just the lips unlike you. a little fixated you sounded there, mind you." his little sniggers are given in response to your hands pushing his chest in frisky response. the prince pulls you closer into a final embrace, the coachman of his black carriage is awaiting his departure. 
he parts from you and you can't help but trail behind him down the paved path. he's over his shoulder now as you let loose a sliver of your deepest worries, meekly, "i hope we never change, jeno."
the prince halts at the bottom steps that curl into the palace. he sees you, feels you, knows you, for he quotes, “i will keep you,” he says softly, as sweet as black tea, “and i will keep you warm.” (Catherynne M. Valente, Deathless)
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jeno can hear the light pellets of raindrops hit the roof of his carriage. the gray skies are darkening by the second, it's telling him something that he's sure he doesn't want to hear. his fingers fiddle with the cuffs of his tailored suit jacket, something you'd requested be made for him when his stay was first prolonged. the prince is entirely clad in white and he knows enough to imagine the face his mother will make when she first sees him home. lee jeno doesn't remember a time when he's donned a color other than black, but somehow, the white doesn't feel too far from home. 
with the white, his mind flashes with the events of the past month or so spent in your noble abode. you, on the other hand, rarely ever wore a color other than white, the most differing shade being a cream or beige. but even with all the lights, you never seemed to mind when they were dirtied. almost always, a day in the fields or by the bathing pool would drench a good six inches of your skirts in mud and the unfurled hems of your frocks or crinkled fronts of those sweaters you so often adorned were always beyond your notice. you were free in that way, never stopping to fuss over the little things you deemed unimportant. jeno thinks if he could live that way too and though he isn't sure if he can, he knows he wants to.
jeno can hear the spindles of the carriage gyrating with added resistance against the now watered-down mud of the trodden roads. his eyes are caught in the sky that looks as if it's to detonate at any given second. he predicts the thunder before it rings loud in his ears and he hears the coachman slash a whip to a trepid horse, an echo of the natural phenomenon. he wonders what it would feel like to be the coachman, out in the clamorring downpour, or perhaps the horse, blindlessly running to the crack of a whip, or the trees even, awoken by the threat of a fire. he wonders if he has any desire to be the lightning itself, to jab at the delicate foliage as he'd like, to set fire to that of which he doesn't like, to wield destructive power. he wonders, but he knows he doesn't want to.
lee jeno is in his carriage when he realizes what it means to be free, but not in the hindrance of others. he realizes what it means, not to rule but rather to guide without the oppression of others. lee jeno is also in his carriage when the skies turn black and a deluge of rain is unleashed upon the castle of white. 
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a man a few inches brief to the prince, but of higher rank in swordsmanship, is propped on the limestone trellis that holds the awning in place, his two feet hooked between the vertical balusters of stone and fingers clung onto the ridge of the balustrade. he finds it ludicrous that every individual of importance he has ever met, is so caught up in their own belief that they are untouchable, where in reality they are the most vulnerable of all. he thinks this, specifically, as he upturns himself over the railing and onto the landing, only to see that the king's door are left wide open, the only shield of protection being the pristine white curtains glinting a sheen of blue in the moonlight. 
renjun is humored when, upon drawing the curtains back, the king himself is simply laying there on the ground, unconscious as he was informed he'd be. the knight presses two fingers to the inner wrist of the withered man and finds that he still has a job to finish. brandishing a blade from the underside of his calf, he deems the inscription on the handle fit for the deed. he drives it into the gut but makes quick work of it, the sputters of blood that erupt from the now-awakened royal something he wishes the guards just outside not to hear. renjun makes further assurance that the blade is firmly put in place, the stout palladium shaft protruding from the king's abdomen like the ring of a windup toy. 
a black body bag is used to sheath the quickly-paling bag of bones. it is left under the light of the moon, through a skylight rounded in the dead center of the palace. around the malefaction, stairs wind in all directions from the ground up and if there were even one maid to have crossed the landing once in the night, she would have been met with what looked to be an unassuming trash bag. but fate had it so the sun would rise before your dead father was stumbled upon, an inscribed shank planted between his internal organs reading, this star-like solitude (Giuseppe Ungaretti, from Last Choruses for the Promised Land: XVI (tr. by Patrick Creagh)).
the blood that seeps from the measly opening in the bag is not silver, nor is it gold. it is blood red. the red of a brazen senex that perhaps preceded and proceeded his times, entangled in the intricacies of the new age, the new game of politics he simply had no means to play at. akin to the webs of an arachnid, the string of fate hung around his neck, thin and unnoticeable, cinching with each passing second until Mother Nature deemed his time up. the blood that seeps writhes in the rays of the sun, twines like the veins in the marble beneath it. it seeps until the figure in the sack is drained and the clumping skin of human remains is the same shade as the white tiling. red against white, white against black, the black of a crying sky.
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read volume three: dearly departed.
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copyright © 2020 rouiyan all rights reserved.
✧ end note — i had such a hard time trying to pull this outta my ass in a way that captures everything i wanted to say. so thank you for reading this piece. it’s one of my most favorite things i have ever written, undoubtedly.
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fandomsonrequests · 4 years ago
Text
𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖊𝖑𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓..? [𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 1]
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fandom: ATEEZ
characters: prince! park seonghwa
reader: fem! knight
word count: 1.7k+
summary:  It was time for another Selection. No- not a Selection for a bride but rather a well-trained knight to keep Prince Seonghwa safe after a failed assassination attempt. You, a blacksmith’s daughter, manage to make it to the elite group of knights worthy and skilled enough to protect the crown prince after months and months of training. This alone catches Seonghwa’s eyes- in more ways than one
a/n: so the first part! mind you this is unedited so im sorry if there are any spelling errors or if it sucked. ;^; i’ll try updating every week but please bear with me- class is about to start soon for me :(( Also- I hope you catch the two cameos of two other kpop idols in here ;) 
Please message me if you want to be tagged for the future updates! <3 
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You were always full of surprises.
You surprised your mother with your first kick in the womb while she was tidying your father’s workbench. You surprised your whole family when you came out of the womb as a girl- not as a boy like a village’s midwife predicted. You surprised your father with the first sword you crafted, showing that the gift of smithing didn’t stop at your older brother.
So it wasn’t unexpected when you expressed your desire to open another smithy in town.
“Now why would you want to do that, my dear?” Your father asked with a gentle smile, wincing at the injury his leg sustained during an accident in the workshop. “Are you not satisfied here with us?”
Your younger self momentarily glanced at his injury, shaking her head before answering him with a hopeful grin. “I am papa. But we will be able to earn more for the future. And you don’t have to tire yourself out in the smithy anymore, papa…” Your voice trailed off at the end, your smaller hands reaching out to hold her father’s.
Your father smiles gently although there was almost a sad glint to it. He raised his calloused hand to your cheek, caressing the skin there softly and pinching it afterward. He laughed quietly when you swat his hand away with a tiny pout on your rosy cheeks.
“My dear, you never fail to brighten up and think of the loved ones surrounding you. For that, I’m grateful.” He grunted as he stood up from his seat, leaning on the cane that was made for him. He gently cupped the back of your head and pulled you forward to kiss the crown of your hair.
“But don’t worry too much about me. I’ll be able to manage.” He flashes you one of his reassuring smiles before limping away to his workbench to continue his work.
You looked over to your father, brows furrowed together as your hands gripped at the apron that hung around your waist. One day- you’d make him proud and he’d never have to suffer again.  
Forward to many years later. Here you are now, a young woman of twenty-two, ready to start the day.
You yawned behind your palm, looking over to the window in the corner of the room on the right. There was no light creeping through the cracks on the shutters which was a telltale sign that the sun was still asleep and that the town was still in the early hours of the morning. It wasn’t uncommon for you to wake at this ungodly time of the day. You always had to start early because as soon as the sun rises the whole town comes to life.
Another yawn escapes you as your hand flies across the bedside table, finding the small box of matches and candlestick that you kept. You pull back your hand and hiss quietly as you feel a tiny splinter on your palm. You ignore the pain for the moment and continue searching for the candle and matchbox.
As soon as you find it, you light the candle and make work of removing the splinter in your palm. You set the candle into its respective holder and glanced over to your brother’s side of the room. His back was to you, shoulders going up and down as he breathed steadily. You roll her eyes in half amusement and half exasperation, a quiet sigh escaping you. He always stayed up late.
You get up, bringing the candlestick with you, and proceed to head to the kitchen in your small house. You grab your shawl on the way there as a draft blew through the house. It was always cold where you lived- especially since it was near the mountains- but it was even colder in the mornings.
As you move about the kitchen, you can hear footsteps approaching. “What time did you sleep last night, Christopher?” You ask your brother, not looking up from slicing the hard bread you had.
“Earlier than usual..” He yawns, running his hand through his dark hair. He assisted you in making breakfast, bringing out the earthenware jug of goat’s milk and pouring it into the clay mugs you each have.
“But late as always.” You counter back as you set the slices of bread onto the table. You proceed to return the jug of milk to the cupboard but sigh when you realize how much lighter it was than before. “Looks like we’ll be out of milk soon.”
“Then it’s another week without it,” Christopher adds as he cleans up the crumbs and cuts some slices of goat cheese to go with the bread. “Oh well… we’re used to it anyway. You know how most of what we earn goes to papa’s medicines. Not to forget his ointments.”
“I know Chris, I know.”
You two eat in silence, letting the topic pass by quickly. It’s been a decade since your father had the accident and twelve years since your mother passed from an illness. Since then, it’s just been the three of you. You and your brother worked hard from sunrise till sunset- anything to get your father to rest. You both hated to see how he limped as he walked from one place to the other. You both never told him this but you both saw him sitting on his bed one night, seemingly cursing himself as he stared at the cane he had flung across his room. It pained you to see your father, who usually held his head high, look so defeated.
“I’m off to open the smithy.” You announced as soon as you were done with your meal. “Take care of papa will you, big-nose?”
Christopher nodded, cheeks full of bread and cheese. “See you later stinky-breath”
“It’s just morning breath..!” You refute as you head back to your room to change into your work attire.
After changing into some pants, you threw on your boots and grabbed the worn leather gloves that hung by the doorway. You waved goodbye to your brother and crossed the street to your family’s little smithy.
Few people were already out and about. The delicious smell of fresh bread from the baker’s wafted through the air, thankfully overpowering the nasty odor of goat dung that your neighbors were shoveling out. Probably to be used for the farm they had, or, what little of farmland they had. It was hard to grow things around this area- especially with the altitude and type of soil but the townsfolk managed.
The few shops that were in the village started to open up and the faint sound of the quarry-workers’ song drifted up from the mountain and down into the area, their voices carried by the gentle morning breeze.
“Morning ____!” Magda, your elderly neighbor, greeted as she dusted her carpet from the window.
“Good morning Magda!” You greet back as you head into the smithy. Your boots squelched in the mud created from the dust that floated down from the mountain that mixed with the moist atmosphere created in the early morning.
The smell of heated leather, coal dust, and molten iron greeted your nostrils, burning your lungs with familiarity. You light up the tiny lanterns in the corner of the smithy and your workbench, illuminating the once dark area before grabbing the bucket beside it to fetch some water used in cooling the metal. You hum along to the quarry worker's song, having picked up the tune from having to hear it daily as you work. By the time you were finished with setting everything up, the sun was high in the sky and the town was once more bursting with life.
Your father and brother soon enter, making you smile. “Good morning father.” You greet him with a kiss to his cheek.
“Good morning my flower.” He greets in return as he limps his way over to his workbench.
You tried not to stare after him but you couldn't help it. It seems as if his limp grows worse day by day. You hoped that it the worst will never come- it was a lingering thought but you chose to keep it that way: a what-if scenario. It'll only crush your father's heart if he had to stop crafting and blacksmithing altogether- all because of his injury.
The day continued as usual. The usual customers, both kind and impatient; long lists of requests varying from a specific type of blade and scabbard to the most standard and basic ones. Soon, the sound of a mallet hammering against metal or the hissing of something hot meeting the cool water filled the area. It was practically music to you by now. Time seemed to just flow past the small family of blacksmiths as they worked hard, sweat forming on their brow and skin.
“Careful big-nose,” You tease Christopher when you catch him slipping. You saw how his eyes drooped from his lack of sleep, causing him to trip. Lucky for him- he didn’t drop the mallet he was holding onto his foot.
Lord- he needs to rest.
Chris only laughed dryly and stuck his tongue out at you to which you mirrored quite childishly. Your father only shook his head in amusement, pushing back the spectacles that sat on his nose as he engraved delicate markings into the sheathe a customer ordered a while back.
You were about to throw another playful jab at your brother when the sounds of brass trumpets echoed throughout the village. The people around you grew confused as it continued. There were horns in your village, yes, but this was different. It sounded more regal and official compared to the somewhat brash sound of the village horns.
You threw a rather quizzical look to your brother who shrugged in response. Many of the townsfolk around your area left their place and started moving towards the source of the sound, causing you to do the same. You went over to your father, handing him his cane as you three walked towards the exit of your smithy.
“Oi!! Chris! ____!” A voice called out.
You turn your head to see your friend Siyeon come running towards you. Her steps slowed down to a jog beside you, greeting your father as she did. “What do you think is happening?” She asks you, resting a hand on your shoulder.
“I have no idea.”
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elfy-elf-imagines · 4 years ago
Text
Cruel Summer | Orophin
Pairing: Orophin x Human!reader
Genre: Angst with some fluff at the end
Warnings: Heartbreak; unrequited feelings...??
Words: ~5,222 (oh boy is it a long one)
Note: If you’d like to be added to a tag list for any of my works, there’s a link on my page! I hope you all enjoy this one, it was a real treat to write! ♡
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“I didn’t realise a forest could be so beautiful,” you whispered, staring in awe at the towering trees that shined like silver. The night sky was nothing new to you, nor the moon and the stars, yet they seemed more captivating in Lothlorien than anywhere else. The moon burned as bright if not brighter than the sun, illuminating everything in its silvery glow. Stars dotted the sky, glistening like bright torches in a dark room. 
Lothlorien had been beautiful during the day time, the golden leaves so vibrant and unreal, you could swear someone painted them. You’d thought that beauty would be unmatched until night fell. Everything once golden and blinding is now soft and silver, the trees glittering like fine jewels. And it was perfect, the inner peace and calm Lothlorien brought to you was unmatched. 
The sound of footsteps came from behind, gaining your attention. Turning around you see Orophin, still wearing his grey cloak that marked him a Warden of Lorien and the light armor all the rangers wore. His silvery hair that would’ve put any Targaryen to shame was pulled back in its typical fashion. He was beautiful-- well all elves were beautiful, something you’d learned rather quickly, but Orophin radiated another type of beauty. His beauty was more akin to a predator luring in it’s prey of choice with enchanting words and a pretty face, luring you into a thrilling game you always lost. 
You knew he was dangerous, an alarm in the back of your mind going off every time he gets too close or graces you with a look that was lethal to your wellbeing. But instead of sending you running like it should have, it lured you in closer and closer, like a moth drawn to a flame. It’s dangerous-- he’s dangerous. 
But you never seem to listen.
“I ithil a elena thind in ennerion na i er nin,” he said, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. A smile that promised nothing but pain and heartbreak, but also the thrill that comes with gambling, even when you know you’re going to lose. And you will lose, it’s just a matter of when and not if. 
“That’s not fair, you know I can hardly understand Sindarin, especially not when you speak it so fast,” you said, your eyebrows furrowing the slightest as you scowled. Orophin raised an ashen eyebrow at you, and you couldn’t help but feel envious at the lack of lines on his perfectly smooth forehead. His grin widened as his eyes glinted with mischief, and slowly like a prowling lion, he moved towards you.
 “I said, you are beautiful my dear, but you would’ve known that if you would pay attention during our lessons.” he said, eyes noticeably tracing your form. Your face flushed red immediately, images of you and Orophin, tangled together in your room, nothing but a sweaty flustered mess in your bed. Heat spread through your body as you remembered his icy lips on your hot body. 
And he knew it, that bastard knew the effect he had on you. It was obvious in his expression, like a cat that got the cream. 
“Or maybe you aren’t as great of a teacher as you like to think?” you shot back, mentally throwing ice cold water on yourself. Get a grip you idiot! 
“Oh? My lady wounds me! How will I ever hope to recover from such harsh words? Please, tell Rumil I’ve never enjoyed his singing and tell Haldir ho na burui hon in a adaneth,” he proclaimed, snickering towards the end. You pinched the bridge of your nose and exhaled loudly. 
“Orophin! How am I supposed to tell Haldir what you said… if I can’t understand you?” 
One.
Two.
Three steps.
Orophin waas close enough that you’re sure he could hear how rapidly your heart was beating against your chest, how uneven and shallow you breathing was. His eyes glanced down your form, slowly travelling back up to your face. His pale blue eyes glittered like sapphires as his soft hand reached out to touch you. His long fingers delicately traced your body, leaving you a shivering mess as you attempted to maintain a calm composure. Your head was nothing but static as your face grew hotter with each passing second, despite the cold air hitting you.
“Well then perhaps we continue those lessons?” he asked, the smirk on his face growing wider with each unsteady inhale of air. 
“Right now?” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. 
He simply nodded his head, his smirk turning into a full blown grin. It was wicked and fatal and positively sinful. You attempted to pull back, your mind screaming at you to not fall back into what you knew to be a honey trap. But instead of backwards you moved forward, desperate to get as close as physically possible to him, but even then it wasn’t enough.  
“But someone could see, the Warden’s heavily patrol this close to the city,” you said, eyes widening a fraction as you stare up at Orophin. His finger moves up your body and to your face, tracing your cheekbones with a phantom touch. 
“Let’s hope they have enough courtesy to not interrupt, these lessons are paramount to your stay here in Galadhrim.” 
Before you could even breath, he brought his face down towards the crook of your neck. And when his face was only a few centimeters away from making contact with your skin, he paused. The warm breath that hit your skin felt like a frost storm compared to the heat building in you.
“Im innas na harno cin, nin lend lóth” 
“Im innas na harno cin, nin lend lóth.” The phrase felt jagged and rough, the elven dialect still foreign from your lips, while Orophin’s were smooth as silk. 
“Good, it seems you’ve learned more than originally thought,” he muttered, the vibration of his voice sent a shiver up your spine, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. You couldn’t do anything, your mind nothing more than a pile of mush.  All you can do is nod, anticipating the next move Orophin made. 
“What does it mean?” you asked, voice so quiet you were sure he didn’t hear.
After what seemed like eternity, but in reality was only a minute, Orphan placed his soft lips against your neck, leaving behind feather light kisses as he moved up your neck, onto your jawline, and up towards your cheeks. He pulled away just a hair as you watched him with wide eyes, desperate for him to do something. 
“It means, my dear, we have a long night ahead of us.” he whispered. He graced you with one more wicked grin before closing the gap between the two of you, his lips firmly pressed against yours.  
                                                   o0o0o0o   
The pillow beneath your neck was plush and soft, your body nearly melting into a puddle, sinking into the heavenly mattress that supported your tense body. A silk blanket was haphazardly strewn across your body, crumpled and bunching in places. As was usual in Lothlorien, the night sky was beautiful. From your location, the moon was out of sight, but the stars burned so bright you hardly noticed as their light trickled in from the open roof of your talan. The air was cooling against your hot skin, a welcomed change in temperature. 
The soft melody of elves singing in the distance would normally lull you to sleep, their angelic voices drawing out your thoughts, but tonight it grated against your ears. You clenched the delicate blanket in your hands, finger causing crinkles in the soft fabric as it threatened to tear. But you weren’t mad at them or their heavenly singing that was without a single flaw, no it was something unrelated to singing, but very much including elves. 
“Are you trying to ruin your duvet, meril nin,” 
And like clockwork, the very source of your anger and confusion waltzed into your room as if it was his. The lighthearted easiness he carried himself with was a matching set to the smirk that always seemed to be tugging on his lips. But his eyes, his eyes were different this time. You were never good at reading people, even worse when it came to elves who’ve had hundreds of years to practice controlling their emotions. Yet even you could tell there was something different in them tonight. Maybe it was the starlight and the way it shined down upon him, casting a halo atop his beautiful silvery hair. A part of you wondered if you could cut a piece and sell it off to an unsuspecting merchant and pass it off as silver that’s been turned to thread. 
“What do you want Orophin, it’s late?” your tone was exasperated and tired. It always seemed like one thing or another with Orophin that would just leave you more confused than sated. 
“To see you of course!” he exclaimed, a jovial expression perfectly placed on his face. His eyes were alight with wonder and excitement, his lips curling into a grin filled with promises of fun and bad ideas. 
“Well I need to sleep.” 
He just raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow at you, but otherwise seemed undeterred. He took long strides towards your bed, closing the already miniscule distance between the two of you. Before you could even blink more than three times, he sat on your bed, languidly leaning back until he was lying atop your thighs. He looked at you with wide eyes and fluttered his lashes at you. 
“Why are you so grumpy, meril? I thought humans had fun,” he teased, lifting his hand and tapping the end of your nose with his finger, booping you like a cute pet. You couldn’t tell if it was demeaning or downright adorable. 
“I’m not grumpy.”
“Yes you are my dear.” He pushed himself up just enough to swing one leg over you, now straddling your thighs. He began crawling up your body until his knees were flesh with your hips, hands resting beside your head. He leaned down, until there was only a few inches in between. 
Your skin was on fire, burning hotter and hotter with each second that passed. Your eyes searched his face for anything to clue you in on his motives, despite already knowing them. Maybe you were just hoping for something different than the usual procedure. 
“Perhaps I can offer some assistance?”
A smirk appeared on his face, eyes shining in the pale light streaming in from the open rooftop. It was trouble, you knew that, but maybe the fallout wouldn’t be so bad. So against your better judgement, you leaned forward, connecting your lips with his. 
His lips were as sweet and soft as they normally were, the scent of him lulling you deeper and deeper into euphoric bliss, like a wave pulling you deeper and deeper into the ocean. All reason left your brain, the only thing it could focus on being him and the feeling of his body pressed against you. You reach a hand up, tangling it in his silver hair. It slides through your fingertips like silk, falling from your hand like a waterfall. Your hand wandered up until you met the braids that held the front pieces of his hair back. You scrape your fingers along his scalp before trailing your hand down. You graze the very tip of his ear, light as a feather. 
He lets out a gasp, the sound swallowed by your mouth. He pulls away for a moment, migrating his lips from your mouth down and down until he’s leaving angel kisses along your neck. 
Then like being woken from a deep sleep with a piercing scream, your eyes shot open. You pull your hands away from Orophin, cradling your hand as if he burnt the flesh. You sit up and attempt to catch your breath, feeling like you ran 10 miles without a break. 
“We need to stop.”
“Why meril?” a sly smirk appeared on his face, as he began to crawl towards you to close the new distance between you two, only pausing when you held a hand out. 
“I’m serious, Orophin,” your voice was stern and confident, the opposite of the chaos that was in your brain. Worldesly, he moves off of you, opting to sit on the other side of you, feet hanging over the side of the bed. 
“What is it?” 
“What are we?” you said, he opens his mouth, but you cut him off, already not liking the glint in his eyes. “I’m being serious.”
A sigh escaped his mouth, causing your heart rate to increase and your anxiety to kick into overdrive. 
The dreaded conversation you always knew would come. 
“I thought we were just, you know, having fun.” The words cut into you like a knife, the pain almost physical. 
“Oh.” 
“It’s just, it’s difficult, I thought you knew that.” he said, some frustration leaking into his voice, whether it was directed at you or him, you didn’t know. “Us together would just be too difficult.” The knife embedded in your heart twists. 
“How can you say that when we aren’t even trying?” you exclaimed, the words rushed and your voice crackling at odd spots. 
“Because I know it to be true.” he said. His voice was short and cold, something you never associated with the warmth Orophin usually radiated. 
You stutter, your brain short circuiting as you attempt to process everything. 
And when your brain finally caught up, Orophin was gone, disappearing into the night.
                                                 o0o0o0o
“You lean too heavily to your right, did you know that?”
You jumped, not far, but enough to break the intense concentration you moments prior had. In your fright, the hand tightly gripping the bow string loosen and before you could react the arrow was released. It pathetically sailed through the arrow, bearing too far to the right. It only managed to get halfway through the training ground before it fell to the ground, like a limp noodle.
Whirling your body, a scowl overcoming your face, you saw Orophin. He was only a few paces away from you, holding a bright red apple that he brought to his mouth and took a bite from. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes when he started making exaggerated noises of delight, his eyes shut as if the apple was the most euphoric thing he'd tasted. 
“What was that for?” you exclaimed, your very short fuse exploding. “You ruined a perfectly good shot!”
 He finished chewing the piece of apple he bit off and then tossed it into the trees. One ashen eyebrow quirked at you as Orophin sauntered towards you, walking with the relaxed confidence only he could manage and a sly smirk on his face. Like clockwork, your heart began pounding in your chest and your face heated up. 
And he knew it too, you could see it in the way his smirk widened just a fraction and his eyes lit up with amusement. 
So you just scowled deeper, narrowing your eyes at him in hope of convincing not only him, but yourself that he didn’t have any effect on you. 
Biggest lie of the century. 
“If it was perfectly good it would’ve hit the target?” he said, his words teasing and light. 
“Well it would’ve if you didn’t distract me!” you replied. You were seething, not because of the arrow, but because of Orophin. He was confusing and infuriating, and perfect in every way. And you hated yourself, hated yourself because you couldn’t hate him, not really. 
“Are you saying I’m distracting? My lady, I am flattered that you can’t focus on anything just by merely hearing my voice!” he exclaimed, smirk contorting into a full blown smile. It’s blindingly bright and captivating, everything the sun shining down on Lothlorien was. 
“That’s not that I said you i-idiot!” 
“Really? That’s what I heard,” he replied, closing the distance between the two of you. He stopped a few inches away from you, close enough that you could hear his heartbeat and feel his breath fanning against you, and if you tried hard enough, you’d momentarily make contact if you breathed hard enough. The intoxicating scent of trees, rain, and something else that was distinctly Orophin. You hated how dizzy it made you feel and you hated that it was easily the sweetest smell you’ve experienced. 
He placed his hand on your tense shoulder and began to turn your body. With eyebrows that nearly touched your hairline, you opened your mouth, prepared to demand to know his intentions, but nothing came out except for a pitiful squawk. He turned your body until you were facing the direction of the training field, staring straight at the target you previously attempted to hit. 
“Relax, you’re as tense as Haldir when we’re on patrol.” He practically purred in your ear, the air from his words tickling your ear in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. 
“What are you doing?” You were cautious and on high alert, full well knowing how things with Orophin usually ended. 
“Fixing your form. it’s not bad for a human, but you’re with the Eldar now,” he whispered. Orophin wrapped one arm around your waist and brought the other one to rest underneath the elbow of your bow arm. His touch was light and delicate, feeling more like the caress of a ghost than a corporeal person. And like a machine, you brought the bow up into position, placing a fresh arrow into proper position with a single fluid movement. 
“I also wanted to apologize for last night. I should not have stormed out the way I did.”
“It’s okay,” you said, your voice hoarse and rough, like a sharp rock.
“It’s not, but I appreciate the sentiment. Now let’s get back to the archery lesson, mell nin.”
“Mell nin. That means my dear?” You turned to face him, eyes widened like a doe as you carefully watched his face. His eyes locked with yours, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly. He grinned at you with a look more radiant and shining than before. Gods, you could go blind if you stared at him for too long, but it would be worth it. Blindness wouldn’t be so bad if his face would be burned into your mind for the rest of your life. 
“You’ve been catching on”
“Sometimes I listen,” you replied, keeping your voice low so as to not disturb the quiet aura that encapsulated the two of you. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Orophin this soft with you, usually he was all mischief and sex appeal. But now he was… at ease and relaxed, like he didn’t have to put on any airs. 
It was… nice.
Your lips tilted upwards as your eyes shined like starlight. Your erratic heartbeat slowed until it was in time with Orophin’s. Your eyes flickered down to his lips then back to his eyes. He followed your movements, not eyeing you like a predator but with… something else. Something you’ve seen the elves share with their husband or wife, the type of softness and vulnerability only present with someone you really care about. 
And you know, without a shadow of a doubt where Orophin’s thoughts stood seeing as he verbalised them last night in your room. You knew he didn't see this going anywhere permanent. Yet the look in his eyes and the complete ease he has around you says otherwise.
And then it’s suddenly cold. And before you have a chance to even blink, Orophin is gone, again.
                                                  o0o0o0o
“You can come out now, you pointy eared dummy!” you yelled, flailing your arms wildly as you do so, the wine bottle precariously held in your fingertips slipping and falling to the ground. Your eyes follow it, watching with wide eyes as the bottle hits the forest floor, bubbly liquid pouring out of the open top. 
“Shit,” you muttered, but made no move to pick it up. 
“That’s not very nice,” a soft melodic voice said from behind you. It was beautiful and light… you hated it. Whirling around, your legs wobbled as you began to lose your balance. Orophin surged forward to steady you, but you slapped his arm away.
“Don-- don’t touch me. No means no Oro,” you said, stumbling backwards until you fell to the ground, landing on your butt. Pain immediately flared up in the area, a pathetic whimper leaving your mouth. 
“Are you hurt?” he asked, moving towards you with slow and exaggerated movements, treating you like a scared baby. The thought caused you to scoff. You probably were a baby to half of the people here. Stupid elves and their stupid immortality.  
“Yes, emotionally and physically,” you said, closing your eyes and holding your head up, attempting to keep a sliver of your dignity. “But mainly physically right now.” 
“Maybe you shouldn’t drink so much then.” Once he was close enough, Orophin sat on the ground, his knees ghosting your skin. It burned like hot coals, singing the skin. 
“Maybe you shouldn’t drink more!” You pointed a finger at him and scowled, attempting to appear menacing. And in your mind, you were, except your finger couldn’t stay still and your face looked more like a pouting puppy than a fearsome killer. It would’ve made Orophin laugh if not for the sorrow poorly hidden in your eyes and your current pathetic state. He didn’t have to ask, he knew it was because of him. 
“I haven’t had any wine today,” he said, using the same tone he did when he found you alone in the Lorien woods all those months ago. When he had to coax you out from behind the mallorn trees after narrowly escaping a pack of orcs that got too close to Lorien.  
“Not my problem.”
“Of course! I must bear this burden on my own, my lady.” His tone was overly exaggerated. Against your better judgement, a smirk pulled at the corner of your lips, faint chuckle escaping between your lips.
“There’s that smile,” he teased, reaching forward and poking your cheek.
“Stop treating me like a child you stupid dolphin fin,” you muttered angrily, swatting at his invading hand. “I’m an adult you know.”
“Of course you are.”
“And don’t you forget it, buster!” You pointed a finger in his general direction, eyes still firmly shut. 
The two of you sit in silence for a moment, allowing the quiet atmosphere to swallow you whole. Orophin sighed, moving so he sat beside you, careful to not touch you.
“What’s wrong meleth? Why did you drink so much? Normally it’s near impossible to get you to drink more than two glasses when we’re together,” His voice is quiet and serious. 
‘Don’t call me love like that, you fool. You don’t love me, not really,” you muttered, leaning your head against the tree behind you. The silver bark is softer than you thought it would’ve been. Certainly not as rough and coarse as the ones back home.
“And how do you know that?” His eyes burned into your skin, like the sun bouncing off of a magnifying glass and incinerating small ants. 
“In case you’ve forgotten, you’re the one who said we couldn’t be together.” you said, opening your eyes for the first time since he sat by you. You searched his face for anything, but you couldn’t read him, probably due to your state of intoxication. 
“That’s not wh--” he began but you promptly cut him off by placing your hand over his mouth.
“But it’s how it was received. I get it Orophin, I’m human you're an elf,--” you obnoxiously exaggerated the word. “--your oil and I’m water, I get it now, don’t worry. It’s cool, there were no rules, so it’s on me that I let it get this far,” You told him. 
And you tried. You really tried to sound unbothered and nonchalant, to be as cold as ice. But the words were hollow, exposing how hurt you really were. 
Stupid elf. 
“You have to understand how diff--” Once again, you cut him off, the words being swallowed by the palm of your hand. 
“No, you don’t understand. I’ve played your little game for months and I’m tired of it. You hear me? Tired!” you exclaimed. You leaned forward and attempted to stand from your sitting position, however as soon as you moved, the world around you grew fuzzy, Orophin multiplying into two. 
“Be careful,” he snapped at you as he reached out to grab a hold of you. He pulled you from the ground, but you violently ripped away from him. 
“Don’t touch me you-- you, you big dummy!” you yelled, pushing him away and onto the forest floor. The fall was broken by the lush greenery that covers the Lorien first floor, so he easily scrambled up. You stumbled away, in your mind moving at the speed of lightning, however you were only able to get five paces away before falling to the ground. 
Tears of frustration and sadness built up in your eyes, your hands clenching tightly into fists. Hot tears streamed down your face, as you lay there on the floor like a baby throwing a tantrum. You smacked your fist against the ground, the throbbing pain dulled by alcohol. 
“I hate you, you know that? I hate you because I really don’t,” you muttered, already knowing Orophin was standing behind you. He said nothing and you couldn’t decide if that was better or worse. 
“I just- I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want to keep sneaking around like I’m some horrible secret. I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep getting small pieces of you.” 
You turned and looked at him, eyes tear stained and your face splotching and red. God you were a mess. And in the glimmer of the starlight, you saw a faint stream of tears falling down his cheeks, landing on the ground. God, they even cry pretty.
“Y/N--” he began, taking a single step towards you, causing you to scoot forward, sliding across the forest like a toddler who can’t walk right. 
“God, I love you, and that’s probably the worst thing you’ve ever heard,” you muttered. Your mind no longer felt foggy from the wine, your eyes glossy from tears and not a state of intoxication. You stood up, and walked away, leaving Orophin behind. And the hand he held outstretched towards you slowly fell limp as he watched you walk away. 
                                              o0o0o0o
It had been months since you’d last spoken to Orophin. Time passed agonizingly slow, minutes becoming centuries, yet everything felt like a haze at the same time. Every day regret would beat against you, pushing you further and further into a never ending abyss. It was odd not having Orophin intruding on your day in some way, scarily enough, it was almost like Orophin was never there. The phantom of where he used to touch you burned like ice until you were nearly numb all over your body. 
God it was hell, trying to keep up with his whirlwind of emotions, trying to decipher if you were just having a fun time or if he truly cared for you. It was exhausting being in a constant state of turmoil, your heart bleeding nearly every second, only to be lazily patched up with every kiss. But at least you had a piece of him, even if it was just a sliver. 
You did everything to give off the illusion of being preoccupied. You went wandering through the forest collecting flowers, you practiced embroidering and then practiced again, you read the same three books over and over again, but everything always came back to Orophin. And for that you were glad he was gone with the other Wardens, patrolling the forest. The orcs were growing more bold in their attacks, so Haldir increased the watch and the Warden’s time away. You didn’t trust your self control, and if Orophin was just within your grasp, you would’ve caved long ago. Falling back into him and whatever he was willing to give you, only to begin the hellish cycle all over again. 
For once you were grateful for Haldir’s extreme dedication to his job. 
So now you lay in your favorite clearing, lazily flipping through a book you’ve already memorized, the grass cocooning you, leaving angel kisses on your body. The sound of grass crumpling beneath someone’s step brought you from your thoughts. Looking up, you saw Orophin, standing with the trees. He was wearing his Lorien cloak, weaved in every color of the forest to better conceal the wearer, and his leather armor with his bow loosely held at his side. 
You stared at him and he looked back. His eyes were wide and hopeful, nearly glossy in the light. His lips were pulled in a thin line, and you could see him chewing on the inside of his lips. 
“What are you doing here?” you asked, slowly closing your book and placing it beside you. You sat up, but didn't stand. You refuse to be the one to leave. 
“You were wrong.” 
“What?” you asked, eyes narrowed at him as you purse your lips. 
“You were wrong.” he stated again, as if it would suddenly become clearer to you. 
“I don’t under--” you began but he cut you off. Like the wind, he rushed towards you, his bow forgotten on the forest floor where he used to stand. He slid onto his knees so he was level with you, grasping your hands in his and surged forward, the force knocking you to the ground. 
“What are you--” You started to say, face immediately turning red and your heart rate increasing. And then he’s kissing you. Not with his usual playfulness, or the lust that laced every touch, but it was nice and soft and sweet. More akin to an innocent first kiss rather than the fire he usually possessed. And as soon as his lips were on you, they were off, but he didn’t move, and you didn’t want him to. 
“You were wrong. It isn’t the worst thing I’ve ever heard.” he muttered, his breath tickling your lips. 
Oh. 
Oh.
In that moment it clicked, the foggy memoires you have of that night coming back to you. You’d uttered that exact phrase to him, “I love you, and that’s probably the worst thing you ever heard.” Against your better judgement, a small smile forms on your lips and this time it was you closing the distance. 
“I love you, meleth nin. I. Love. You.” he punctuated each word with a kiss, causing your skin to burn where his lips touched. “And I’m sorry I refused to admit it for so long.”
“You better be,” you replied, pulling his body closer to you, if that was physically possible. 
“Does this mean I’m forgiven?” he asked, pulling away from your lips. You smirked at him, eyes alight with the mischief that was missing for so long. 
“No, but that could be earned,” you said, playing with the fine hair at the nape of his neck. 
“I must warn you, it’s going to be a lot of hard work,” you teased, pressing your lips to the corner of his lips. A small whine left his mouth as he attempted to capture your lips fully with his. 
“Then it’s a good thing I’m a dedicated Warden.”
“We’ll see about that.”
                                                   o0o0o0o
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@kenobiguacamole​ | @aearonnin​ | @emiliessketches​ | @vibratingbones​ | @ranhanabi777​
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