#lmk if yall like this and i might do it again? or i might anyway
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dawntheduckrb · 2 months ago
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Edward Hopper
(from beginning, Nighthawks, 1942; Automat, 1927; Summer Evening, 1947; Early Sunday Morning, 1930; New York Movie, 1939; House at Dusk, 1935; Room in New York, 1932)
Modernist work is all about critiquing the arrival of modern society; celebrating it's advances in technology and culture and the arrival of a new, energetic way to live... or turning it's back on the chaos, sinfulness, and loneliness of city life and seeking a return to an older, more "civil" way of living. A notable amount of Modernist work sits somewhere on this spectrum, more often than not acknowledging how hectic modern society has become with things busy compositions or offensively bright colors, or... bold... use of the human figure (whatever that meant at the time, at least).
Hopper's work here carries those same ideas, but his execution of them was a bit of a change of pace. When looking at his work, there's a sort of mellow tone that highlights the emptiness and spaciousness of modern life in these less-exciting moments; the silence of a lone worker in between movie showings... the eerie emptiness of a street right at dawn, at a moment between the fun parties and the start of the work day... a moment of time at a cafe or a bar, with people coming to sit in silence after work, or maybe even to find something to wake up to after a sleepless night.
When I discussed these works in a class this year, we couldn't decide whether these seemed to be criticizing society for having turned out this way, or if these scenes were made simply to say, "this exists, and this is what life has become, whether you want to think about it or not." Even now, I'm still mixed; despite that, these still resonated with me. These peaceful moments are valuable times of respite, but sometimes seems to highlight just how tired everyone is. Or, to quote my professor, "what the world looks like when coffee stops being something to partake in socially and turns into a requirement to make it through the day. "
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catscidr · 9 months ago
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// taking care of your dogboy (hsr edition!) //
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i. note — sry i havent been posting yall i got a job + ive been working on three cosplays at the same time bc my local con is coming up lmao (´ཀ`」 ∠) however the brainrot never stops. it only takes a break. a little break of approximatively. a month. ish. ......... anyways dog hybrid hsr boys brainrot !!! lmk if we want more of this with more boys •ᴗ• comments and asks are appreciated hehe ii. includes — blade, gepard, boothill and gn!reader iii. cw — slice of life stuff turning into smut, possessive behaviour, overstim, slight dom/sub dynamics, real messy stuff, manhandling. use of the word "hole" to keep reader gender neutral iv. wc — 1,9k
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blade is a mutt riddled in scars and dirty bandages from living on the streets and fighting to survive.
you think he might be some german shepherd mix, but he refuses to let you swab his teeth n gums for a dna test (last time you tried you narrowly avoided a punch to the face. he apologized in his own way afterwards), so whenever people ask, just say he’s a rescue to avoid revealing that you actually just… don’t really know what breed he is. they usually drop the subject and simply go on their merry way, seeing as he wasn’t the type of pup to appreciate affection from strangers anyways– it’s rare for you to leave the house in the first place, though.
you had to switch to a remote job because blade is just so persistent when it comes to you. although possessive is a much better descriptor, because he doesn’t let anyone near you. whenever you leave to get groceries he ends up practically breathing down your neck from how close he gets— acting as if he were your literal shadow— glaring at everyone that gets too close to you. you’ve made it a habit to always go to self-checkout lane so blade doesn’t scare off the cashiers.
the second you get home he’s all over you, determined to rid you of that outside stench and replace it with his own. you started packing your grocery bags in a way that nothing will break if (read: when) you suddenly drop them on the floor, all because you’re so familiar with blade’s impatience.
he holds you still by engulfing your body with his, knees caging your hips as he grinds into you, shallow and deep. blade’s growls and huffs fill your ears just as much as his cock fills your hole, his knot kissing your tightness from the outside.
“do you like this? like how i have to fuck you every time you decide to go outside again when you could stay here,” with me blade omits, his tail swishing back and forth on the bedsheets behind him, the sound just barely grounding you to reality.
your grocery bags were long forgotten on the foor (as they usually are), your mind too foggy to function. clawing at the sheets, you try to crawl away from blade’s grip— to no avail.
he tuts, craning his head to bite down onto the skin where your shoulder meets your neck. “i might just need to mark you for extra precaution,” he bucks into you, knocking the air out of your lungs. you hear squelching, the constant plap! plap! plap! from his thighs smacking against your ass and whine, broken babbles leaving your kiss-bruised lips.
“b-blade, y’can’t- ah,” he shushes you by plugging you full of his lengthy cock, his knot almost threatening to press inside of you. you whimper, feeling lightheaded from a mix of both nervousness and arousal.
he soothes the hickey he left on your neck, licking it languidly as he stills to bask into the way your hole throbs around him. warm and tight and oh so tempting.
“shit, wanna fill you. wanna… have everyone know they can’t have you. you’re mine, mine to love ‘n mine to fuck,” you’re not lucid enough to process his thinly veiled confession, too busy writhing your ass back against him in a feeble attempt to get him to continue moving.
you might want to invest into some good concealer or into those skin coloured tattoo patches to cover the bruises and bite marks blade’ll leave on you if you want to continue being a functioning member of society. you can’t really be walking around in public as if a dog had just mauled you right before you left the house, can you?
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gepard is a golden retriever because of COURSE he is. similarly to blade, he likes to invade your personal space a lot— not because he’s possessive, but because he’s extremely protective of you.
the random bruises you used to randomly notice on your body faded as soon as he came into your life. gepard’s soft, lingering touches healed them; gently placing a hand on your hip before you bump into sharp furniture so it doesn’t hit you, redirecting your head to his shoulder as you nod-off in the train before you bang your head, and so on.
it’s a full-time job and he’s working 24/7, always on the lookout for anything that could possibly hurt you as you saunter off… wherever, without a care in the world— because he took care of everything!
he would clean the apartment for you, cook (though you usually insist you do the cooking; a human doesn’t have the same taste in food as a hybrid), and even act as your own personal alarm clock. gone were the days of being woken up by loud, blaring beeping. gepard woke you up with forehead kisses instead, making your mornings much more pleasant.
but poor geppie, he’s always taking care of you; so take care of him, won’t you?
every so often you’ll sit in his lap to help him get rid of whatever stress he held in his body. your hands will knead at the muscles in his broad shoulders, all while you simultaneously kiss away the strain in his face. his brows are furrowed as you do your best to soothe his muscles; you never forget to smooch his cheek, nose and the corner of his lips.
though the attention and gentle acts of affection always ends with your hands lower than they should be.
“ah ah, no touching, remember?” you murmur in his ear playfully. you had been at it for what felt like hours; gepard’s cock and abdomen was smeared with the remnants of his cum, skin tacky from his previous loads. your hand shows no sign of stopping, not even when he begged oh so sweetly.
“c-come onn. just… jus’ wanna kiss…” and who were you to deny your sweet boy? your lips find his in a heartbeat, his tongue swiping over your own sloppily as he breathes you in like a depraved man.
the only condition you had when you did this was for him to keep his hands to himself— at least until you both decide to move on to something else. until then, his fists clench the sheets beneath the both of you, and his ears stay flat on his fluffy head.
“i’m… i’m close again, g- aah, please, please…!” he begs, cock weeping precum as you continuously jerk him off. you smile, absentmindedly rocking your hips to the rhythm you held him prisoner to— gepard was too engulfed in the warmth of your hand to notice, anyways. “cum whenever you want sweet boy,” you purr, and he keens as he buries his face in your neck, his hips lifting off the bed ever so slightly as they meet your hand and he thrusts, riding the high of his orgasm.
sticky cum coats your hand for the nth time; you relent your grip on his cock for his sake, instead choosing to shower him with chaste kisses all over his face. gepard whines, taking ahold of your waist weakly as he breathes into the crook of your neck.
“geppie, your han-“ he cuts you off, swiftly switching positions so you’re now laying on your back as he hovers over you, chest rising and falling quickly, catching his breath from the intensity of his orgasm. gepard’s tail wags slowly behind him as his hands creep up from your waist to your chest just as slowly- you feel his cock harden against your pelvis, precum spilling from his pinky tip.
“‘ts my turn now,” he huffs, leaning down to nip at your neck.
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boothill is the most obnoxious dalmatian hybrid you’ve ever seen (not that you’ve seen many, or at all). but he’s made your life so fun so you can’t be too mad at him
he’s always dragging you out of bed to go do something— could be going to the park nearby or sit in the living room playing video games on your dusty console, it doesn’t matter because he’ll MAKE you step out of your cozy nest!!
you’re glad he’s friendly, because you’re not sure how you would handle such an excited hybrid when you left the house. people come up to the both of you to chat and he indulges their questions, essentially leading the conversation (while you stand there awkwardly, not knowing what to say).
boothill is also great with kids, unexpectedly. 9 times out of 10 when you go to the park he ends up playing with someone’s child, bright smile on his face as he messes up their hair with a rough hand. they’ll throw a frisbee for him to go catch and he’ll do it happily, or he’ll even… teach them how to beat people up.
(you stare mortified as he teaches a little girl how to throw a proper punch only for her to then punch her parent when she leaves boothill’s side. you go up to them and apologize profusely, forcing boothill to bow with you.)
he also loves to help you out, even though he’s not the greatest at household chores— but he definitely tries! though he is a stellar cook, which never fails to surprise you whenever he’s on dinner duty. he just… really sucks at everything else.
it’s… mostly because he just has so much energy. he sweeps the floor? nope, he’s picking off the pieces of the broom off of the floor because he accidentally broke it. he’s fixing your bed? nuh uh, you’re throwing out the ruined bedsheets because he accidentally tore them to shreds somehow.
so, with all of these accidents happening because he’s just brimming with energy 24/7, you started purposely exhausting him. or, rather, gave him the green light to exhaust you until he tires himself out.
“booth-aah, w-wait, you’re being too…!” you fall over on top of his hard chest, keening at the new angle his cock reached inside of you. he repeated his assault on the spot that made you see stars as your jaw gaped, broken moans leaving your lips.
“don’t tell me y’re tapping out.. haa, already!” boothill grunts, his grip on your hips tightening. he throws his head back with a loud moan, abs tensing as he nears yet another climax— the 5th one of the night. maybe, maybe not. you lost count after the third one.
you bury your face into the crook of his neck, focusing on the feeling of his cock plugging you full instead of the soreness, the burn in your muscles that came from your knees holding you up on his lap.
watching you riding him will always be his favourite thing in the world, even if he always ends up fucking up into you and taking back control at the end of the night.
“gonna cu-uum…” you whine, clenching around his length almost painfully tightly, hearing his breathing hitch as an orgasm is ripped out of him in consequence to yours. boothill’s fingers dig into your ass, his hips lifting off the bed as he cums deep inside of your sloppy hole again, sticky fluid building up beneath the sheets.
you collapse on top of him fully, chest heaving against his own as you come back to your senses, slowly but surely. boothill’s ears perk up, hearing how your breathing had evening out.
“so… got another round in ya?”
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haartemis · 1 month ago
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CROSS THE LINE II | Jude Bellingham
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pairing: jude bellingham x fem!reader, unnamed fictional RM player x fem!reader
word count: 2.5k
summary: after a fallout with your boyfriend, you find solace in a spontaneous night at the movies, where you run into his golden boy teammate. one thing leads to another and you cross the line. what happens next?
A/N: happy holidays yall 🥳 lmk what you guys think!! <3
warnings: infidelity (once again, i don't condone it. 🫣), non explicit smut
PART ONE
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before all of this, you’d always imagined an affair as something out of a movie: clandestine meetings, tensions running high, stolen moments, secret rendezvous. but in reality, it’s messier, quieter. it’s second guessing yourself every step of the way, staring at your reflection and admitting you’re a horrible person time and time again, and then doing it anyway. 
it doesn’t start with a bang, no dramatic explosion of passion. after the night at the cinema, things unfold slowly. you text every single day for weeks, conversations ranging from the mundane to the deep. you learn about each other, piece by piece. and jude, you realize, is like quicksand. the more you discover, the deeper you sink. he’s too funny, too kind, too good. unfairly handsome, and somehow better for it.
he has an uncanny way of making you unravel. of making you open up so easily that sometimes you don't notice it's happening. you, usually reserved and guarded, find yourself sharing without hesitation. you suppose its the way there's no judgement from him, no disinterest or impatience.
and then there’s the way he lets you in. with every detail he shares, every message, he pulls you in like a magnet you can’t resist. he tells you about the running joke he’s had with his best friend for years, humor inexplicable to anyone but the two of them. the trivial argument he had with his brother that was inconsequential but still annoying enough to stick in his mind. his new favorite song, sent with a note about how it makes him feel. formative memories he’ll never forget, now shared with you. it’s as though he’s placing his heart on a silver platter, daring you: know me. know me and want me.  
and you do. want him, that is.
that’s the exact reason why you find yourself in his bed one afternoon. 
his room is dimly lit, the curtains drawn against the waning sun. you sit on the edge of the bed, your hands twisting in your lap, nerves running high. jude sits beside you, eyes locked on yours, searching for the final hint of hesitation. a sign that you might leave. but you don’t move. you can’t.
when he leans in, his fingers brushing against your cheek, it feels inevitable. of course you’re here, with him. where else would you be? his touch is warm, grounding, and when his lips finally meet yours, it feels like everything that’s ever happened in the world has led to this moment.
his hands find your waist, sliding under your shirt as the kiss deepens. his touch is firm and warm, yet capable of sending shivers down your spine. you don’t stop him when he pulls your shirt over your head or when his lips trail down your neck, leaving your skin tingling.
 “what are we doing?” you murmur almost to yourself as he bites on a sensitive spot. 
jude pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and full of desire, but there’s something else there too: something deeper, more vulnerable. 
“whatever you want” he says, his voice low, his hand grazing your cheek tenderly. “i want this. i want you”
you nod wordlessly, and the rest happens in a blur. his weight presses you into the mattress, his skin warm under your fingertips as you trace the muscles of his back. he kisses you like he can’t help himself, and you kiss him back just as desperately. plush lips and calloused hands taking their liberties, roaming all over your body, eliciting sounds and sensations you’ve never experienced with anyone else. you don’t hold back either, not when his golden brown skin is all yours to explore, to kiss, to bite. to revel in. 
he moves against you, his hands gripping your hips as you arch into him. there’s nothing slow or tentative about it now. his movements are purposeful and you meet him with equal attention . when he finally pushes inside you, you let out a rush of breath, almost like a sigh of relief. it’s overwhelming, the way he fits perfectly inside of you, the way it feels familiar and routine, like he’s done this a hundred times before. 
the room is filled with the sound of your heavy breathing, the creak of the mattress as he rhythmically thrusts into you, his low murmurs against your skin that range from curses to your name to soft groans. your nails dig into his back, and he doesn’t flinch, only moves harder, deeper, his focus entirely on you. “you feel so perfect, so good” he whispers, like its a confession he’s been waiting to make for the longest time. 
you don’t think about the guilt or the consequences. there’s only jude, the way he feels, the way he moves. for now, that’s all that matters.
afterwards, you lie in bed, your head on his chest, his hand softly grazing your now frizzy curls. his heartbeat is steady beneath your ear, a comforting sound. 
“so,” you say, breaking the silence as you trace his chiseled chest with your finger. “you won’t believe what happened at work today. this guy left his mic on during a teams meeting and got caught badmouthing our boss.”
jude’s chest vibrates beneath you as he laughs silently. “no way. what did he say?”
you tell the story, and he listens intently, chuckling softly. you think two things: first, never in your life did you imagine having pillow talk with jude bellingham. and second, the knowledge that you made him laugh gives you such a rush of serotonin you want do it over and over again.
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seasons change, your situation doesn’t. months go by and jude and you are sneaking around. no one knows, not even your closest friend or your mother– people who know you better than anyone, people who love and accept the parts of you that you consider deeply embarrassing and shameful. you don’t share this, because it’s different. this secret is well and truly a condemnation of your character. but that doesn’t mean you want to stop.  
you find yourself at a real madrid christmas party one evening. you’re there with your boyfriend, of course. the man who feels more and more like a stranger as the days go by. the man in whose phone, just last night, you’d found incriminating dms with an instagram model. it hadn’t fazed you. after all, you were doing the same.
you sip on a glass of champagne, watching jude from across the room. he’s in his element, charming everyone from the staff to the players to the wags. his laugh carries over to where you’re standing, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering at the sound. 
and yet, despite all the mingling, he hasn’t approached you.
you hate yourself for keeping track, but you’ve noticed. he’s made his rounds, talking to everyone, making small talk that leaves people grinning. but you? not a glance, not a word. it’s like you’re invisible.
you can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy as you watch a group of wags giggling at something he says, leaning in closer as if trying to soak up his presence. your nails dig into the stem of your glass, and you have to remind yourself to breathe.
“you okay?” your boyfriend asks, his hand resting lightly on your lower back. you must be having a very visible reaction for even him to notice.
“fine” you lie, forcing a smile. don’t touch me, is what you really want to say.
you’re not fine though. not as you steal another glance at jude, who’s now leaning against the bar, talking to vini. he looks relaxed, like he hasn’t a care in the world, like he doesn’t feel the tension that’s suffocating you.
you tell yourself it’s better this way. no one is gonna suspect anything if he avoids you. but still, it stings.
and then, as if he senses your eyes on him, he finally looks your way. the moment is brief, a flicker of recognition  before he looks away quickly, returning his attention to vini like nothing happened.
the champagne in your glass suddenly feels too heavy, and you set it down on the nearest table before excusing yourself to the restroom.
Inside the rest room, you splash cold water on your face, hoping it will calm the heat in your chest, the ache in your gut. but it doesn’t.
the sound of the restroom door opening makes you freeze. you glance up and flinch when you see jude.he steps inside, shutting the door quietly behind him, his eyes locking on yours immediately.
you watch silently as he leans back against the door, his hands shoved into the pockets of his suit pants. he looks calm but his jaw is visibly clenched. 
“you’ve been avoiding me” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.
“i had to” he replies, his voice low. “you know why”
you do know why. but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.
“you talked to everyone in that room except me” you continue, voice sharper than you expect. “it’s like i don’t even exist to you”
“you think i wanted to ignore you? do you know how hard it is to be in the same room as you and pretend like–” he cuts himself off, hands rubbing the back of his neck.
“pretend like what?” 
“like i don’t want you,” he says, the words coming out in a rush. “like i don’t think about you all the time. like i’m not going crazy knowing you’re here with him”
“then why avoid me?” you ask, your voice trembling.
“because if i talked to you” he says, stepping even closer. “if i got too close, i don’t know if i could stop myself”
your lips meet just then, as if drawn together like magnets. you kiss fiercely, desperately. his hands find your waist, pulling you flush against him. you can taste the sweet champagne on his lips, can feel the heat from his warm hands. when you pull away, you’re breathless, but you feel renewed. like touching him made up for the fact that you had to put up with your boyfriend for the whole evening. 
“i’m breaking up with him tonight” you blurt. “I found out he’s been cheating”
“what an asshole” jude says without skipping a beat.
you laugh bitterly as you adjust the top of his turtleneck. “i’m doing the same thing”
jude smirks. “yeah, bit hypocritical isn’t it?” he says, and you both burst out laughing, the sound echoing loudly in the bathroom. 
you sit with it for a bit, the weight of your actions settling in between you two, both of you knowing what an awful thing you’re doing. you, to someone who’s been a partner of yours for some time. him, to his teammate who he doesn’t particularly like, but still owes some loyalty to, some obligation of decency.
“i don’t regret it” he says quietly, as if reading your thoughts. he grabs your hand and enterwines your fingers.  “i don’t regret any of it”
“me too” you murmur. and you mean it. 
that night, you keep your word and dump your boyfriend. it's an anti climactic ending, both of you mentally checked out of the relationship in the end to even care. still, you feel the weight lifting off your shoulder. good riddance.
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that's how an affair with your boyfriend’s teammate unfolds and then ends. if you’re wondering how a relationship with your ex’s teammate begins, here it is: first, you scrub any trace of your previous relationship off the internet (you were always pretty private anyway). then, you gaslight everyone who knows all three of you into believing the relationship was never that serious, so what's the harm if you're seeing the other guy now? stranger things have happened. thankfully said ex-boyfriend conveniently leaves the team and the country at the end of the season, so it makes things easier for you. third step is to keep a careful distance from your new man in public for several months to maintain the illusion that there was no overlap with your past... relationship? situationship? or was it friendship? we’ll never know. finally, hard launch on a sunny afternoon at one of your favorite cafes in madrid, on a random wednesday in late summer. that’s how you do it.
so here you are, seated across from each other. you sip on a latte; jude’s having tea. he’s just come back from an adidas shoot, and he’s exhausted, you can tell by the tired smile on his face and by the way his body is slouched slightly in his chair. the only expression of affection he can muster is the soft brush of his leg against yours under the table. 
you chat about the book you’re currently reading, how the price of pastries in the cafe are atrociously high. yet again, you marvel at how easy it is with him. talking, laughing, slipping into comfortable silences. its like you’ve known him for years. 
“someone’s taking a pic” he nods towards someone behind you. you don’t look back, just smile softly. “going according to plan” he murmurs, taking a sip of his tea. 
you’re silent, thinking about how luckly you are, to have him, to be with him. you continue to chat, and now you’re on the topic of the show you’re watching. jude confesses he watched an episode without you on the plane back from an away game, and you gasp indignantly, kicking his leg under the table. 
“ow” he mutters. “i couldn’t sleep!”
“you couldn't watch anything else?” you say, dabbing at a coffee stain that had tainted the sleeve of your shirt. When you look up, jude’s looking at you with such a tender look on his face that you want to look away. 
“what?” you say, half self consciously. 
“nothing” he grins. “its just that you’re so beautiful. everytime i look at you it gets better”
your stomach is immediately filled with butterflies, and all you can do is grin back at him shyly, cheeks heating up from his words. sometimes being with him feels like you’re on a rollercoaster ride, in a good way. except the rush you get is from basking in his warmth, in his love, in his presence. 
needless to say it was all worth it in the end. thank god for late night cinema trips. 
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caydennnnnnn · 6 months ago
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don't worry darling.. -m.s.
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ALEXA PLAY KIWI BY HARRY STYLES
"scream for me, baby." matt demands lowly in your ear while thrusting into you passionately from behind.
you don't even remember how you got here to be honest, maybe it was because the boy behind you had fucked you completely dumb to the point you could really only remember his name but that's beside the point,
the last thing you remember was you arguing with your best friend over something you yet again, do not remember and now you were on all fours in his bed edging toward your third but not final orgasm of the night.
"matt, i-" you start, "scream." he cuts you off as he swoops his hand under your body to rub harsh, fast, circles on your clit.
giving up on trying to speak and obeying his orders, you let out a scream like moan as you feel your orgasm wash over you like water from a waterfall. your vision goes blurry as your entire body tenses up with pleasure.
"good girl, beautiful" matt whispers in your ear. he follows quickly behind you with a few more grunts and thrusts, he lets out an almost pornographic moan as you feel his warm fluids mix with yours and paint your hot insides.
after you both ride out your highs, you collapse onto the bed below you. as you do so, matt pulls out and flops on his back to the left of you.
you both take a minute to catch your breath, he then turns on his side to rub your back. "you okay, sweetheart?" his voice raspy and deep from all those beautiful noises he was making moments before.
you look at him with a sweet, tired, tight lipped smile as you nod your head in agreement.
he leans over to kiss your forehead as you hum and look up at him. you close the space between you two with an innocent but passionate kiss.
he flops back on his back with him still facing you with a smile. you push up on your elbows as you take a deep inhale and give him another smile as you exhale.
"that was amazing, matt. thank you" you say to him in a tone just above a whisper.
he looks down as he does a breathy chuckle to himself. he looks back up at you with an unreadable look in his eyes as he sighs then smirks, he pushes your long silky hair behind your ear. you flash him a confused look.
"don't worry darling.." he starts as he leans in once more, your noses centimeters away from touching. his face drops as his eyes turn dark, glaring at you almost as if he's looking into your soul. he then continues, "this is just the beginning."
a/n: hiiii :p this is so short but its the first fic ive ever wrote 😭😭 im not good at the grammar shit so if this is bad someone pleaaseeee call me out. the lowercase is all intended btw, anyway if yall like this i might do more just lmk :) i love you all sm
-your fav guy sturniolo fan, caydenn :33
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just-a-creep-babe · 2 years ago
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A Demon’s Ache — Part 6
Eyeless Jack x Reader Smut
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
Commissioned by @cookiereblogss thank you so so much for the support, I appreciate it so! Damn much!! 💖💖
I hope everyone's still enjoying the story ^^ I know it might seem like I'm padding stuff out, but I promise there's a reason for it!! Anyways, I'm entirely open to hearing your genuine thoughts about how things are moving forwards, plz don't be shy to lmk! And I hope yall enjoy this part 6!!
Requests are closed but commissions are open!
Check out my Patreon if you’d like to support me!
Masterlist: x
He can’t do it
He knows he’s a coward
But he just can’t face you
He can’t confront you, he doesn’t have it in him
Especially not after what he did outside your door
And since then, whenever he’s seen you walk by, whenever your paths have met, he’s had to turn away because of the guilt and shame fluttering in his chest
Even just this morning, when you offered him a smile as you passed him down the hall, he could barely face you
It looked like you wanted to talk to him, but he couldn’t even bring himself to look you in the eyes, much less have a civilized discussion with you
He’s a fucking coward
You probably think he’s upset with you
He doesn’t know what to do with himself, doesn’t know how to deal with the mess he’s created
So, he eventually resorts to the one person that’s offered any kind of help up until this point
He reaches the familiar clearing lined by the rotting wooden fence
And he almost can’t believe his misfortune when he sees that you’re there—flushed, panting and sweaty, chatting with Hoodie and Masky by the edges of the training ground
That’s right, he remembers you’ve been training with Hoodie recently
He tries to force down the jealousy blooming in his chest like familiar heartache
And he almost turns away to avoid you again
But then Hoodie looks up, and a grin appears on his face at the sight of Jack approaching
The proxy looks back down at you, then nudges his head towards the demon
You turn to look at what he’s gesturing towards
And then Jack locks eyes with you
Fuck
He can’t keep running away from you
He takes in a deep breath to steel his nerves, then keeps walking to join up with the three of you
The two proxies nod at him, and you offer him another smile, similar to the one you gave him earlier today
God, that smile
“Came here to train as well?”
Hoodie’s voice snaps him from his daze
That’s right, he should probably stop staring at you
He clears his throat, tries to act natural
“Yeah,” he lies, and then to sound more believable, he adds, “I figured you could use more practice after I won so easily last time”
Hoodie snorts
“Hey, hey, don’t act like I didn’t get a few good ones in on you”
“You? Land some good hits on him?” Masky suddenly interjects with a sarcastic huff, “c’mon, man, your lies are usually more believable than that”
“Watch it, old man, you’re in no condition to start a fight,” Hoodie playfully threatens his partner with a light kick to his leg, which has Masky grunting in pain
And that’s when Jack finally notices the crutches leaning up against the fence next to Masky
“You fucking—“
Masky makes a move to retaliate, but Hoodie jumps back, and the injured proxy can’t go through with his attack
“What happened?” Jack asks, interrupting them with a nod toward the crutches
“Twisted my fucking ankle,” the proxy answers, shooting a death glare through his mask at his partner, “and then I got a nice little ax jammed into my calf. Damaged some nerves or something, I don’t know”
Jack hums
What would otherwise be a grave injury for a normal human was usually just a minor inconvenience for one of Slender’s proxies
The perks of getting your soul snatched up by a devil, Jack supposes
“You sure you don’t want me to take a look at it?” he offers, but Masky just shakes his head
“I’ll be fine, just sitting these sessions out for now”
“He’s using it as an excuse to take a vacation,” Hoodie teases, and he laughs as Masky fails to attack him again
“You son of a goddamn fucking—“
“Alright, alright, children, break it up”
You move between the two proxies, acting as a barrier to get them to stop annoying one another
Jack feels another pang of jealousy, but he manages to mostly just ignore it
You shake your head, grinning as the two men keep flicking and annoying one another over your smaller form
With a chuckle, you sigh
“Anyways, I’ll let you guys do your workout," you nod at Jack and Hoodie, “I gotta go take a shower”
Jack wants to say something as you’re leaving
He wants to apologize, wants to have the courage to just openly talk about what’s going on between the two of you
But it’s like there’s a disconnect between his brain and his mouth, and he suddenly doesn’t know how to speak
He’s going to have to stand there and watch you leave again
You’re a few feet away when you turn to face him, much to his surprise
“Oh, that’s right,” you say, and Jack’s ears perk up attentively, “we’re thinking about having a campfire in the backyard tomorrow. You in?”
“Of course,” he answers immediately
You smile, and the sight has him feeling all warm inside before he’s reminded of the cruel truth
He can’t trick himself again
Can’t trick himself into believing you’re into him the same way he’s into you
“Great, I’ll see you then!”
And with that, you walk off
He watches you leave, hearing the irregular pattern of his heart beating against his ribcage
He’s only snapped out of it by Hoodie yet again, who walks up behind him and offers a few friendly pats on the back
“Ah, young love~” he snickers
There’s a pause, and then Jack groans, smacking his hand to his face
“Is it that obvious?”
“Obvious?” Masky repeats the word, and Jack looks back at the injured proxy, who folds his thick arms over his chest, “Even an eight-year-old dead kid was able to pick up on it. You’re beyond obvious. You’re hopeless”
Jack groans again, and Hoodie’s condescending back pats do little to console him
“Relax,” Hoodie says, and Jack does not, in fact, relax, “She doesn’t have anything against you, y’know. You guys just need to work something out”
Jack tries not to groan again, just because three in a row seem like a bit much, at this point
“That’s the thing,” he starts, “I just—I can’t. I can’t talk to her. It’s like something gets in the way, or,” he shakes away the very recent memory of what he did in front of your door, “it just never works out”
“Listen, you’re making yourself panic. Just don’t overthink it; she’ll hear you out no matter how much you stumble over your words”
“Which you seem to do a lot around her,” Masky snickers, and whatever’s left of Jack’s confidence deflates just a little bit more
Hoodie shoots Masky a look, but all that does is make him laugh again
“Look man, she invited you to the campfire thing, right? Why don’t you try to talk to her before then? And if that doesn’t work, maybe try to find a way to spend time with her tomorrow morning or something”
Hoodie’s words do little to encourage him
Masky must notice, because he eventually adds, “I say there’s no point in waiting that long. You have something to tell her? Do it now—waiting around will just stress you out even more. You’re not doing yourself any favors by building it up in your head”
There’s a pause as Jack considers his insight
“…Ok. Alright. You’re right, I have to do this”
The demon nods to himself
He’ll just have to bite the proverbial bullet; things won’t get any less awkward between the both of you if he doesn’t do anything about it
And, really, what’s the point of waiting?
“There we go, that’s the attitude,” Hoodie gives him a few more pats on the back, “you got this, man”
When he reaches your room this time, it’s open
He knocks on the open door, calls out your name, but there’s no response
He tried giving you plenty of time to shower and come back, but maybe he’d been too eager and hadn’t waited long enough
The rational thing to do is leave and come back later
But, for some reason, he doesn’t
It’s like he’s pulled into your room, like he can’t stop his instincts from tugging him forwards—a puppet on the strings of his desire
The faint smell of your arousal lingers in the air
He breathes it in, and his abdomen immediately clenches in response
He’s being inappropriate again, he knows it
He shouldn’t be doing this
But fuck, you smell so fucking delicious
He swallows thickly
His thoughts are teetering between wanting to stay and knowing he should leave—especially before you walk in on him
And then his sight lands on a pair of lacy underwear that you left at the foot of your bed
He freezes
He shouldn’t
Christ, he really, really shouldn’t
But he notices the wet patch you’ve left on them, and it’s like he can’t help himself
He pockets them and walks out
There’s a sick sense of guilt clinging to him as he reaches his room
You’d almost think he’d be used to that feeling by now, after all the inappropriate things he’s done
But this feels like he’s just crossed yet another line
Either way, that guilt isn’t strong enough to get him to return the panties to your room
It’s not strong enough to stop him from pulling them out of his pockets and running his fingers over the wet spot at the center
And it’s most certainly not strong enough to stop him from balling them up to his face and inhaling deeply
As soon as he does, he’s done for
His lust overrides any remaining rational thought
Your scent drives him feral
He groans, already drunk off the thought of you
Another deep breath, and he’s practically drooling
It’s no use trying to hold himself back, he’s already a goner
Getting on his bed, he quickly undoes his pants, letting his hard-on spring free, and with his dominant hand, he strokes his erection from the very base all the way to the tip
He grunts, trying to imagine it was you wrapped up around him instead of just his hand
He presses your panties closer to his face, bunching them up, teasing the wet spot at his lips so that he can just barely taste the remnants of your arousal
Friends
Would you still hold that sentiment knowing all the filthy things he does while thinking of you?
He sighs, the sound low and gravelly from somewhere deep within his chest
God, you’re fucking perfect
Everything about you makes him insatiable—it’s like you were made for him, made to torture him with his need
He grinds his hips up into his palm, feeling his cock twitch and throb in response
He imagines you clenching around him, making all those pretty sounds he’s heard you make recently
He breathes in again, another lungful of your scent, and it’s almost too much
He squeezes the tip of his length, and your name escapes him in a husky sigh
His hips wriggle up, pushing more of his length into his hand, and he imagines you on top of him, naked, your back arching as he fills your pretty little cunt up with the entirety of his length
He chokes out another groan, feeling his hips stutter impatiently
When he inhales, more of your scent floods his senses, and that insatiable hunger coils in his stomach until all of his muscles are tensing involuntarily
He’s burning for your touch
He snaps his hips forward, aching cock twitching in his hold, releasing a few more beads of precum at his slit
His tongue traces over the lace of your panties, and when your taste fills his mouth, he groans eagerly
“F-fuck—(y/n)~”
He sounds just about as desperate as he feels
He pumps his length in and out, in and out of his clenched fist until his shaft is slick with precum
He imagines you lapping at his stiff cock, he imagines bending you over and screwing you senseless
The fantasies he’s had countless times before replay in his mind as he uses your panties to help him get off
Knowing your bare cunt was rubbing against the lace not too long ago turns him on more than any kind of porn ever could
It doesn’t even come close
He curses, groaning, his movements growing increasingly rushed and frantic
His mind and body alike are consumed by his desperation
His fingers dig into the delicate material, and if he had any more control over himself, he’d be worried about tearing them
But he’s too far gone to care, too engrossed in the way the pretty lace feels pressing against his face to care about being gentle
When he licks at the wet spot again, he can almost imagine his tongue was buried inside your walls instead
He ruts into his clenched fist, the prominent vein curling along his shaft throbbing with equal impatience
He’s a snarling, groaning mess, jerking himself off like a depraved fucking teenager
He huffs at your panties, breathing you in, letting your scent and taste and even just the thought of you overwhelm him until he snaps
He pushes his hips forwards, his cock twitching and throbbing as he finally cums
His seed dribbles down his shaft, pooling in a mess at his pelvis, but he’s too euphoric to care
He gives a few more languid thrusts into his hand, riding out the high, before eventually stilling
He’s panting, chest heaving, your lace panties still bundled up at his face for him to savor
But it’s just not enough
It’s not the real thing
He won’t be satisfied until he gets you
There’s a brief pause as he lets the endorphins wash over him
And then, as he’s staring up at the ceiling, basking in the aftermath of his high, he thinks, fuck
He really just stole your panties to get himself off
He’s a fucking perv
Swallowing thickly, he tries not to think about your reaction if you ever found out
Instead, he wipes up his mess, going through the leftover box of tissues he keeps by his bedside for times like these
He should probably return your underwear, he realizes
But by this point, you’ve probably finished your shower, and you’re probably back in your room already
He’ll have to return them before tomorrow night, just so that he won’t feel so guilty seeing you at the campfire and knowing he still has them
He sighs to himself
Why does he have to make things so complicated?
Why can’t he just control himself around you?
After obsessing over you for as long as Jack has, the demon has become somewhat familiar with your routine
He knows when you’re least likely to be in your room
Which means he knows the perfect time to sneak in without you seeing him do so
So in the early afternoon the following day, he finds himself back inside your place with relative ease
Surrounded by your things, your various trinkets, clothing and furniture, it has a certain kind of warmth blooming in his chest
Everything in your room is so distinctly you
Not only does your scent mark it as your territory, but the way you’ve set things up, the way you’ve decorated—it’s all so obviously your space
It brings a smile to his lips
He can’t help it; he’s utterly head-over-heels for you
He should just drop off your panties and leave as soon as he can to avoid getting caught
But again, it’s like he’s only pulled deeper into your room
Like he's coaxed into invading your space because he’s too love-drunk and obsessed to stop himself
He notices some of the framed pictures you have scattered around, and he finds himself looking at each and every single one
Some of them are with you and different creeps from the mansion, posing or hanging out at various events
Others have people he doesn’t recognize in them, and he realizes he doesn’t know much about your life before you joined the mansion
He hums, taking one of the framed photos to trace over the outline of your face
You’re grinning at the camera next to someone he doesn’t recognize, your arm thrown over their shoulder
Both of you look like you’re mid-laugh
Your smile’s utterly contagious
His heart swells in his chest
It’s only dampened by the reminder that you don’t feel the same
He sets the picture back down, trying to ignore the bitter sting of unrequited love
Focus, he tells himself
He has to find somewhere to leave your underwear that won’t be obvious they were ever taken in the first place
Next to your door, he spots a hamper for dirty laundry
Bingo
He peeks inside, which in hindsight, he really shouldn’t have
He should’ve just dropped the panties inside, then left without looking back
Because there, amongst various t-shirts and jeans, he sees them—those fucking shorts
The shorts you were wearing when he ate you out, when he fingered you at the kitchen table
He swallows thickly
Twice now
Twice he’s had a sexual encounter with you, and both of those times, you were wearing these shorts
The shorts that hug your ass so perfectly, that show off just the right amount of thigh
He wonders if they still carry your scent
He can only imagine they do
Tentative hands reach out to them
He feels the fabric against his fingertips, and he’s reminded of the way your skin had felt against his knuckles when he’d stroked over your leg
He can’t do it, he realizes, he can’t return your underwear
It’s all he has of you
It’s all he can use when he’s aching for you
Would taking the shorts be too far?
In a split-second decision, instead of taking your shorts, he takes another pair of panties that’d been tossed into the hamper
Just like the first pair, he stuffs these in his pockets, then quickly walks out of your room
He’ll return them, he thinks, he’ll definitely return them eventually
He’s just not ready to return them just yet
Thankfully, no one catches him leaving your room
And he’s so, so close to reaching the sanctuary of his own room when, much to his mortification, he hears you calling out to him
He freezes in his tracks, his hand just barely hovering over his doorknob
“Oh, hey Jack, I was looking for you!”
He can barely look you in the eyes as he turns to face you when you approach him, but hopefully, you don’t notice anything suspicious through the cover of his mask
“About the campfire I mentioned—“ you pause, looking at him
It’s like the underwear are burning in his pockets
“Yeah?” he asks, trying not to flinch at how the guilt so obviously seeps through his voice
“I know I said it was supposed to be tonight, but we’re pushing it to tomorrow because it’s raining”
When he doesn’t say anything, because he just doesn’t know what to say, you hesitate
“…Is that alright? Do you still think you’ll join?”
He nods
He feels like a deer in headlights
“A-alright, well… I guess I’ll see you then”
He nods again
You seem to hesitate again, like there’s more you want to tell him
But then you turn and leave
And as soon as you do, he opens the door and quickly closes it shut behind him
He was supposed to return your panties
Not steal another pair
He’s only gone and made things worse yet again
What the fuck is wrong with him?
572 notes · View notes
gowonders · 1 year ago
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i’ll bite ♥ c.bg
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notes: this is a part two of my other work, back for more!! read it hereeee!! anyways, i hope this satisfies yalls expectations for part 2 TT
also!! please tell me if this makes sense because i totally wrote this over multiple days and probably forgot a detail
minors dni with this one!!!
warnings : (not as mean this time but still kindaaa? barely mean) fem reader, (kinda sorta toxic…..) dom bg, lsf yunjin is your friend :3, a lot of texting gyu, thigh fucking(is there a word for this because…), unprotected (wrap it before u tap it omfg!!!), mentions of baby trapping but beomgyu doesn’t actually cum inside lmao, lmk if i missed anyyyyy!
choi beomgyu. the name now meant the totally cute and desperate guy you just blew off. you groan to yourself as you lay in your bed, kicking your legs a little before you sigh, a ping snapping you out of your little fit.
it was yunjin, what’s going on with her….?
yunjin: you’re gonna hate me!!!!! i’m reallllllyyyyyy sorry yn please forgive me i’ll buy you whatever you wantttt i’m sorryyyy againnn 💕
what did she do. she’s never this apologetic? you just sigh again as you leave her on read and throw your phone back on your bed, about to just stare at the ceiling as you just think about how you could just—
another notification, from an unknown number? what is going on?
?: heyyyyy is this yn
me: yeah? who’s this
?: beomgyu, yunjin gave me your number!
huh yunjin you asshole. when i catch you. when i catch you.
you sigh again, wanting to not give into responding anymore, but to be fair, you knew you’d fold eventually. you were literally just thinking about how pretty he was. so might as well bite.
me: oh cool i guess? whats up
beomgyu: look i know you know i like you, and i know i’m gonna make you mine eventually, so come overrrrr omfg. this little tough act is not cute. at least let me fuck some sense into you or something.
me: are you fucking with me.
beomgyu: i’m trying to babe
the text had your jaw slack. no way he was this forward. is he actually serious? you have rejected him four times now, and now he wants you in his sheets?? to ‘fuck some sense into you’ ???
is he crazy???
maybeeee , but you definitely are. maybe if this happens he’ll quit annoying you. but, like we’ve established, you and him both know he’ll have you next time. maybe fifth time is the charm!
me: fine whatever
beomgyu: i knew you had a thing for me, i’ll send you my address hold up
well.. he sent it. he’s definitely serious. it was the way he sent it with a little “💓” that left your stomach in a knot. oh god. are you really folding for him? yes. you’re getting dolled up, but not enough to give him the ego boost of you showing up with a full glam.. and you’re definitely wearing the skirt he complimented a few days ago.. god. what are you doinggg… you think as you drive to his house, mind going a mile a minute as you pull into the driveway, slowly walking up to the front door.
this could be the worst or best thing you’ve done all week. you’ll bite, though.
you raise a timid fist to knock weakly at the door, legs slightly trembling— why? you’re not nervous, not really eager either.. maybe a little. as beomgyu opens the door— why is he so pretty. he looks even better with more homey clothes, a crème colored t-shirt paired that has a black print, paired with some sweats. as he waves you in, you take in his house.. not as bad as you were expecting, it was pretty neat for a guy who has a very messy personality.
“so, still doing what i wanted? you cool with that?” he asks dryly, standing a somewhat far distance from you. and you just swallow in response, eyes wide in shock. no way this is actually happening. “ynie. answer me” he’s still speaking in a dry tone, and all you can do is nod with a sheepish smile. it’s almost like his words have some crazy effect on you, and maybe it’s because of the whole shock value, but you may or may not be falling for him.
“okay, finally.” he snickers as he wraps his fingers around your wrist, bringing you to his room, and whatever plans you had to reject him are gone.. for now at least. you really couldn’t turn down the way he pinned your wrists to his bed lightly, and the way he looked down at you, like he really loved you?? even after all the times you rejected him and called him some not-so-nice names, and you weren’t really nice to his friends either. so why was he so adamant on dating you?
he didn’t give you much time to think before he moved down to your ear, knowing he has that stupid (still insanely cute) smirk on his face, whispering how much he’s been wanting to do this, and that he’s glad you finally stopped being such a bitch.
and to that, you just scoff, but he cuts you off by moving down to your neck, leaving a small mark before pulling away with a chuckle. “you’re soooo easy yn. i knew you liked me.” you literally cannot talk. like he took your words or something, so you just roll your eyes.. which he rolls his eyes back at you, with his charming smile, pulling his hands off you as he stands over you. “you really okay with this?” he asks, tilting his head as his eyes just dart all over your body as he stands over you. “yeah,” you reply with the same dry tone hes speaking in, and that’s all he needs before he chuckles again, “skilled” fingers hooking under your skirt, sliding it down. “wore this for me, huh?” he teases, pulling the skirt off and letting it drop to the floor. “maybe. i don’t know.” you say, looking up at the ceiling, you can’t look at him. you’re literally about to fuck the guy you’ve rejected four times.
he just smirks at your response, fingers tracing over the waistband of your panties as he guides you to stand up, his hands on your waist, before you hear the clinking of his belt, your face is feeling warmer and warmer by the second, and this all is feeling more and more real too. and it’s not until beomgyus leg is nudging your thighs together to when it really starts to feel real. feeling his tip press slightly against your ruined panties, his full length sliding into the tight space of your thighs, a small groan leaving his lips at the feeling, his cock slightly brushing at your clit against the flimsy fabric with every thrust, small whines leaving your lips before one of his hands come up to your lips, muffling your whines. “you’d be even prettier if you stayed quiet, only letting you make sounds under one condition— you let me take you out.” he says, not stopping his relentless thrusts into your thighs, his breath slightly shaking along with yours, the friction on both of you driving you crazy.
he tilts his head at you, a straight face on as his dark eyes study you, his palm moving from your mouth to your cheek, waiting for your response. he really does wanna hear your sounds, they boost his ego so much, so he could brag to his friends about “she wanted me soooo bad. had her whining for me.”… but you just whine out loud after a particularly hard thrust, the way his length brushes against you just satisfies something.. unlike the way beomgyus need to take you out gets satisfied. “be that way, babe. i’ll make you mine soon enough. i said i’d fuck some sense into you, clearly you haven’t stopped acting like a little bitch.” he says in between groans, his palm moving back to your mouth as he covers up your pretty sounds again.
soon enough, beomgyus hips start to stutter, and his groans turn slightly high pitched as you’re clenching your thighs at him, not making his job any easier. “f-fuck, yn—“ famous last words before he’s cumming all over your thighs, staccato whines against his hand leaving your mouth as he left you on the edge, almost finishing, but beomgyu not letting you.. :(
beomgyu sits you back on his bed, not caring to wipe off his mess before he looks at you, a small hint of a smile growing on his lips. “you wanna cum, pretty girl?” you’re torn between just staying silent and practically begging him to let you finish… on one hand you’d fuel his ego, another thing to let him brag to his friends for, and on one hand, you’d keep up this little game that beomgyu seems to hate yet love so much. ..so you find a decent in-between. a shrug. which definitely gets him a little more upset… “yes or no, yn.” he says again, dark eyes burning into yours. “yeah…” you whisper, looking down at your lap that’s been ruined with beomgyus cum. “mhm. that’s what i like to hear..” his says, chuckling as he pushes your back onto the bed, pulling your panties down and letting them drop to your ankles as your legs dangle off his bed, beomgyu moving between your thighs, his tip moving against your tip, as he laughs at how wet you are. “all this for me? oh, i really thought you didn’t like me back, babe.” he says before inserting you in one swift motion, not giving you much time to adjust before he starts moving again, fingers gripping your waist so hard that you think it might bruise.. he’s pounding into you so hard already, gen though it’s only been a few minutes.. :(
“look so pretty under me, fuck..” beomgyu says as he leans his head back, kind of a shame. you can’t see his face, not like you want to admire him or anything, but his face is pretty when he’s above you, hips snapping against you roughly and quickly, swallowing hard as he only chases his own release (maybe yours too…). and you’re fairing no better, thighs trembling around his waist as your fingers grip the quilt under you, breathy whimpers spilling from your lips, which beomgyu doesn’t even bother to make you shut up this time, he really just wants to hear the pretty sounds he’s making.
beomgyu continues his work on you, his words varying of “you’re so perfect” and “i love this” in between his own groans, your sounds spurring him on more. i mean.. if he couldn’t date you (he totally could after this) he could at least have this?? and he loved it, you looked so pretty under him, squirming and whining all for his cock, it really boosted his ego.. (much like everything else you’ve done…)
“ynieee, let me make you mine foreverr, pleaseee?” beomgyu asks, hips starting to stutter against you, leaning his head back slightly. was he serious..? asking to cum inside when you clearly don’t like him back? “it would be a good way to make sure you don’t end up dating another guy, babe..” he mutters, chuckling a little before he plants a kiss on your cheek, studying your expression. he wasn’t actually going to do it.. but he likes seeing your reaction? which is just wide eyes staring into his. “nuh uh” you say, a quick laugh leaving his lips, he just stays silent as you both reach your release, a stupid smirk plastered on his face like he was planning something.
“are you close, yn?” he asks, swallowing hard as your gummy walks flutter around him, lips parted as your whines come out. “yeah—“ you start, hoping that he’ll actually let you finish this time.. “really? okay, pretty girl. don’t hold back.” he says with a smile, starting to come undone himself as you begin to reach your climax, and the sight of you just triggers his own release letting you ride yours out, then him pulling out and cumming all over your stomach. thank god.
“let’s get you cleaned up, hm, yn??” he asks, sitting next to you on his bed, a smirk on his face at your flushed cheeks and marked neck, so easy, all his~ you nod, words really too incoherent to mean anything.. “okay babe, hold on..” he says before he leaves you in his room with your own thoughts.
seriously, what just happened?? you fuck the guy you swore up and down was clingy and weird?? you probably just fulfilled his dream, especially with the way he looks at you. this is absolutely crazy.
you’re thoughts are cut off by beomgyu coming back with a small towel, wiping his seed off your tummy before he starts to speak quietly, in a comforting tone. “soooo.. i’m sorry about this. this is probably the worst time to ask but you know how much i lik-“ he starts, a small smile on his lips as he looks up at you. you knew what he was gonna ask. “goddddd, yes, gyu!! i will date you!!!” you say, beomgyus actions pausing as he looks back up at you with a smirk. “that’s good, because i was about to have to apologize even more for those hickeys, but thanks, babe~”
he is so unserious.
251 notes · View notes
luvanniiee · 1 year ago
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make a wish
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pairing : idolbf!chan x fem!reader
synopsis : today is your birthday , you should be happy . but your boyfriend isnt here to celebrate it with you . well not in person at least . he facetimed you and told happy birthday and asked what your wish was . you told him what you wanted , can he make it come true ?
warnings : smut mdni , fluff at the end , dom!bangchan, sub!reader , birthday sex , kitchen sex (really sex on the table) , unprotected sex (wrap it or it will fall off), breeding , slight foodplay , petnames, oral (f receiving) , daddy kink , slight voice kink , multiple rounds , lmk if i missed something ;)
a/n : yall really liked my first blog , like 38 likes within 24 hours of posting it , mom im famous lol . anyways yall enjoy this story , i was gonna do one of model! hyunjin but it was angst , and i dont really like angst . but yeah, get in tooo itttt ! i might post everyday!
wrd cnt : im not sure how to check for that so 200+
story below the cut ;)
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message after message, cashapp notification after another. people were sending you birthday wishes , friends and family sending you money to make up for their absence to your party. not that you really cared anyways, none of them were your boyfriend. you missed him dearly. he was away on tour, and it just so happened that your birthday came on the day he was set to go on stage. it saddened you , but you knew he would be home soon enough.
your phone goes off again for the hundredth time today, you werent expecting more than another message , but when you checked , it was from facetime. you looked at the caller id and immediately answered the phone. hey babygirl ! the cheery voice on the other line said . it was him, your boyfriend! hey baby! i miss you so much! you said back quickly . i know baby , ill be home soon ! also is that my shirt? he asked. you nodded and he smiled. did you get my present? he asked you.
you were confused. present? he seen your confusion and told you to look outside. you opened the door, and looked down to see a gift box. handle it carefully baby , i wouldnt want you to ruin it before you can see what it is . he spoke. you did as he said and carefully took the box inside. it was light and smelled really sweet ! what is it? you asked. open it and see babydoll ! he said excitedly. your suspense grew as you slowly unwrapped it.
as the ribbon fell off , you lifted the top. a cake! it said “happy birthday to my sweet girl <3” you smiled at the camera! now go grab the lighter and then put the candles on, then light the candles and make a wish ! chan said. you did as he said , hurry hurry i might have to go sooner than i thought. chan spoke. you hurried as fast as you could and set the candles and lit them. you closed your eyes , making a wish that he was there to enjoy the cake with you. you opened your eyes and blew the fire out. what did you wish for ? chan asked. it might be bad luck if i say it now but i really wish you were here right now. you replied.
just then chan muted himself, you were confused as to why he did it, but he unmuted and told you he had to go. you got really sad but you understood. he told you he loved you and he would see very soon. you nodded and said you loved him back and hung up the phone. you huffed out and sat back in the chair. tears were about to come out , feeling sad that he couldnt be here to enjoy this cake with you, but then you heard a knock on the door.
you wiped your face and looked through the peephole, you saw nothing so you opened the door and saw a single rose on your doorstep, it had a note under it. ‘follow the trail’ it wrote. you seen it was chans writing, so you wasted no time in following the trail.
soon enough the rose petal trail ended, leading to … your backyard? your confusion becoming more apparent until you heard the backdoor open, you turned around to see your boyfriend standing with the cake in his hands. you were happy to say the least, he put the cake down and held his arms out. you ran faster than you ever thought you could and jumped into his arms.
he squeezed you tight and swayed you left to right. your eyes were blurry because of the tears of joy. did i make your wish come true? he asked. you sniffed and replied yes! yes you did! and im so glad that you made it! it felt unreal but you didnt care. at least you were in his arms. he put you down and pulled out a blindfold for you to put on. i have a few more surprises for you! chan said handing you the blindfold.
you put them on and he led you back into the house. okay open your eyes. he said. and you took the blindfolds off and let your eyes adjust. you saw familiar faces. it was his bandmates along with their partners. you smiled and thanked all of them for coming. you sat in chans lap as he handed you more candles to put on the cake. you lit them, and everyone sang the birthday song. you blew out your candles and everyone clapped.
it was truly a beautiful night, chans friends who were also your friends were all there celebrating with you, and there were jokes being made, cake being eaten and partially thrown. it was a night to remember. then you felt chans hand place itself on your thigh, you thinking nothing of it as him just comforting you. he slowly moved his hand up and up till it reached the small space where your legs meet. his hand stayed there. but his fingers were ever so slightly touching your clit.
you let out a small noise that you covered with a cough. y/n are you feeling well? felix asked. oh yeah, i think i might have swallowed something wrong. you said dismissively. chan smirked slightly and started to move his hand so his fingers were rubbing you through your panties. you were struggling to hold in your noise. a moan almost slipped past your lips until chan spoke up. well guys thank you guys for coming! we had lots of fun, but we gotta wrap it up so we can clean up and get enough sleep for practice tomorrow. he said to his bandmates and their partners.
after everything was cleaned and everyone left. chan closed the door and looked at you. he gave you that gaze that made you feel bare. the gaze that sorta intimidated you. but you knew what he wanted. he started walking towards you slowly. you couldnt move, you didnt want to. he inched closer and closer to you. happy birthday babydoll! now let daddy give you the real present. he spoke, his voice dropped a bit which made you feel hot.
he knew you loved it when he used his deeper voice. he came to where you were which was in the chair you both sat in, and leaned down to kiss you. your lips moved on his smoothly. he licked at your bottom lip and you opened your mouth to let his tongue in. you tasted the cake flavor that was still slightly present in his mouth. you moaned at the taste.
he broke the kiss to ask you to sit on the table. you did as asked and sat on the table. he sat down and kissed your lower stomach. then trailing them but back to your lips. he kissed you passionately. you missed this feeling. you missed his soft lips on your skin. he kissed down you neck and left a few love marks then he kissed all the way down your body also leaving love marks occasionally in different areas. can i take these off? he asked you as he tugged on the lace of your panties.
you nodded and lifted your hips enough for him to pull them down and throw them somewhere across the room. he kissed you one more time before going down. he swirled his tongue around your clit softly. it made you lean into him craving for more. as he licked and kissed at you down there, your hand accidentally touched some frosting off the cake. you moved your hand quickly and you were about to lick it off. that is until he stopped you.
he grabbed your hand and licked the frosting off, making you more wet. then he went back to your clit and spread the sweetness on you. he mixed your sweetness with the sweetness of the frosting, it made him moan because of how good it tasted. that moan made you even wetter. also the way he started sucking at your clit , had you grinding against his face for more. he took his fingers and started to finger you. f..fuck daddy! you moaned loudly.
he smirked and kept doing what he loved. you. you felt yourself getting closer to cumming. you let out a couple warning moans cha…nn daddy im close….fuck im close ! your words seemingly falling on deaf ears as he kept fingering you and sucking at your clit. it was too much. cumming ! you moaned out before releasing all over his face. he moaned as he drank it all up. but he kept going.
though you protested and wanted him to stop, it felt too good. he looked up at you as he started to go faster. curling his fingers into you and circling his tongue on your clit. it made you feel dizzy , but it was so good. you soon felt your orgasm coming again. i..i…fuck…m’cummi…. was all you said as you released again. this time he slowed down because he saw you shaking slightly due to the overstimulation. do you want more? or have you had enough? he asked you. he already knew you wanted more. he just wanted to hear it for himself.
m..more . you spoke out, your body still twitching from the aftershocks of the orgasms he ripped out of you. he looked at you. you know the rule baby, you have to ask properly for what you want. chan said teasingly. please … i want more …wanna cum on your cock…wanna feel you inside. you breathed out. such a good girl! ill reward you with giving you what you want. he said as he stood up and took his dick out. he spit on it, and rubbed it against your clit. you shook slightly because you were still sensitive. he looked at you and kissed you.
that was his way of distracting you from the pain that happened everytime his length stretched you. you hissed a little and he patted your head. shh baby its okay, take your time and adjust. he whispered in your ear. it didnt take you long because you were semi used to his cock. soon enough you rolled your hips to see if it felt good enough for him to move. you moaned as a sign for him to move.
he moved his hips slowly a couple times , before he pulled almost completely out then shoving it back inside. he did that a few times, causing your eyes to roll back. feel good? he asked. you were too immersed in the pleasure to comprehend what was asked. with one sharp snap of his hips, hm? he asked again. yes daddy! fuck it feels so good! you moaned loudly. he smiled to himself and started to pick up his pace.
he placed both of your legs together and put both of them over one of his shoulders. that helped him to reach deeper inside and also to help him touch the spots that made you cry in pleasure. fuck babygirl….aw..your squeezing me in…nn fuck baby….do you li…like it when i fuck you like this? he groaned out. all you did was whimper, but he knew that you liked it.
his light moans and whimpers plus the way his hips were slapping against yours, had you reaching for heaven. you felt that familiar feeling when you know your about to cum again. you couldnt form the words to say it , but he already knew. he knew how your body would react when your about to cum. you started breathing heavily and you closed your eyes letting your head fall back. you started tightening around him uncontrollably. your legs starting to shake more, fuck ! you whispered as your orgasm hit you.
your juices started to leak out, forming a little white ring around his cock. as you came back to reality, you opened your eyes and started to pant. he always found your reaction hot. his thrusts began to feel sloppy and disorganized. his moans were becoming louder as he felt himself get closer. he kissed you to help quiet himself down. fuck princess….fuck..ah fuckfuckfuck i…i..m cumming…ah baby ! he moaned loudly as he stilled his hips.
he thrusted himself lightly into you, painting everything inside of you white. he whined everytime a string of cum would come out. he started to tremble lightly the more he buried himself inside you. soon enough though, he finished and almost collapsed on top of you. he just sat down and looked at your messy cunt. it was dripping with your mixed cum. it was a true sight to see.
he grabbed a kitchen towel and cleaned up, he threw it away and then carried you upstairs. he laid you down and tucked you in. he went back downstairs to straighten everything up once again, before going back upstairs. but just then, he heard a knock at the door. it was seungmin,
damn i was gonna come back and see if i left my charger here , but you can keep it after all that noise i heard. seungmin said and walked away. chan felt his face get hot. he was definitely in for a teasing when he goes to work tomorrow.
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i hope you guys enjoyed it !! see u next time !! byee
©️luvanniiee on tumblr !!
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beescomet · 1 year ago
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V E L O C I T Y || PART 1
A/N: WOOP WOOP, finally part 1 is DONE, I've been writing it for so long now lmao. Anyway, I, once again, ask everyone to go and thank @crackedpumpkin for giving me the courage to write this (and also go read their fics, it's literally a masterpiece like 💖). There might be errors as I haven't proof read this yet, so if you find anything lmk please !! Enjoy!! (Also it's 2 am here, and I got a lecture in the morning, so I'm genuinely warning yall, there might be some odd mistakes)
TAGLIST: N/A
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The smoke hangs thick in the air, twisting and billowing like ghostly tendrils as it mingles with the sharp tang of burnt rubber and the pungent scent of gasoline. From the haze, You watch as the familiar wave of energy flows all around you and the people present. Gray mist, speckled with red, similar to the mist after a night of rain in your street, the red from the lights illuminating the road. You feel a smile threatening to form as you absorb this energy.
You nearly jump in surprise when a familiar voice speaks through the earpiece you're wearing—a reminder of why I'm here in the first place. "These damn kids and their cars," the voice says, frustration evident. "Can't tell a damn difference between a wrench and a screwdriver even if it slapped them on the face", You let out a breath of amusement from your nose at the complaints . You slowly turn the steering wheel, guiding the car to it's dedicated position for the race. "Behave now D, that's not why we're here. You got eyes on me?"
The atmosphere is electric, charged with anticipation and excitement, sending a shiver down your spine as you drive into the dimly lit space. Around you, the cavernous expanse is alive with activity. Sleek, customized vehicles gleam under the low lighting, their polished surfaces catching the colorful splashes of graffiti art that adorn the walls.
"You know I do, I even got the cameras set up on the track and possible escape routes."
The crowd buzzes with energy, a lively mix of spectators and racers moving in a chaotic dance. Mechanics hustle around, their tools clinking and clanking as they tinker with engines, striving for that perfect performance. Drivers, their faces set in determined expressions, huddle in small groups, discussing tactics and strategies in hushed tones. Onlookers lean against the walls, their eyes wide with anticipation, eagerly awaiting the start of the races.
You watch them all from the safety of your car, the music and shouts muffled by the glass. You recognise a few of the people around, your nerves now on edge. You start to speak, your voice lowered to a whisper, following the group with careful eyes. "They're here"
A crash sounds from the earpiece, followed by a string of curse words. "Wait really? Fuck, you really hit the nail on the head with that one. How many can you see? Ah wait never mind, I got eyes on 'em. Damn that's a lot of screens to look at-"
You tune him out, deciding to focus on the group ahead instead, counting the members. 1, 2, 3. An annoyed sigh escapes past your lip as you rest your head on the steering wheel, muttering a curse. "Three, I was counting on at least four to get enough cash.."
The sound of laughter grabs your attention, slowly lifting your head as your eyes narrow at the sound. "Well about that, you don't need to have more than one person against you in that race.."
You immediately grab your phone, looking at your bank account and checking the balance. You choke on air once you see the number, sitting up straight and nearly hitting your head on the car roof. "Daisuke what the hell did you do! This better not be Amelie's college funds or I swear-"
Another laugh, interrupts your rant, this one louder than the last, your eyes going to glare right at one of the camera's set in the location. "Relax, this isn't my kid's college fund.. it's some of my retirement money my wife and I saved up back when she was alive. It's no use to me right now, so I thought it would help."
You could feel your heart drop, the anger in your eyes quickly replaced by one of guilt. "Daisuke I ca-" You start, closing your mouth as he interrupts you once more. "Don't even try to send it back Y/N, you went through hell for Amelie and I, this is just how I'm saying thank you. Now focus, you need to kick ass and bring the winning money back home!"
A pained laugh leaves you because of his words, bringing your hand up to rub your nose as you sniff. You could feel the tears threatening to fall, but you gather yourself together before you start breaking down.
You step out of the car, reaching for the duffle bag next to you before you do, and start heading to the middle of the room.
Every sound, every sight, adds to the cacophony of excitement that fills the air, creating a palpable tension that crackles like electricity. It's a world unto itself, this underground car meet, where the rules are few and the stakes are high. You get caught up in the whirlwind of activity, feeling the pulse of adrenaline coursing through my veins. You can feel it, all of it —the energy, the anticipation—it's all here, waiting to be unleashed. Your eyes flicker to the metal bracelet on your wrist that had started beeping, a number flashing on it.
17%
A confident smile now on your face, the night is only just beginning. Oh how fun this is going to be.
⋆。 ゚ ☁︎。 ⋆。 ゚ ☾ ゚ 。 ⋆
The duffle bag hits the table with a loud thud, silencing the group of people in the area as their attention shifts to you. But you keep your eyes on one man, the gray mist around him thicker than the others around him.
Kaji.
He tilts his head to the side, his smile growing once he sets his eyes on you as he adjusts his stance, leaning on the hood of his car. His grey eyes holds your E/C ones. He tilts his head back for a moment, chuckling. "Well then, look who we have here, the Red Devil has finally graced us with her presence. Come to race against me then?"
An annoyed huff leaves you, crossing your arms over your chest as you glare at the man, raising one brow. He stares back, grinning, a golden tooth glistening under the neon lights. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of the tooth, how can you not? You were the reason he had to get it done in the first place.
"I was planning to, unless you give me the money that I'm going to win anyway, would make this whole ordeal go so much faster" You state, shrugging your shoulders as you hear some people laugh. Kaji growls, standing up and going to the table standing between you two, opening the duffle bag and peering inside. He looks back at you, the scowl quickly replaced by his infamous grin. "That's a lot of money, are you confident you'll win?"
"That damn bastad, why I outta-"
You ignore Daisuke's words, keeping your attention on Kaji as he waves two fingers to the other two goons with him, they bring in three duffle bags, placing them next to the one placed earlier. You glance at them, unfolding your arms from over your chest and reaching to the duffle bags. You open the first and quickly check the cash placed inside to make sure none were fake, repeating the same process with the other bag.
You nod, stepping back as you watch someone (who you assumed would be this race's starter) shove the duffle bags into a locked box, placing the key on a chain around their neck. You turn around and begin heading back to your car, raising both hands as you yell over the crowd who began to gather around the both of you.
"Be at the track in 10, I got more important places to be at later, and I'd hate to be late because of you"
The bracelet beeps once more. Your focus shifts to it.
32%
⋆。 ゚ ☁︎。 ⋆。 ゚ ☾ ゚ 。 ⋆
"You sure you want to do this Y/N?"
You snap out of your thoughts once you hear Daisuke's voice from your earpiece, nodding your head for a moment and letting out an affirmative hum. You could hear the sigh from the ear piece, and you can just imagine him in your head shaking his head and rubbing his temple.
"Just stay safe out there would ya? God knows none of us needs anymore loss"
A grin forms on your face, a soft laugh as you nod once more. "You got it captain" You look ahead as the cars pull up next to yours, people starting to gather around the track and the screens mounted on the wal starts to broadcast the race.
Your heart hammers against your chest, causing your breath to come out staggering. This was it, the moment you and Daisuke have been planning for the past year. You close your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before opening them again, your hands on the driving wheel as you stare right ahead.
You have to win.
Losing was not an option.
A quick glance to the metal bracelet on your wrist, checking the number.
45%
"Ready!"
The starter started counting down, the sound of engines rumbling, adding onto the excitement that filled the air. You could see the red specks in the mist growing, showing that what happens after would be utter and pure chaos. That was exactly what you needed.
"Set!"
Beside you, Kaji, revved his engine, glaring at you from his car. You roll your eyes, any other time you'd have given him the middle finger, but right now you needed to focus.
"Go!"
Kaji shot forward like a bullet, his car a sleek silhouette cutting through the darkness. The gleam of determination in his eyes was unmistakable, a silent promise of fierce competition to come. You weren't far behind, both your engines growling with power as you both jostled for the first position in the opening moments of the race.
Behind you, two other competitors fought tooth and nail for their place in the pack, their cars weaving and swerving in a frantic dance of speed and skill. The air crackled with tension as the four of you raced, Kaji at the lead, you second, and the kther twi battling it out for third.
You let out a curse, glancing at the rearview mirror as you watch the others separate from behind you. You look at the side-view mirrors, seeing them going to either side of you.
"Watch out, 3 o'clock. He's speeding up, seems like he's gonna try and crash into you."
"Gotcha"
You look to your right, and sure enough, hes speeding your way, eyes on your vehicle as he tries to have you crash into the other one on your left. His eyes meet yours, and you couldnt help the smile on your face as you move your hand, raising the middle finger to him. You see the anger in his eyes as he swerves to your direction, and you quickly hit the brakes, your car slowing down and creating space between you and him faster than he could react. You watch as he barely misses your car, a fleeting moment of eye contact before he crashes into the other car.
A laugh escapes your lips as your foot quickly went back to the gas pedal, your car revving back up to life and going to catch up with Kaji.
Two down, one to go.
"Holy FUCK-! Y/N are you okay?"
"Just perfect! Cant say the same for the other two though" You snicker, glancing at your rear-view mirror to look at the crash site, the two guys getting out of their busted cars and telling at each other. "What's the power at??" You ask, turning your attention back to the road ahead, taking a sharp right and finally Kaji's car is back into your line of sight.
"75% and counting, did you purposely make them crash to suck the energy?”
You didn't answer, so he took your silence as confirmation.
As you hurtled down the straightaway, the neon lights of the underground tunnel flashed by in a blur of color, casting strange shadows upon the sleek surfaces of the racing machines. The pounding of your heart echoed in your ears, a steady rhythm that drove you forward, pushing you to new heights of speed.
"Two laps left"
A curse leaves your lips, your eyes glancing at your bracelet as you watched the number slowly increases. The space between you and Kaji was so small, yet to you it was almost oceans apart. Your teeth grits together as you think, shaking your head after a moment.
"D, What's the nearest shortcut to the front?"
The man at the other end sighs, you can hear him move around from his desk and the sound of him pressing buttons on his keyboard. "Take a left in a minute, you'll be in the market area, after 5 minutes with the speed you're at take a right, you should be ahead of Kaji by then."
You nod, quickly turning the steering wheel as the sound of the tires skidding reaches your ears, you can imagine the confusion on Kaji's face as he watches you disappear from behind him, the thought making you laugh a bit as you continue to drive.
Daisuke was right, you found yourself driving near the marketplace, swerving left and right through trucks and wagons filled with food. You glance at the clock, 2 minutes before the turn.
⋆。 ゚ ☁︎。 ⋆。 ゚ ☾ ゚ 。 ⋆
Kaji looks at the rear-view mirror slowing down as he sees you disappear. He looks around him, trying to find any signs you were going to appear but...nothing. He started laughing, pressing harder on the gas pedal, he could feel it, the sweet taste of victory, his victory against the infamous Red Devil.
The finish line was close, it was right there. He couldn't believe it, not only did he just guarantee a win, but he had won thousands from this race alone. He started cheering, hitting the car horn as people started to circle around the finish line.
But just then, he could see something coming out of an alleyway from the corner of his eyes, causing him to swerve as he saw the familiar grey car appear from the shadows. "What the fuck! Where did she come from!?"
You grin at him, giving him a quick salute as you turn the car, you had just stolen first place from him! You laugh, your head thrown back. Kaji never thought he could despise you more than he already did, but clearly he was wrong.
You glance at your bracelet, seeing the familiar number beeping, 100%. "Let's fucking go"
You look at your hands, watching as the energy mist you had been absorbing starts to leave you, your veins glowing gray and some sparks of red. The energy transfers from your arms to your car, you close your eyes, the familiar feeling of your element around you. Pure chaos.
You open your eyes, glancing at your reflection in the mirror, and sure enough, the familiar waves of energy come out of you like waves of an ocean during a storm, feeding more power to your car as it increases in speed.
This was one of the very few perks of being able to control the element of chaos. And arguably, your only favorite.
Cracks had started to form on the ground beneath the car, but it didnt matter, the finish line was right there. And with one final burst of power from you, your car reaches almost unnatural speed, finishing the final lap in a matter of seconds.
You drift your car, shutting your eyes tight as you press on the brakes to get it to stop before hitting the forming crowd, the sound of your wheels screeching against the road before it halts. There was a moment of silence, the only thing you can hear was your heartbeat. Then loud cheers erupt from around you, people running up to your car and shouting your title.
"Holy fucking shit we actually did it. WE WON! Y/N YOURE GETTING OUT OF HERE-"
You flinch at the screaming in your ear, your hand reaching up and muting the earpiece as your eyes looks for the man holding your prize money. You step out of the car, taking deep breaths as you try to ignore the hundreds of eyes on you.
You feel a hand on your shoulder and you jump in surprise, quickly turning and seeing who it was. You visibly relax, seeing the man carrying the three duffle bags and handing it to you.
"Good race there Red, I have to ask though, why did you take that shortcut? It could have cost you the race" He asks, watching you as you throw the duffle bags into the backseat. You shrug, glancing at him from the corner of your eyes.
"I got lucky... Now, if you'll excuse me, i need to be somewhere"
You get back into your car, the crowd parting as you quickly make your way out from the underground parking. You sit in your car in silence as you make your way back to Daisuke's location, every nerve in your body on edge. This was it. You were finally going to leave.
The mechanic shop wasn't that far, so you managed to get there in time. Quickly getting your car into the garage, Daisuke runs up and closes the garage entrance after you. "Holy fuck, we did it, for a second there I thought that was it!" Daisuke yells, running up to you and opening your car door. You step out, handing him your car keys then you grab the duffle bag, setting it on the nearest workbench.
"It's not over yet, I still need to sneak past Kaji's people and reach the city." You remind him, opening the bags as you started to count the money to be able to split them. "Did you get the other car ready? I can't leave with mine. It'll stand out" You ask, glancing at him for a moment before pausing and seeing a familiar set of keys in your face. Your eyes wide and you grin, quickly snatching the keys.
"Daisuke you did not-" The words leave your mouth faster than you can think things through, looking at the otherside of the garage and seeing the car you were meant to take. "You said it would take you months to fix it up!!"
You look at the car, a 1957 Cadillac series 62 painted navy blue. You walk around it, your fingers running over the smooth surface of the car. If it was possible to marry a car, you would have done so already. You pause, realising that he was actually giving you the cat, you look back at Daisuke and you see him smile at you. You move your hand, trying to hand back the keys. "I can't accept this, the money, the car-"
He raises his hand, and you close your mouth, your brows furrowed together in annoyance. He takes a few steps towards you and places his hand on your shoulder, giving you a small smile. "Y/N, you listen to what I say and listen well.."
"I want to give these to you. You've done so much for me and my daughter already, and you still continue to do so when you didn't have to in the first place.” You turn your face away from his gaze, biting the inside of your cheek as you fight away the tears threatening to spill. “Hey, hey look at me-" He gently grabs your chin, turning your face back to him, similar to what he would do with his daughter when he has something important to tell her.
"I'm so grateful for you, Amelie as well. You've come a long way to get to where you are now. Your father would have been proud of the person you became" He states carefully, pulling you into a tight embrace. You wrap your arms around him, burying your face into his shirt as you hold him tight.
"I'll come back for you, all of you, I promise"
He laughs, wrapping his arms around you and patting your hair in a calming manner. "I know you will kid, you're too kind for your own good" he muttered, his voice wavering. You both pull away from each other, looking at each other before you give him a sad smile.
"I'm serious, I'll come back and help you leave, then we'll open up a car repairs shop together and restore beauties like this one" You push, pointing at the cadillac nearby.
Daisuke laughs dryly, shaking his head for a moment before crossing his arms. "Alright alright, I trust you, now you better get going, you need to be out of this goddamn hell hole before sunrise, chop chop!" He urges you back to your new car, opening the door for you and you get in. "I already put your bags in the trunk, Amelie left you some snacks in a lunchbox, but i'm pretty sure it's some form of clay" You laugh at the comment, shaking your head as you think of the little brown haired girl you had grown to love.
"Thank you.. for everything" You state softly, looking at him with a soft smile. Daisuke smiles back, giving you a curt nod as he steps back, opening the garage door once more.
"Don't mention it kid, now go, I'll hide the other car later tonight" You nod, backing out of the garage and into the night, the Cadillac perfectly blending into the darkness of the town.
⋆。 ゚ ☁︎。 ⋆。 ゚ ☾ ゚ 。 ⋆
A figure watches from afar, his hand going up to run over his beard. Wu watches as the young girl drives away, a heavy sigh leaving him as he turns to leave. He reaches up and runs his hands over his dragon, carefully mounting it as it soars up into the sky.
"She gets stronger everyday, I fear we may not have enough time to prepare”
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skywritingrambles · 2 months ago
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I'm so pissed about arcane that I might write a fanfic
Not even about the stuff I've been saying (on my main) actually
In the tags of a post I reblogged i was talking about how ekko should have been the face of the revolution
And also there's that audio (is it an interview? I haven't seen the original yet) of someone talking about how Ekko found Powder to "save" her from Silco and how she said she didn't want to be saved.
So I'm just thinking about like Ekko going from that to deciding he'll do all he can to make sure that what happened to Powder and her family and his family never happens to anyone else and he creates the sanctuary and becomes the face of the revolution
So like a large focus could be on how he started the sanctuary and then keep the events of season 1 largely unchanged (season 1 was pretty much perfect) and then change some events of season 2, if I get all the way to the end it will still be a tragic story but Jinx lives bc omfg her death was literally the worst thing that could have happened. (I talked about it on my main skys-archive but I mean I'll talk about it again if yall want)
I'm just very unhappy with the last two episodes of Arcane and yeah Ekko should have been the face of the revolution. He started the firelights he built a sanctuary as a young teenager. He was probably like 11 when he tried to save Powder. Jinx wasn't interested in being a symbol and really she didn't need to be.
Anyway idk lmk if you want to talk about this/make this a reality. I'd love someone to talk to about it even if I never write it
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merlions · 8 months ago
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Cabled Cat Motif
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Posted on request by @deathreceptors 😊 lmk if you need any extra explanation or tips or translations of my notation or anything!
Written to be worked flat, but can be made to work in round by just switching even numbered rows' Ks to Ps and vice versa! Aside from row 14, all even rows are just just K-ing the Ks and P-ing the Ps of your previous row anyways :)
Cable notation:
KC2B (knit cable 2 back): slip 2 sts to cable needle and hold in back, K next two sts on left needle, K sts from cable needle. Leans embossed shape outwards to the right.
KC2F: same as KC2B but hold cable needle with 2 stitches in front instead. Leans shape outwards to the left.
PC1B: slip 1 st to cab needle, hold in back, K1 from left needle, P1 from cab. Leans shape inwards to the right.
PC1F: slip 1 st to cab, hold in front, P1 from left needle, K1 from cab. Leans shape inwards to the left.
Pattern:
CO 14 or more sts. Motif is 14 sts wide (st count increases and then decreases again, which adds to 3D embossing effect, but starts and ends with 14sts) and this pattern only describes the motif w.o any border, but I always find a border of at least 2 or 3 stockinette sts, on either side of the motif P block, for contrast, looks really nice!
(RS) Row 0a (setup): stockinette 2 or 3 rows, or as many as you'd like
(WS) Row 0b (setup): K across
(RS) R1: P6, M1R, K2, M1L, P6 (16sts)
(WS) R2: K7, P4, K7
R3: P4, KC2B, KC2F, P4
R4: K4, P8, K4
R5: P2, KC2B, K4, KC2F, P2
R6: K2, P12, K2
R7: P2, M1R, K12, M1L, P2 (18sts)
R8: K2, P14, K2
R9: P2, SL1, K12, SL1, P2
R10: rep row 8
R11: rep row 9
R12: rep row 8
R13: rep row 9
R14: K2, P6, K2, P6, K2
R15: P2, K4, PC1B, P2, PC1F, K4, P2
R16: K2, P5, K4, P5, K2
R17: P2, SL1, K2, PC1B, P4, PC1F, K2, SL1, P2
R18: K2, P4, K6, P4, K2
R19: P2, SL1, K1, K2TOG, P6, SSK, K1, SL1, P2 (16 sts)
R20: K2, P3, K6, P3, K2
R21: P2, PC1F, K1, P6, K1, PC1B, P2
R22: K3, P2, K6, P2, K3
R23: P3, K2TOG, P6, SSK, P3 (14 sts)
(WS) R24: K across
(RS) R25: K across
(WS) R26: P across
Cont in stockinette or whatever you'd like! But I do find it looks best to close the shape off on top with one row of purls and then a minimum of 2 rows of knits, when looking at the RS of the piece.
There are like at least 3 different variances I tried and I liked this one, but I could also see it being a little jackal-like with the long ears, and it might be your preference to do the 2nd decrease row a row or two earlier than in this version. Another variance is switching one or two of the cables and/or decreases for the ears to the inner side of the ears to make them taper more to the center of each half of the face instead of following the outside line. I didn't like that shape as much for my project but everyone's taste is different!
I sewed on eyes but it works maybe even better with safety eyes. And sewing on the whiskers add a huge amount, really changes the shape and makes it look really good and cat-like really quickly.
Happy craftin yall! 🥰
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jovenshires · 1 year ago
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ooo are u a big horror fan???? what are ur favorite movies?
omg tysm for asking i AM a huge horror fan!!
okay so. SO. i am a huge fan of silly 70s/80s slashers. "halloween" was the first horror movie i ever saw and is still one of my faves ever!! "nightmare on elm street" is great and "slumber party massacre" is a VERY silly lil unerrated one. im just a huge sucker for the slasher genre for a variety of reasons so def those
there are some modern fan faves i do simply buy into the hype about - "hereditary," "ready or not," any jordan peele movie but esp "get out," etc. they all fuck severely! im not as into supernatural stuff (im more of a fan of when humanity is the monster) BUT most those have some elements to them that i can appreciate. m3gan was camp and also iconic btw i stand by that take
some recent faves i have watched throughout october: "trick r treat," i genuinely think thats crept up on like my fave movies of all time list its just SO good. we've watched a lot of silly ones too so like "gremlins," "tucker and dale vs. evil," "final destination," "the evil dead." like 10/10s all around i Will be watching tucker and dale again and i might even watch the rest of the final destination series. i am not committing to any other series i think (maaaaybe friday the 13th and childs play just bc i wanna see where it goes but like. the first final destination Made me wanna watch more ya know).
anyway ! i have ranked all the movies ive watched in october thus far so if yall wanna see that lmk i Love talking ab horror movies ❤️💞❤️💞❤️
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whaterverthe · 3 years ago
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girl help im in love with ceo diluc 😦
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OMG BABE WAKE UP MONO FINALLY POSTED A WORK !!
Synopsis : Diluc stutters
Pairing :CEO!Diluc x Assistant!Reader
Cw : grinding?? Diluc is the only who gets off >:( , not dialogue filled because DUH its me, BAD GRAMMAR i think
Authors note lolz : reader is gn lol, but i didnt proof read so if reader ISNT or if theres any indication lmk pretty pls? , anyways here is yalls meal, i really hope its enough for rn. ( NOT PROOF READ IM GONNA DIE BUT I WROTE THIS AT 3 AM )
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Diluc stutters when he gets nervous : or more specifically when he wanted something. A trait he had picked up when he was younger.
Big bad CEO Diluc. His stare was intimidating, and his overall aura screamed “ professional”. Owning a Major corporation was no joke and the way he presented himself proved he took the job seriously.
But even then, he was so nervous around you. He might stumble on his words or mispronounce something, turning the same shade as his hair when you correct him.
Your aura rivaled his own in terms of professionalism and it was something that both he majorly respected and was nervous about. While you should intimidate him, he began to like you more and more, that he cant quite keep up the professional composure in front of you.
He cant tie a tie without almost choking himself and stutters when hes realized he has to ask you to help, your face is indifferent as your hands work around the tie like youve done many times before, he knows you can feel his ragged breaths as you pull the tie tighter then necessary.
He’s got a bit of a bad memory and sometimes forgets where he places personal items. He turns a shade of of Garnet red when you point out where it was, smiling a bit as he mutters curses in a language you cant understand before thanking you profusely.
He's sensitive, and stutters when asking you to touch him.
"H-here please?" hes hesitant as he guides your hand to his leaking erection, hes a bit disoriented and he can feel himself getting antsy, hes sweating and hes hot. His discarded tie is still in your hand and his shirt is unbottoned to the top.
He wines into your neck when you palm him through his tight fitting jeans, not stopping him from grinding into your hand to gain more friction. He mutters small praises of "feels good" and "Thank you"'s into your neck as he does so.
He knows hes acting less like Diluc Ragnvindr should and more like a dog but he just cant help it. And he knows you enjoy it judging by the small chuckles he hears and the way you kiss up his jaw and any place you can reach, rubbing his back with your free hand as you continue to palm him through his jeans.
He's not selfish, but he knows it wont be enough to get him off in time, and you probably wouldn't allow him to go to a meeting with a failed orgasm. But the thought of asking you for more makes him bury his head into your neck farther, whining again as you palm him particularly hard.
"Whats wrong?" Hes not sure how you noticed, you always do. Maybe because he was moving slower, or making less noise, he didnt know. But you did.
"Please" He pauses, reluctant on asking.
"Please what?, dont be afraid to ask"
Its a hard request to follow, hes afraid his voice will fail him.
He mutters some words against your shoulder as you lift his head up to meet his unfocused eyes. "What would you like Sir?"
You still insisted on calling him that, even when you were off the clock and even when he was coming undone on your lap.
He stutters on his words a couple times before he finally tells you what he wants, what he needs.
"I need, I need m-more" He tries to make eye contact and fails, face getting hotter on how lewd the sentence was in such a situation.
He inhales sharply when you unzip his jeans and take out his dick from its confines, getting straight to business.
"Like this?" you ask, you know its what he wants but judging by the glint of amusement in your eyes — you wanted to make it harder for him, despite your usual stoic appearance you always were a fan of teasing Diluc.
He moans out a form of yes before his head finds a place between your neck and shoulder, kissing your neck slightly. His body going slack in your lap as you jerk him off, helping him come undone.
He need not ask for more, for he knows despite your kindness, he shouldn't and couldn't afford to be greedy with you. You were good to Diluc, better then any one else and thats all he needed.
He grinded back into your lap, panting and letting out breathy moans and groans as you jerk him off faster, sensing his coming orgasm. Your free hand sliding up and down his back in a sense of reassurance.
He can let go, and he does.
He has trouble hiding the hickeys before the meeting, and stutters when asking if you could help him.
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send twitter links i am desperate
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honeyglz · 2 years ago
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"Catch me if you can"
A/N - Hi! So sorry for the lack of post, Ive been having a hard time finding inspo and time but I will try better !! Anyways I just had the most juicy little thought so here yall go. Also the Readers Alias is 'Dove'. If ykyk ;) Reader - No Specs Anatomy, You/Your/Yours (Reader is called pretty tho so idk ??)
Pairing - Pro Hero ! Kirishima x Rouge (Anti)Hero ! Reader
Disclaimer - I do not own any of these characters aside from my depiction of Y/N / the reader
Warnings - Tension????, Blood, Reader having rizz /hj. Pls Lmk I missed any!! Also this was not proof read at all lol
-♡-
Your feet hit the stone rooftop below, never once stopping as you ran, the famed hero Red Riot hot on your trail. Your heart raced along with you, blood dripping from your mouth as you manoeuvred through the city skyline. This wasn't the first time you had found yourself running from the familiar red head. In fact you highly doubted it would be the last. It was a like a dance you both knew you wanted wanted more then anything. Even if one of you would never admit it.
You continued running, jumping down into an alley in hopes of catching your breath. Your hand held you up against the coarse brick wall as you panted. A thud caught your attention as Kirishima's heavy boots hit the pavement in front of you, only a few steps from you. You eye'd the hero, smirk tugging at your lips as you pushed yourself off the wall. "We really have to stop meeting this way Red."
The nickname rolled off your tongue like syrup as you wiped the remaining blood from your lips, eyes never once leaving Kirishima's hardened gaze. He only as he got in a fighting stance, causing you to chuckle much to his dismay. You pulled your eyes from his as you spoke. "Y'know, usually people take me on a couple dates before we get physical." You said quite confidently as you watched the hero reddened at the insinuation. Much to your surprise he dropped his fists instead returning your own stares. Eyes shifting over your form slowly as he indulged in your shocked state. "What? You wouldn't call our little outings dates?" Now it was his turn to watch you stumble on your words, though it wasn't for long as you seemed to find your own ground to stand on. "As much as I enjoy your outfit Red-" You said gesturing to the straps across his exposed chest "- I generally don't wear heavy armoury to dates."
He smiled, flashing his famous grin at you, sharp teeth shinning despite the dark lighting.
"Oh is that so?" he asked humour rising in his tone as he leaned against the wall, arms crossing comfortably as his eyes trailed you once again. "Seems like I'm a lucky guy huh? Only one who gets to see this pretty little piece then"
"Just for you Red" you stated, twirling abit, laughing as he whistled before you turned back to him smile threatening to creep up on his face yet again. "God you make this harder then it needs to be don't you, Dove? " He sighed hand running through his thick red hair, before activating his quirk. Jagged rock like texture returning to his skin as he stepped forward. "So tell me darling, are we going to have a problem or are you going to come without issue. I might even visit you in prison if you ask nicely."
"Cmon Red" You said faking a pout as you took another step forward. "We both know theres no chance I'm goin without a fight."
He sighed though the shine in his eye said otherwise "Thought you'd say that, how about I give you a 10 second head start then"
-♡-
A/N - Sorry its short I am working on other works atm, if you want any kinda of influence on my work follow my blog for updates on my blog, I really do take comments into thought when Im working !!
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teddybeehoney · 2 years ago
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TMNT 2012 RANT!! LEORAI SHIP RANT!!
Something I've realized while reading Wattpad (especially the old TMNT x readers don't judge me ok anyways), is that people who actually IN REAL MF TIME SHIPPED (or currently ship) LEO AND KARAI! Like I'm sorry but just no. Just because she's human (at first and even after she's mutated) doesn't make it ok because they're literally siblings.
Like yeah, Karai is Splinter's blood relation whereas the turtles aren't because Leo and his brothers are adopted. HOWEVER!, they are still related in a sense. It's the principle of the matter. If your family/parent(s) adopted a person into their family as their own, YALL ARE NOW LEGALLY RELATED/SIBLINGS!
I do not care if the adoption was before the turtles were mutated. The adoption is still valid. They were adopted so Splinter then became their guardian or PARENT in a sense even before mutation. Splinter still considers and also calls the turtles HIS SONS even after mutation. In turn, they also consider Splinter their FATHER! But then again, and I can’t even believe i’m actually gonna say this-
But in Leo’s defense…
and here y’all go in comments smh. No i’m not defending his actions or feelings towards Karai. I’m simply just explaining why I feel like he shouldn’t be blamed too harshly for this whole incest ship. I’m going to go about this using logic and maybe a bit of “physiology” (don’t @ me I use that term loosely). I’m going to be mostly referencing Season 1 for this.
Leo has spent all his life in the sewers. When he meets Karai he gets feelings that he’s never felt before. It’s foreign to him. When you spend most of your life in isolation just doing the same routine over and over, with the same people, in the same place, feeling the same feelings, that part of your life is considered your norm. But when he meets Karai? A different feeling appears. She presents something thats new to him. Sure there’s April too but he considers April an ally/friend because she didn’t give him any new feelings of affection or love towards him. Friendship isn’t something new. The way Karai treats him, due to her being female also, is new to him. Especially since April never treated him like that.
If you find something new, you WILL be curious. Leo felt a feeling for Karai and was all like, “Woah! This feeling. I like it! So therefore, I wanna go after this feeling and the person who makes me feel it!” Leo became curious and wanted to experience this feeling more. If you experience in a sense, “true love”, you will try to go after it (in your own way ofc). So as a result, Leo becomes somewhat infatuated with Karai and the way she makes him feel. He might even see this “feeling” as unique. Even more unique due to Karai being a human girl.
Leo hasn’t been exposed to society and their Do’s and Dont’s. Especially the family structure kind. Now some of y’all are probably like: “But they have TV! Video games! and Donnie has the internet and computers! They should’ve known.” Sorry to say this dude, but maybe that’s not entirely the case. Look at it this way: Leo only watches Space Heroes. That show typically wouldn’t show many family structures or how incest and it’s culture is thought of. Hence, the reason why he may think it isn’t bad. Because HES NEVER BEEN EXPOSED IT. Especially not in a negative light. Also, he’s never had a female family member before. He doesn’t really know you’re not supposed to be feeling like that about your sister. But take that as you will.
Leo is kinda naive and inexperienced when it comes to love. Let’s face it, he’s been sheltered from the world most of his life just training. Anything he did learn was from TV and it was all probably very very wrong.
Splinter flopped when it came to this. He didn’t necessarily condemn it. And neither did April??That’s it. (Now idk if they did or didn’t because honestly I wouldn’t know since i haven’t watched the show in a while. Just LMK in the comments.)
But about Karai though…
I feel like she would’ve know if incest is wrong or not. She’s been exposed to more media and social norms than him and should know better. Also she kinda came onto him and exposing those feeling. Yeah she didn’t know they were related either but at some point the ship should’ve just stopped after they found out. So with being said-
Is it really their fault or is it the writers?
At the end of the day, they’re all fictional characters (sadly). At the end of the day, they’re not really in control of their actions or speech, the writers for the show are. So can we really blame them as individual characters? No. But we can blame the poorly written ship that they didn’t consider how well it would age.
So…that’s my rant. Hope you can agree on some points or even have a different opinion on some of these things I said. I don’t mind different opinion because at the end of the day, we’re our own person.
Also check out my story called: Misfortune TMNT x OC. It’s on Wattpad. I’m an amateur writer so give a read?
Stay safe! and be careful out there! The world is weird dude. 🧸💕
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crash-cinematic-universe · 4 years ago
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tiger lilies, self destructing, and richard siken
pairing: peter maximoff/reader
summary: to peter maximoff, love is an anomaly that scares him more than anything else. however, you might be able to help him overcome his fear.
warnings: language! but that’s about it. kind of cheesy at some points but yknow what im not lactose intolerant
notes: this is the monsterous fic thats been kicking my ass this past week (6.2k words babey!!!) i was originally going to add ~~steamy~~ section to this one but i decided against it to make it readable for those who don’t wanna see that kind of stuff. if you want me to separately publish that then just lmk!!  (if any of yall wanna talk about richard siken to me then please do, his work is so good)
taglist: @stranger-names ,  @gooseyhouse , @parkersdarling​ 
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1. 
To Peter Maximoff, physical affection has always been a touchy subject-- no pun intended. His speed is a blessing, but also a bitter curse. He moves at the speed of sound, bouncing off the walls and tearing up the roads; he moves impossibly fast, and no one ever tries to catch up with him. People get tired of Peter rather quickly, not bothering to get attached to him when they know they can’t keep up. 
That’s why it’s so jarringly startling when you decide to stick around. When faced with the grand decision of throwing in the towel and leaving Peter behind or sticking around and trying your best, you chose the latter. It was surprising, to say the least. Peter waited patiently for the distance between the two of you to start growing; he waited for the void you once filled to open up again. However, the void never emptied, and the distance never grew. 
To anyone else, this would be a wonderful experience. Knowing that you wouldn’t be left behind or forgotten about would be comforting to anyone else in Peter’s position. However, this did the exact opposite for Peter. He wasn’t comforted or relaxed, on the contrary, he was always on edge. The future was cruel, and the mystery of it all felt like torture. 
To quote the great Richard Silken, “Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.” Peter lived and breathed by this ideology, that everyone he loves would have to leave eventually, whether it be by their own volition or not. It was obvious that you didn’t plan on abandoning ship anytime soon, so Peter decided he’d take matters into his own hands. If you weren’t going to be the first one to walk away, then he’d be the one to run away from you. He soon came to learn that loneliness was at its most bitter when you’ve come to taste the sweetness of love. 
Love was a strange, complicated beast that Peter Maximoff had never dealt with before. If he were to be completely honest, love scared him. It scared him more than dying scared him. To Peter, death was an escape. Death was the end of a tiring journey, it was safe and simple and easy. Love was the opposite, it was the mouth of a dragon and the edge of a blade. It was the beginning to something so fragile and powerful, something that could end in flames. 
Peter realized he loved you on a summer afternoon. The sun was shining and you were in the shade. He sat down next to you, and within minutes Kurt and Ororo appeared at your side. They seemed so put together, so sure and strong. Peter felt out of place-- he felt as if he were standing outside of a cabin looking in through the window at your wonderful friendships. He watched with his nose pressed against the glass as you walked across the room and opened the cabin door to let him in. 
Peter realized he was in love with you in the middle of the night. A thunderstorm raged outside the mansion walls and raindrops kept time as Peter walked down the hallway. You were sitting on the floor of the common room next to a dying fire, a book clenched tightly in your hands. For a moment, he just stood against a wall and watched you. As creepy as he felt, a part of him believed he’d ruin your night by making himself known. He was okay with being a fly on the wall if it meant he’d get to see you. Peter wondered if there was a world where he had the pleasure of knowing you, without you having the burden of knowing him. 
Still, you saw him. And you knew him. And you waved him over with a smile. He felt the urge to run, to leave you here alone with yourself, but he stayed put. Then, one step at a time, he moved forward. He got closer and closer before he found himself standing at your feet. 
“You’re welcome to stay,” you told him. He believed it. Peter sat down next to you, letting his shoulder brush against yours.
“What’re you reading?” He asked. Peter already knew what you were reading, he read the cover of the book the moment he sat down, but he still wanted to hear it from you.
“Crush by Richard Siken,”
“Oh. What’s it about?” Peter already knew what it was about. He’d read it at least fifty times.
“It’s kind of hard to explain. I’d much rather just read it to you and let you decide for yourself,” Peter’s stupid little heart lurched, and he almost cried at the thought. He held it together, though. 
“That would be nice,” He said softly. 
“Sorry about all the writing in the margins, I can’t help myself sometimes.” Peter scanned the sides of the pages, marveling at your notes. Some of them were reactions, littered with exclamation points and question marks and bold letters. Some of them were underlined phrases and little doodles-- most notably a little drawing of a chameleon on a tiger lily. He loved them.
“It’s okay. Literature is meant to be marked up-- what’s the point of reading if you don’t get to share the love?”
“That’s a good point,” You grinned. Then, the reading began, and you allowed Peter to rest his head on your shoulder as you read to him. Even though he’d heard the poems a billion times by now, they sounded brand new coming from you. He listened closely. You were arriving at his favorite part, “You are Jeff” section 24. 
“You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you...” You read on, not noticing the way Peter’s eyes had shifted from the book you were holding to your face. Peter’s mind wanders, and he curses himself for missing the lines you were reading “... You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you didn’t even have a name for.” 
Peter felt like he was going to cry. You kept reading and he kept looking. It was getting late, and Peter was getting tired. Your voice had softened and slowed, and the fire that was burning in the fireplace had all but died. Peter was the one that fell asleep first, and you followed closely after. Both of you had lingering smiles on your faces. 
2. 
Intimacy is an odd thing, isn’t it? Thinking critically, intimacy is just vulnerability with more layers. It’s the closeness between people, it’s allowing yourself to connect with someone you care about. It’s stripping yourself down to muscle and bone and hoping the other person doesn’t let you bleed out. It’s a level of trust that is more than closing your eyes and falling backwards; it’s closing your eyes and letting them push you over the edge into the unknown, and trusting them enough to know you’ll be okay when you hit the ground.
It didn’t take long for Peter to realize that he had trouble with being intimate with other people. Too many times had trusted someone to push him over the edge, only to realize he’d be shattered when he hits the ground. After that, he decided intimacy was overrated. It’s not like anyone was going to have that kind of relationship with him, anyway. 
Of course, then you came along and uprooted his entire worldview, like you had with everything else. He found himself thinking about you at every waking moment, which inevitably led to him… thinking about you at every waking moment, if you catch my drift. Sure, intimacy involves more than just physical intimacy, but Peter knows he can’t ignore the feeling that rises in his stomach whenever he’s around you. For the first year or so of your relationship, Peter became very familiar with the feeling of an ice-cold shower. 
What Peter didn’t take into consideration was you. For some reason, Peter struggled to understand the fact that you were just as attracted to him as he was attracted to you. It was no secret that Peter was insecure, but he never really realized how much his insecurity affected his relationships. If he couldn’t love himself, how could anyone else? Peter is the only one who gets to see his persona in its truest form, and every time he has to avert his eyes. It’s safe to say his physical appearance has been the cause of very many painful-- and occasionally tear-filled-- sleepless nights. 
He told you this. He told you everything. He told you about Erik, he told you about his childhood, he told you about everything he loved and hated and feared and yearned for. That ordeal alone was scary enough, knowing that at any moment you could decide you didn’t want to deal with him anymore, but as always, you stuck around. You told him everything. You told him about your family and your struggles. You told him about everything you loved and hated and feared and yearned for, and not once did Peter even think that he wanted to walk away. This is the kind of intimacy that, over the years, Peter had struggled with less and less.
Still, it was the sexual aspect of intimacy that freaked him out. It was a beast he’d never dealt with, a feat he’d never faced. That being said, as every day went by Peter became more and more… frustrated. He didn’t know how to approach the subject, so he'd just let the subject approach him and wing it. 
And as he sat on his bed watching as you twirled around to Tears for Fears “Everybody Wants To Rule The World”, Peter realized he didn’t have much to worry about. 
“Dance with me, dollface,” you laughed, reaching out for him. You looked like someone straight out of a movie, the lim blue light coming from Peter’s arcade machines illuminating a halo above your head. You put Molly Ringwald and Emilio Estevez to shame. Peter took your hand, grinning like an idiot as you twirled him around. 
There he was, dancing in his mother’s basement with his favorite person in the entire world. He wasn’t a great dancer, and neither were you, but that didn’t matter. Peter was dreading this visit-- he hated the idea of being back in the basement that made him feel like a failure. But you assured him that you’d be there with him, and that getting to see his family would make it all worth it. His family isn’t what made it worth it, though. 
“Brain Damage” by Pink Floyd came next, slower and a bit more somber, but still danceable. Your arms shifted to around his neck, pulling him closer than he already was. Somehow, you ended up with your back against the wall as the song came to a close. He kissed your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips.
“I love you,” Peter spoke softly. This was a small victory-- he’d been so scared of the mere idea of loving someone. You were the only one who got to hear his love confessions. They were for you, and for you only.
“I love you too,” Peter would never, ever get tired of hearing that. Knowing that you love him is enough to keep him going for a hundred years. And he knows the odds, he knows that love is rocky and painful as much as it is beautiful. He knows that love can feel sweet in the beginning and go sour overtime. He knows that first, second, third relationships don’t always work out. But he thinks this is going to work out. And Peter doesn’t think this will ever go sour. Maybe that’s his blissful ignorance talking, maybe he’s jinxing it, but at this moment, he doesn’t care. Right now he is at his happiest, at his most content. 
“You wanna watch a movie?” You asked softly, pecking Peter on the cheek. He could feel the warmth radiating off of you, and Peter grinned. In an instant the tv across the room began playing the opening credits to the first movie that popped into his head. 
“The Breakfast Club?” You questioned. Peter shrugged.
“What can I say, I’m a sucker for a good coming-of-age kind of movie,”
You sat against the headboard of Peter’s bed, allowing Peter to settle beside you. Your head rested on his shoulder, and he was quick to grab your hand. Peter loved the closeness. Over the past year, he’d come to realize he was a very affectionate person. Previously, Peter hadn’t known soft, physical love; the only time anyone would ever touch him would be as punishment or defense, not love. Love. Peter had gotten more comfortable with the idea of love, because when he thinks of love he thinks of you.
3. 
Every good story has a villain. A villain that you love to hate, or hate to love. A villain you can sympathize with, a villain you can’t excuse, a villain that the mere mention of makes you sick to your stomach. An unexpected villain. An obvious villain. A villain that’s just trying his goddamn best. Sometimes the villain is defeated, sometimes the villain changes their evil ways. Sometimes the villain dies and the crowd cheers. 
Peter Maximoff never thought he’d be the villain of his own story. He tried his hardest to be a good person, but there was always that side of him that made him afraid. He was like an explosive; whenever someone got too close, he’d detonate and destroy everything around him. It was a self-defense tactic, albeit counterproductive. 
It killed you to see him that way. He told you about the relationships he’d lost to himself. He told you about the abandonment and the loneliness. It broke your heart. He tried to distract himself, drowning himself in work so he’d never have the opportunity to ruin what he had with you. Peter Maximoff was a walnut tree; every time he planted his roots and began to grow, he’d kill anything that grew too close. However, the constant working started to wear Peter down.
It started with the late nights. He’d collapse next to you at four AM, knocking out the minute his head hit the pillow. Still, he’d be awake before you were, already scrambling around trying to complete various tasks. He was like a machine that was running from it’s problems. The late nights turned to all-nighters, and the few hours Peter managed to salvage set aside for sleep had shrunk to a few minutes at a time. He didn’t eat anything with even a hint of nutritional value. At this rate, he was going to work himself to death. 
The worst part? Peter knew what he was doing. He wasn’t stupid. He just needed to shut up the little voice in his head that urged him to act out. The entirety of his childhood, Peter destroyed what he created. The need to be isolated, the feeling that he deserves to be alone spread throughout his body like a cancer. He locked himself away in the basement, trying desperately to stay out of everyone’s way so they wouldn’t shut him out. People tried to coerce him out of his cave, to pull him out of the bottomless pit he threw himself into. Peter saw them as the sirens trying to lure him into the ocean of loneliness, and he wasn’t going to fall for it. In his eyes, anyone who tried to help him were the villains of his amazing, heroic tale. Fortunately for him, one by one, they started to give up on helping him. They thought he was a lost cause; a fucking loser who was destined to wallow in his own self-pity until he died. At first, this was a triumph. He defeated them, he outwitted the sphinx and slayed the dragon. But a part of him hated himself for becoming the worst-case scenario that every parent feared their child would grow up to be. 
He pulled himself out of his pit and back onto his feet, all by himself. It was hell on Earth, but he did it. That cancerous feeling of uselessness retracted back into itself, now residing in the place next to Peter’s heart. However, that horrifying fear of becoming a burden began to grow again, this time when Peter was in his mid-20s. He began to overcompensate, and that led him to where he was; always on the brink of collapse, running on nothing but coffee and twenty minutes of sleep. In return, Peter got to have friends. In his mind, that was fair. In your mind? Not even close.
You managed to catch him in his bedroom as he was in the midst of simultaneously scribbling in a notebook and reading an open novel. Peter Maximoff would always be the most beautiful person in the world in your eyes, but at that moment, he looked like hell. Your plan seemed foolproof, but then again, you weren’t sure what you were walking into. Lately, Peter didn’t seem like himself. Probably because of the lack of sleep. 
“Peter?” He looked up at you, eyes half-lidded. “I got you something.”
“You did?” A sleepy smile was all he could muster, but that was google enough for you.  
“I did. It’s to mark exactly three years since I first met you,” you sat down on his bed, placing the small wrapped book right next to you. Peter glanced at the calendar on the wall-- oh god, you were right. It’s been three years to the day and he forgot. He deserves the title of “World’s Worst Boyfriend”. Scott will probably be upset that he’s losing his title.
 “What’re you up to?”
“Finishing up some old work I’ve been putting off,” he punctuated his sentence with a yawn. “Some of my old work and some of Hank’s, too.” “Why are you doing Hank’s work?”
“He seemed stressed about something, thought I might help clear his head,” The sentiment is sweet, you’ll give him that.
“Alright, well, can we talk for a minute?” Alarm bells went off in Peter’s brain. There has never, in the history of the universe, been a good conversation that started with ‘can we talk for a minute?’ or any of it’s cruel variants. 
“Actually, I’m kind of busy right now, can this wait?” It was obvious that the answer to that was no, but still, he felt the need to ask. 
“Not really, no. It’s important.” Peter saw the next few seconds playing out in his head. The inevitable had come to fruition; you realized that you could do better, and now you were cutting him loose. He couldn’t blame you, not really, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t going to rip him to shreds. He realized that whatever you brought for him was most likely a parting gift. How sweet.
“Oh. Alright.” 
“Well, I’m going to give it to you straight,” you sighed. “I’m worried about you, Peter.”
Oh. He’s heard this speech before, he knows the spiel. He can vaguely recall a guidance counselor telling him the exact same thing before Peter decided to call him a slew of expletives. The tar pit in his chest began to grow.
“I’m fine.” This was a lie. The first lie in a long chain of lies that Peter was about to tell to you, his favorite person in the world. He loved you, but in that moment his vision clouded over. You weren’t the person he loved and cherished anymore, no, you were just another faceless blur that provided a temporary escape. 
“Really? I feel like you’re pushing everyone away, you’re pushing me away.” Peter was becoming more and more irritated by the second.
“I told you, I’m fine. I’m not pushing you away. 
“Don’t lie to me,” your voice is firm and unwavering. “You don’t sleep, you almost never eat-- I don’t think I’ve seen you stand still for more than three minutes once in the past month--”
“That’s just how I am,” Peter huffs. He wanted this conversation to be over. “That’s not your problem.”
“Your wellbeing is my problem, Peter, that’s the whole point of being friends with someone. Even more so now, because you’re my partner and I care about you--” 
“Then stop,” Peter rolled his eyes. He's more irritable than normal-- most likely because he hasn’t slept in days. He could almost feel the venomous arms of isolation creeping around him. It’s a sick pattern, he knows; every time someone gets close to him, he feels the need to self-destruct before they lose interest. Even now, even after all this time, Peter’s still powerless against the poison in his veins. 
“What?” You’re losing your reserve and your stature. He can tell. You’re slouching and picking at the cuticles on your thumb. It’s almost as if he’s been shoved into the back seat, and is now being forced to watch as a stranger takes the wheel and crashes the car. So much frustration, so much hurt, and it’s all coming out right now, onto you. Peter already regrets this entire interaction, but still, he manages to spit acid. 
“Stop caring. Just leave, I know you want to. I know every night, you lie awake and think about all the different ways you can leave me in the dust. Not that it would matter to me.” This is another lie. Your eyes flash with hurt, but you stay put. You know he’s just being an asshole because he’s exhausted and too stubborn to admit that you’re right. He’s egging you on intentionally, trying to get you to snap and walk away. 
 “Peter, god, I love you but sometimes you can be so...”
“So what? C’mon, be honest with me,” He huffed. 
“Frustrating,” You surrendered. The poise you once held was gone. “I know it isn’t your fault-- I know you’ve trusted so many people so deeply and been betrayed or sold out and I know you’ve loved so many times and been thrown to the curb without a second thought. But I don’t know what I can do to convince you that I’m here for you, and that I love you. I’ve tried everything, and it feels like I’m talking to a brick wall. I want to make this work, but I need you to work with me.” It’s evident in your voice that you’re desperate. You’re just hoping you’ll get through to him, somehow. “I need you to want it as bad as I do-- hell, I need you to want it at all.” Here it comes--
“You ever think, maybe, I just don’t want you to be that person for me? I’ve spent my life being independent, my entire existence so far has been built around the fact that I’m going to end up alone. People come and people go-- people like you and Charles-- and they tell me they care. They tell me that they love me and that they're here for me. And then they get tired of me and they leave. I wish that you would just leave me the fuck alone and let me live in solitude,” There it was. The lie to end all lies. The words tasted awful coming out of his mouth, and the whole ordeal left his mouth tasting very… sour. Peter had to look away, he couldn’t look at the expression on your face.
“Fine. If that’s what you want.” Your eyes never met his, but you paused before you exited the room. “I know you’re probably just… I don’t know, going through something, but you’re being an asshole. Don’t talk to me until you’ve sorted your shit out. Enjoy your solitude.” You left the room impossibly fast, your fists clenched so tightly Peter feared that your nails would break the skin on your palms. He struggled to keep it together-- why the fuck did he do that? 
Peter collapsed onto his bed, and it’s only then that he realized you left behind the gift you got him. A part of him thought he should return it to you, but the other part of him urged for it to be opened. He tore the wrapping paper off before he realized what he was doing. The hardcover book the wrapping paper concealed was handbound, the cover littered with your beautifully familiar handwriting. In big, bold letters The Best of Poetry in the Humble Opinion of Y/n L/n was scrawled at the top. 
Peter vividly remembers a late night you spent talking to him. You told him about your favorite poems, outlining each and every little detail you loved about them. Some of them he’d read already, some of them he hadn’t, but all of them sounded like artwork coming from you. He opened the front cover, and you’d written something else on the inside. 
“In the words of the wonderful Peter Maximoff, ‘What’s the point of reading if you don’t get to share the love?’. This is me, sharing the love.” 
Carefully, Peter opened to a random page in the book. He saw the notes in the margins and the doodles and the exclamation points and before he knew it Peter was on the verge of tears. He was barely containing himself, and then he read a specific annotation you made. 
He had opened to the first page of “The Worm King’s Lullaby”, one of your all-time favorites. A specific line was underlined, one that Peter was all too familiar with: “Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.” Beside it, you wrote:
“As much of a genius Mr. Siken is, I have to disagree with this. If you love someone enough, you’ll never leave them and they’ll never leave you. Even if they die, even if things don’t work out, you’ll always have a little part of them to carry with you. Carry this part of me with you, Peter. Not that I plan on leaving anytime soon.” 
That was it. The floodgates broke. Everything that Peter had held back came pouring out-- the past 10 minutes finally caught up with him, and they hit him like a bus. He sat in the corner of his bedroom, his knees pulled up to his chest so tightly he thought his legs would snap. Peter wanted to rip all his hair out or punch a hole in the wall or hold his head underwater until he was nothing but an obituary and a headstone. His chest burned and the pit of despair inside his chest had overtaken his system, and he hated himself with a burning passion. Why did he do that? Why did he do that? Why the fuck did he do that?
Peter Maximoff had his breakdown in solitude, revealing in the fact that he was, undeniably, the villain of his own life.
4.
As it turns out, ‘getting his shit together’ is much harder than Peter originally anticipated. He's trying, he really is, but it's hard. Especially without you there. Peter knows that he fucked up, and he knows that he needs to work for your forgiveness. And don’t worry, he’s going to work for it. 
It had only been a week, but the entire mansion could tell that something was off. Life just wasn’t the same without the randomized gusts of wind that would knock people off their feet; no one had been seriously injured or had something stolen from them. The whirlwind that was mansion life, while still chaotic, lost it’s fun. 
Charles tried to keep things running smoothly, but he was an old man and didn’t exactly understand you and Peter. People would knock on your door every now and then, but you didn’t answer. You were much too busy analyzing exactly how much of a bitch you were being-- realistically, the answer is 0%, but you didn’t see it that way. No, from your perspective, you saw Peter having a mental breakdown and you ditched him. Pretty shitty move.
What you didn’t realize was that Peter was doing the exact same thing, however, the blame falls mostly on his shoulders, and boy does he know it. He’s been scripting his grand apology, trying desperately to find the right words to express exactly how sorry he is. Peter was never very good with words-- it’s always too hard to know if you’re going to say the wrong thing and mess everything up. Although, it’s hard to see how the scenario could get any worse.
He made the executive decision to start with “I’m sorry”-- a solid start to any apology. Sure, he could stop there, but Peter realized that he’d probably need more to win back his partner. So, he managed to scribble down a few more lines on a tiny notecard he was supposed to use for studying. Oh, what a wondrous redemption arc this would be; Peter gets into a fight with his wonderful partner and ruins their relationship and then struggles to come up with a coherent apology. 
“I’m sorry about what I said, that was shitty. I shouldn’t have said that.” Peter’s eyebrows furrowed in frustration. God, he was going to die alone, wasn’t he? Maybe this is the cruel punishment the world is dealing to him, the universe is deciding that Peter’s redemption arc would be better if it, well, didn’t exist. Even so, he isn’t planning on giving up or giving in just yet. 
He scrapped what he had so far and started at the beginning once again. His 9th grade english teacher would tell him to write about what he knows, and though he doesn’t know much, he’s an expert when it comes to himself. Peter knows how he feels about you, he knows how sorry he is, and he knows that he really, really, really wants you to know that he didn’t mean a word he said about not wanting you. Peter knows about love, at least a little bit, and he realizes he’ll need more than just words.  
His mind drifts to that night, years ago, in front of the fireplace. He vividly remembers a tiger lily and a chameleon scribbled in the margins of your book. Realistically, Peter couldn’t get his hands on a chameleon, but a tiger lily was a different story. In high school, Peter took a botany course because he thought it’d be easy. It wasn’t, it was boring as all hell, but it seems like his slacking paid off. He knew tiger lilies were indigenous to Asia, but they’d become quite common along New England-area roadways. 
Peter grabbed his jacket and took off, tearing through the roads like his life depended on it. In less than 10 minutes, Peter found himself in the middle of New Hampshire drenched in rain. In hindsight, he probably should’ve checked the weather before leaving. Nevertheless, he takes off into the small wooded area that laid passed the road’s end. Dozens of mushrooms dotted the muddy ground and mossy rocks clouded his peripheral vision. The rain begins to lighten as he spots a bright orange tiger lily peeking through the remains of a tree stump. He sprints over to it.
The tiger lily is bloomed and beautiful and Peter can’t tear his eyes away from the wide array of speckles and splotches and color. It’s pristine, but some of the petals are torn or wilting. The roots stretch into the stump below it, and Peter leans closer. The stump is old and worn, fungi and bugs eat away at the base next to a large hole where a family of worms reside. The stump is ugly, sure, but it’s useful. It helps keep the bugs fed and keeps the worms warm. There’s a metaphor here somewhere, but Peter is too distracted to find it. 
He gently picks the flower and spins on his heel, taking off once again. The rain makes it harder to run, but it’ll take a lot more than water to stop Peter. By the time Peter gets back to Xavier’s the flower is a little crushed, but it’s still somewhat pristine. 
He has the flower, he has the apology, and now all he needs is courage. Thankfully, that courage comes quickly as he instinctively knocks on your bedroom door. He probably should’ve stopped to collect himself, but he was riding a wave of adrenaline that wouldn’t come back. 
“Go away, Jean,” You called from inside. You sounded tired, and it made Peter sad. 
“It’s-- uh-- it’s not Jean,” Peter can hear your hesitant footsteps approaching the door, and suddenly the courage he managed to build up drained. His hands are shaking by the time you open the door. You look up at him, and Peter looks back at you, and suddenly everything is much harder to do. He looks down at his feet. 
“Hi.” Your voice is hoarse, but clear. 
“Hi.” Peter’s voice is uneven and quiet. You stand there in silence for a minute before Peter pipes up again.
“So, uh, you’re probably still mad at me and I get that, but I just want you to hear me out. I-If that’s okay,” You nod slowly, and Peter takes a deep breath. He thinks about the written apology that sat in his coat pocket, and he makes the last-minute decision to forget about it. He’ll speak from the heart, or, whatever people in rom-coms do. 
“I’m sorry. It was really shitty of me to get angry at you because you were worried about me-- although, I guess shitty is an understatement. Everything that I said about, yknow, not wanting you or Charles or anyone else around anymore wasn’t true. I need you guys, and I love you guys and it was unfair of me to push you away. Solitude really sucks. I guess I’m just not very good at navigating relationships,” He exhales, and his chest shudders. “I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore, I just thought I should make it clear how I feel.” It’s only then that he remembers about the tiger lily in his hand. “Oh, and this is for you.”
“A tiger lily?” you smiled softly. “These are my favorite-- how did you know?”
“I’m just observant, I guess. You usually draw them when you’re bored, I figured you’d like to see one in person,” You gently took the tiger lily in your hand. The silence that hung in the air was deafening, and Peter realized that was probably a bad sign. His chest drops just a bit, and he takes a small step backwards.
“I guess I should probably leave you alone--” Peter can’t get very far, because you immediately jump forward and wrap your arms around him. Eyes wide and heart pounding, you can feel Peter’s arms lock around your waist. 
“Thank you,” You whispered. “Please don’t go.” Peter was smiling so hard his cheeks ached, and a horrible weight had been lifted off his shoulders. The close-contact was refreshing; he didn’t realize how much he missed it until that moment. He was pretty sure he would never, ever let you go. Not again.
5.
To Peter Maximoff, physical affection has always been a touchy subject-- that is, until you came along. You proved to him that he deserved physical affection, that his mutation and his personality and weirdo quirks didn’t make him lesser or unlovable. Peter Maximoff deserved love, and you were the one who never failed to love him. 
You sat on a wooden chair in front of the fireplace, reading to the group of children sitting at your feet. The emotional lines of “Snow and Dirty Rain” fell from your lips, and with every turning syllable the small group would listen just a little bit closer. Peter did, too, desperately trying to hear every single word you said. Class was almost over, and once the students were dismissed you’d probably stop reading.
“I made this place for you. A place for you to love me. If this isn't a kingdom then I don't know what is,” Your eyes tore away from the page to look at the kids at your feet. They fell upon Peter, and a smile erupted on your face. 
Peter vaguely recalls the twisted idea of love that he held as a teenager. He thought love was a dragon to be defeated, a battle that could be won or lost. It’s clear now that love is the opposite-- it isn’t a fight or a battle or a thing to be conquered. It’s more like a flower; it needs to be cherished and cared for in order to grow. Sometimes the flower wilts and dies, and that’s natural, but sometimes the flower lasts for a lifetime. 
Love wasn’t a dragon or a knight, it didn’t have a hero or a villain; it was much more like a tiger lily and a tree stump.
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matryoshkalex · 2 years ago
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to celebrate the second half of season six and my some of my favorite scenes coming up, heres some coloring i did of the cover for ch 317!!
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this whole upcoming arc is one of my all time favorites i think and edgy dark izuku will never not be super cool to me (even if he makes me really sad) and ive seen some people do these so!! i wanted to try it and WOW i had a lot of fun :D i went through and redid the lines to make them super sharp and can i just say that i am so in love with horikoshis art. like ive said it before and ill say it over and over again but i just want to absorb his art so bad . yeah anyways i hope yall like it!! im planning to do at least a few more!! maybe of a whole scene that i might be in love with. we'll see
(more versions + transparent of the line work under the cut!!)
these versions arent all that different but !! i did wanna include this one where i had the original image overlaying everything for the extra crunchiness of the crosshatching bc i absolutely love the texture
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so the transparent line works im jus including in case someone else was possibly interested in coloring it?? feel free!! i would love to see if anyone does (also idk of the image will even be an ok enough quality,, if not just lmk and ill figure out a better way to share it lol)
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