#on one hand politically i despise him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

solbaby7 · 6 months ago

Text

Feel Me

pairing: azriel x reader

warnings: swearing, sexual descriptions, tensionnnn, cocky!az , minors DNI

summary: Fae males don’t make love like the sweet boys you knew in the human lands. Fae’s fuck.

based of the request in [ part 1 ]

—

No one else was supposed to be home.

Rhys and Feyre had left long before the morning dew could mist over the lawn. Cassian and Nesta had slipped out hours ago with their leathers on and hair neatly braided after a steaming cup of coffee.

Buttered pancakes steam on a plate, bacon sizzles on the stove and your hips sway in tandem with whatever bouncy song your humming. Strawberry stumps grow in a pile to your left, knife slicing at ripe fruit contentedly until a sneaky wisp of darkness snatches a piece for its master. “You planning on sharing?”

“Depends on how nicely you ask.”

Azriel doesn’t bite, he only raises a brow with a smirk growing at the corner of full lips. “Was it polite words that initiated Elain’s legs straddling your waist the other night?” Shock shoves the ability to form a sentence out the window and you despise the way your eyes linger on the mess of dark hair atop his head—thoughts wandering to less than respectable places when picturing other ways to muss up soft strands. “Bacon’s burning.”

A frustrated scoff pulls from your throat, a blush fanning across your cheeks and gratefulness floods your chest when you actually have something to busy your hands with to avoid Azriel’s honeyed stare. “Not that it’s any of your business,” You hiss, avoiding spattering oil while forking meat from the pan. “But, I was just helping out a friend.”

“Helping?” His morning voice was sinful; a low rasp coupled with lazy lids and a t-shirt that fit entirely too well.

“I offered sound advice.” The house cleans while you plate, stealing berry stumps as a warm rag is ran over the countertops. Hot water is poured in a mug, a tea bag string twirled around the handle. Azriel’s already next to you, twisting open the honey jar and passing it over before you can reach for it. “I demonstrated to ensure a thorough understanding—nothing more.”

“And what exactly were you demonstrating?”

“Like I said, it’s none of your business.” Syrup drowned pancakes are shoved into your mouth, favoring the possibility of choking on fluffy goodness over engaging in this conversation for a second longer.

Azriel doesn’t feel the same way, blocking off your hasty exit with his body. Was he always this tall? Giant wings hover behind him and they rustle softly when you reach out a hand to gently push him away. It was a mistake on your part—initiating physical contact because now all you could focus on was the warmth that ebbed through the soft cotton of his shirt and the hard muscles hiding beneath it. “Make it my business.”

You don’t pull away, too entranced with the smell of him. The feel of his body against your fingertips. The barely there distance that toed the line of entirely too close. “I don’t understand why you’d even care.” You mutter, snatching your hand away when you catch yourself subconsciously rubbing at the dark fabric. “I was—“ Words stammer, breath catching over the intensity of his stare and you have to will your voice to steady itself. “I was teaching her how to properly be intimate with a male.”

“I didn’t realize there was a proper way.”

“You know what I mean,” You ramble, obviously flustered when swatting away the inky fog that attempts to swipe crispy bacon from your plate. “She asked for advice and I gave a few tips to make her feel more confident—more comfortable. I was being friendly.” The pancakes have started to go cold around the edges but you can’t find it in yourself to care when Azriel keeps stalking closer, arms boxing you into the counter with ease.

“Hm,” His face is unreadable, void of any emotion but your certain his eyes go just a touch darker when you lean back, your shirt rising; broadcasting a sliver of your stomach and the pale blue panties peeking out of your sleep shorts. “And if I wanted some friendly advice—would you help me with that too?”

Breakfast is long forgotten, your eyes following the plate being pushed away by hands much bigger than your own. A shaky laugh emits, strands of your hair tickle at your cheeks and you’re painfully aware of your attire—or lack thereof judging by hardened peaks poking through delicate silk. “Az, you’re no blushing virgin. What could I possibly help you with?”

Cool shadows trace over bare legs, teasing up your calves and curling around your knees. “I can think of a few things.”

A predatory darkness coats every word, lids narrowing challengingly at you from above. There’s nowhere to run and truthfully you didn’t want to; falling into the trap of his insinuations until the smell of your arousal was becoming anything but subtle. But, then again, who fucking cared when this was exactly what you’d been craving for as long as you could remember. Filthy little fantasies about the Illyrian soldier had plagued your mind for decades. You were reduced to haughty looks and bitten lips while he sparred shirtless with Cassian, sweat gleaming against his chest and the sharp ring of swords colliding. Dirty desires that flared when you’d bump into Az late at night, his hair messy and eyes hazy—that lazy smile and those pet names that he’d let slip when he was too tired to overthink them.

Could it have been possible that Elain had been right?

That you just needed to look to find what you were yearning for.

You pray you don’t appear as desperate as you feel when your eyes scan his own; sifting through the shades of warm caramel and burnt sephia as if they’d shift into mystical beings with endless answers to your list of questions. “Such as?”

“Maybe,” The syllables are drawn out with a sing-songy lilt that has your legs shifting. “—we can start with why you thought she’d be using your tricks and charms on me?” You blame the breeze sifting through the curtains on the shiver that rakes up your spine.

The counter is cold when you lift yourself onto it, palms flat and back curving against the window pane. You shrug, breaking the eye contact and turning your head to face the flying creatures fluttering their feathery wings in the bird bath. “I hadn’t considered it’d be anyone else. You and Elain spend lots of time together and she’s obviously beautiful in that delicate, sweetheart in need of saving sort of way.”

“Careful, you almost sound jealous.”

“I am not jealous,” Well, not anymore. But, he didn’t need to know that you’d ever wasted a second of sleep on him. “It was just an observation.”

“A poor one.”

“Then I suppose it’s a good thing that I’m not going after your job.” Your arms cross over your chest, knees childishly nudging at the top of his thighs to push him away but he remains steady like a brick wall. Irritation pushes the fluttery twist of yearning out of the way the longer Azriel peers down at you with that look in his eye—that stupidly handsome smirk plastered on his annoyingly kissable lips. “Any other questions you’d like to interrogate me with?”

The vitriol in your tone only furthers the grin on his face, eating up the fluctuating emotions he pulls from you like a full course meal. “Just one more.” A breeze shifts through the open window, cutting through the strands of your hair and the smell of your conditioner permeates the space between you. “How much longer must I wait for you to pursue me before I have to take you for myself?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Beg all you’d like but not for your pardon.” It’s said so swiftly your brain barely registers the suggestive nature of it before he’s talking again. Sweeping you up in the whirlwind that was Azriel and all you could do was hold on tight for the ride. He obtains a boldness you could only dream of, hips jutting forward between your legs to keep you from slipping away; closing the distance until his wants and desires are anything but unclear when pressed so firmly against you. “How much longer?

You swallow, the movement tracked by a hunters stare as you scramble to pull together a coherent sentence. “I suppose that depends.”

“On what?”

“On if you have any almost lovers that you’re still pining after?” Shadows glide over the countertop, sneaking behind you and urging you forward. Silky sleep shorts shuffle upwards with the motion and Azriel’s wastes no time in his exploration. Warm hands rake up the length of your legs leisurely, tracing over barely there scars and memorizing moles many overlooked. “Or do you only want me because you’ve never had me?”

Tension hold thick in the air, heavy mugginess that coats your skin with an uncomfortable warmth as you and Az sized each other up—waiting to see who’d break first.

The odds didn’t seem to be swaying in your favor.

“Never had you?” Azriel repeats as if you’ve told a joke, confidence roaring in his veins from the reactions your body offers him. Goosebumps follow the tantalizing trail of his fingers up your legs, thighs subconsciously shifting wider, granting access for more of his body to touch against your own. “Every time I close my eyes, I have you.” He has to know the effect this has on you. That must be why he insists on stealing your backbone and converting it into a makeshift leash until you’re completely pliant in his grasp. “Not exactly conventional. Nowhere near comparable the real thing, I’m sure.” A wicked gleam twinkles in his eyes, his hard chest the perfect contrast against the softness of your own. “But, it’s certainly served to be good practice.”

“Azriel—“

“How much longer should I wait?”

The barely restrained need he emits makes your stomach clench. Forces your eyes to dart from his own to his mouth; lingering, lusting.

Fuck, not much longer at all. It felt like the clock was ticking and with each second that passed, your fate grew nearer and nearer.

Instinct speeds up the process, nudging you closer until the tip of your nose brushes against his own. It’s cautious—exploratory. Testing what was allowed and what wasn’t but Azriel’s patience only stretches so far and waiting for this—for you—is an impossible task.

His mouth covers yours in a claiming clash of eager lips and hands desperate to learn the shape of you.

You’re no better, nails raking through inky strands and scouring the strong slope of his shoulders like a woman starved. A relieved sigh tickles at his skin when he kisses over your cheeks, down your neck; until that spot just below your ear forces out low whines. “Az,” Your chest heaves, lungs struggling for a full breath. “Someone will see us.”

Azriel groans, lips searching for the spots that shut you up. The spots that had your spine curving and leg hooking over his waist. You lean back, anticipating the cool chill of the wall but all you meet is soft sheets and fluffy pillows as inky shadows disperse around the room. “Better?”

“Almost.” Eager fingers grip at the offending fabric hiding golden-brown skin beneath, attempting to yank it free. “Take this off.”

“You’re not this demanding in my dreams.”

“And in mine, your mouth isn’t really used for talking.”

Azriel’s efficient in adjusting to your suggestions, tearing apart soft silk as if it were nothing more than a piece of parchment in his quest of baring more of you to him. Hips buck up and nails dig into the hard-earned muscles of his back while his mouth sucked marks across your chest. Warm hands dip under the waistband of your shorts, back curving softly in anticipation as preening little moans cut through the darkness of Azriel’s bedchambers.

When he finally touches where you need him most, teeth sink harshly into the fat of your bottom lip; the feeling of his fingers dragging slow circles over the thin cotton of your underwear becoming the perfect torture. It feels too good to ponder on about the arousal soaking through your delicates or the desperate pleas for more that tumbles from your lips like sinful prayers.

Any remaining clothing falls carelessly to the floor, the hard length of him resting at the crux of your thighs. “Are you sure?”

“Don’t I feel sure?” Your brows are a little pinched when you stare up at him, a hand wedging between your bodies to guide the swollen head of his cock to your entrance.

“You feel like mine,” Az confesses hoarsely. Inch by deliciously devastating inch is pushed to the brim, hazel eyes transfixed on the snug wrap of your pussy and the warmth that follows. “Like you were fucking made to take my cock.”

He was better than you’d ever pictured, stealing your very breath away with each dragged out stroke. “Az,” His gaze is heavy, sliding up to meet your own with dark promise casting shadows against god-like features. “Please, just move.”

“Here I was trying to get you properly adjusted,” A biting grip begins at your waist, fingers digging precious prints into your hips as Azriel positions you as he pleases. Bare thighs are braced in the crease of his arms, a cocky smirk ghosting his face. “But you just wanna be fucked.” Eyes roll behind fluttering lids when the pace picks up, the position forcing you to take every inch until all you can offer is choked moans and garbled praises.

Claiming marks are placed wherever Azriel’s mouth can reach, muffled groans and deep grunts of pleasure vibrating against your skin as he carves out a space specifically made for him. You don’t last long, lips searching for his own as you clench around the length of him; toes curling and manicured nails biting at the base of his wings.

“There you go,” He croons, gently tucking stray hairs away from your face—a complete juxtaposition from the relentless way his cock fucks into you. “Taking me so well.”

Bleary eyed and boneless you are in his grasp; allowing him to act on every secret fantasy and salacious desire he'd harbored longer than he could remember until you feel the vicious twitch inside you, his hips stuttering and seed spilling.

The room reeks of sex, sheets sodden and clothes too ruined to walk out of there wearing them without looking like you belonged in a pleasure hall.

Not that it would matter—Azriel won't let you go now; hooked like an addict to their drug of choice. "You were wrong, you know." Your brow raises in silent question. "Now that I've had you, I can't see myself ever wanting anything else."

1K notes · View notes

foreverdolly · 7 months ago

Text

ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part 4 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』

summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.

warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking.

there is a mild noncon scene in this chapter. read at your own risk or skip past it.

word count: 5.2k

← previous chapter | next chapter →

In that strange place between waking and sleep- that's where you currently existed. You made a home there, wading through the waters of confusion as the events of last night came flooding back to you. At first none of it felt real. It was all a dream. . . it had to be.

But there was a foreign warmth beside you and something heavy weighing down on your chest, and while your limbs were numb with sleep you could still register that it wasn’t you. Not your arm.

Not your warmth.

So you opened your eyes and joined the land of the living once more.

The mornings on Caladan were lovely. Light filtered through your curtains regardless of the frequent overcast, the sprawling farmlands vibrant and oh so alive all around you. Your childhood home was all blue-grays and greens. The halls smelled briney- slightly citrus during the spring and summer months. The air was always humid, despite the chill; moisture clinging to your skin and clothes.

Feyd’s room was slate gray and black, slightly bigger than the one you had been sleeping in since your arrival on Giedi Prime. The air was acrid, the scent of iron so heavy in the air that it almost tasted sweet on your tongue. It was on your palate now, nearly causing you to gag when you took in a deep, steadying breath.

You had wanted to go home the second you stepped foot on the industrial planet, if only because you despised change. You wanted your family, your horses, your ocean-side view. Now, looking back at how childish your home-sick reasonings were, you couldn’t help but feel naive.

Not one, but many, had conspired against you. They had hopes that their pale prince would cut his losses and grow bored of you, but took it upon themselves to rid their hallowed halls of your presence. Anger began strumming through your veins, begging for release.

You did not let the feeling take shape. Acting on hate alone would be your undoing, you knew that. Yes, you were not as strong as some of Geidi Primes weakest warriors, but you made up for it with your. . . inherited gifts.

Your hand flew to your neck, hissing when your fingertips made contact with the tender skin. You groaned, your larynx screaming at protest. Did this mean. . .

No.

No, no, no.

You sat upright in bed, Feyd groaning as his arm was flung off of your chest due to your haste. Unable to process the reality that he had been touching you so casually, you instead focused on the fact that the noise you had just emitted sounded choppy. Garbled. Useless.

“My voice,” You started, eyes widening to the size of saucers as the words reached your ears. It was exactly as you feared. “I can’t use it.”

You could barely speak normally, let alone be able to manipulate the Voice. How long would it take your throat to heal? A few days? A week? A month? It had only taken two days for a few of the Baron’s men to plan out their attack. Who knew when they would try to strike again? You were a sitting duck and you refused to die like this.

“You won’t need it.” Feyd’s deep voice sounded beside you, the sheets rustling as his muscled body rolled over on the plush bed.

You tried in vain not to be distracted by his naked chest- by the planes of perfectly toned abs and the swell of his biceps as he stretched them above his head. It was gross to be attracted to him; disgusting, really.

Even in the light of day- if you could even call the murky gray that came in through the blinds light- the shadows seemed to pool around the bloodthirsty man. He wore them like a second skin. Had become them and learned to wield them at will.

His face was once again spotless, no blood to be found on him from last night's activities. He had been utterly soaked just a few hours ago. It had dripped down his sword arm, his nightshirt clinging to his chest and shoulders. . . and he had washed it all away down the drain like the lives he had taken meant nothing.

And it probably didn’t mean a damn thing to a man like him. Someone so used to reaping souls and shattering lives.

Your chest swelled as you turned to face him, scooting as far back on the bed as you possibly could. When you had fallen asleep he was lounging on the couch. He must have slipped into bed once you were asleep, outwardly lying about the fact that he would put distance between the two of you.

“I am not safe here.” You spat out, your broken voice still dripping with venom.

He seemed bored, as if your worries were unfounded. “I will cleave the heads off of anyone that even looks in your direction.” He said simply. Not a threat but a crimson stained promise.

Gone was the starry eyed girl who saw nothing wrong with the galaxy. Your innocence had been stripped from you the second that the man’s hands had found their way around your throat. Your body finally seemed to register pain now that you were fully awake. Your back felt like hell- a purple bruise no doubt marring your skin where it had connected with the heavy dresser. And your cheek? You brushed your fingers over that spot next. It felt hot under your touch.

“I can protect myself.” That was a lie. You could taste the horribly constructed fib on the tip of your tongue and it was bitter. Impossible to stomach.

Feyd sat up on his elbows then, looking over your face. His eyes hardened on your cheek, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth when his eyes started to dip lower. How was it possible that anyone expected you to ever grow used to his presence? His eyes on you felt like a hot brand. You attempted to flinch away from him as his hand reached out for your neck, but he touched you anyway.

“I should have savored that kill. Taken my time.” His voice was still gravely from sleep, but the anger was clear on his face.

Seeing you like this, for whatever reason, enraged him. You didn’t want to know why. . . at least you told yourself that. A man like Feyd couldn’t possibly care for anyone and you doubted that he would ever be capable of such an emotion.

“Do you truly take joy in murdering others?” You couldn’t understand him. There was no common ground between the two of you. He was a complete mystery to you.

They hadn’t even been your deaths, and yet here you were, feeling torn about all of the blood that had been shed. Feyd had killed seven men last night. Were you really worth all of that?

“I’m culling the herd,” He sat up then, his eyes sparking with a sick sense of delight that had your stomach roiling. This sounded like the ramblings of a madman.“They were weak, body and mind. Disobedient soldiers should always be purged. They were a disease, and I treated them as such.” The corner of his lip tugged up into a small smirk, as if he was reliving the moment that his blade cleaved through flesh and bone.

“You went overboard on my behalf.” They would hate you more now. Those guards no doubt had loved ones, all of whom would be gunning for you now.

“Would you rather I left them all alive? Given them a small slap on the wrist?” He was leaning in now, as if being closer to you would give him a better understanding of where you were coming from.

The sheets wrapped around your limbs, acting like restraints as you tried to back away from him and his intimidating presence. You couldn’t help but feel as though he was sizing you up, questioning whether he could swallow you up in one bite. His eyes, lidded with sleep and hazy with something you couldn’t quite discern told you that he would eat very, very slowly. Your fingers twitched at your sides, his eyes narrowing as though he could smell your fear in the air that the both of you now shared due to your close proximity.

“No,” You hated that you were agreeing with him. “They would have found another way to kill me. I just hate that you had to make such a show of it all.” I hate that I couldn’t kill them myself.

Who were you to decide if someone lived or died for their crimes? And yet. . . you were glad that they were dead. You couldn’t find it within yourself to feel sorry for them. They got exactly what they deserve, so why did you feel so awful about it?

Because the “old” you would have begged for their lives to be spared. That sweet, innocent girl would have abhorred the blood and gore, which begged the question: who did that make you now? Has this place truly changed you so intrinsically in a matter of days? You hated the idea that you were adjusting to the environment. It terrified you.

Feyd could see the anger churning behind your wide eyes, no matter how hard you tried to mask it. You were beautiful like this, so accepting of his nature. . . and yet you still fought him. Still fought this. He adored you for it. Loved you for it. There it was again- that word. He let the phrase sink into his bones, settle inside of his chest.

‘I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.

Look at what I can do for you. Let me kill again for you. Let me prove my worth. Let me have you. Let me taste you. Let me devour you until there is nothing left.’

He was so close now that the heat and smell of him was clouding your mind. Much like the smog outside, he was poisoning the air around you. The sheets tightened around your legs as you tried to kick them off of you, hellbent on escaping the bed and dressing for the day. You were starving, sore, and in desperate need of another hot bath. You still felt dirty after last night, like the stains hadn’t been completely washed away.

He was looking at you with those eyes. God, his eyes. . . they were blue, bottomless pits and you were sinking. . . drowning. You found it hard to breathe while he was looking at you like that. He was assessing you with a heated gaze that unwillingly set your insides ablaze. His hands were suddenly on the sides of your upper thighs, the insides of his wrists brushing against them. You could feel skin against skin, your thin nightdress doing nothing to shield you from his touch.

“You wanted them dead, I can tell.” And he smiled at that, a genuine one full of misplaced mirth.

“I don’t want anyone to die.” Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, so heavy that you suddenly found it hard to speak.

“I didn’t take you for a liar, little Atreides.” His head tilted to the side as he licked his lips. He was so close to you that his tongue nearly brushed against your parted lips.

And then he was pulling away, his warmth being ripped away from you far too quickly. Feyd left you on the bed as he sauntered over to his closet, unabashed of his half naked body- almost as though he was proud to show it off to you. His broad shoulders, toned back- it was well earned. It was the body of a warrior- of a killer.

You had to remind yourself that he was a murderer, tearing your eyes from him. It was almost as though you couldn’t get enough oxygen. Your lungs ached as you realized that he had practically siphoned it out of the room with his commanding presence.

He terrified you down to your very core. It was as though he was seeing your soul for what it truly was. . .

And it was as black as his own.

The Na-Baron’s hand against the small of your back felt more like a collar than anything. You couldn’t help but wonder if that was how you appeared to others now, like nothing more than a pet. It was a silent show of ownership, as were his hardened eyes as he turned his head to glare at each and every guard that passed in the hall. Their familiar uniform had your knees buckling and your hands shaking. He must have felt those tremors, for his fingers tangled themselves into the fabric of your shirt, like he could anchor you to him. ‘You’re safe with me,’ the gesture seemed to say.

The floor had been wiped clean of last night's massacre and it was almost as if it had never happened at all. You wished that you could delude yourself into believing that it hadn’t, but your aching bones were a constant reminder. An Atreides did not belong here.

The distance that you craved was not something that Feyd seemed keen on granting. When you had finished bathing earlier, your skin scrubbed raw, you had found him lounging back against the bed, eyes trained on the bathroom door. His presence was stifling, as were the halls of this strange empire. They appeared to be tightening around you, reminding you of your lack of freedom.

A canary in a gilded cage.

“I’ve been filled in on the events of last night,” The Baron said as a way of greeting when the two of you found your way into the dining room. “You had your fun it seemed, nephew.” He didn’t sound angry, which was good you supposed. Then again, he didn’t sound very approving either.

Feyd paused for a split second in the doorway, his lips pursing in confusion. You recalled him saying that the Baron always ate his meals in his own quarters. Your throat bobbed as Feyd’s hands urged you further into the room. Suddenly you were no longer hungry. Like a child, you wished that you could dig your heels in and refuse to make your way any further inside. While his nephew scared and confused you, Baron Vladimir Harkonnen was an absolute waking nightmare. From his pale, unattractive face to his plump, gluttonous build- even his eyes seemed completely void of any light. Your quivering worsened because you knew, even if Feyd wanted to keep you alive for whatever reason, that he would not disobey his beloved uncle. You would never expect that of him. If the Harkonnen wanted you dead. . . then so it shall be.

“It was very enjoyable.” Feyd said simply, sitting down in the chair directly beside you.

The Baron, at his spot at the head of the table, felt miles away. He was assessing the two of you, his gaze bouncing from your form and then to that of his nephew. It wasn’t until Feyd placed his arm over the back of your chair that he finally smiled. It looked more like a sneer than anything else, and all at once you wished to punch those teeth right out of his skull. His ill treatment of your father would never be forgotten, forced marriage or not.

“You two look. . . close.” He concluded, folding his hands in his lap as he sat back. His dark robes hugged all of the wrong places- he was greed in the flesh.

Feyd didn’t say anything, but he did lean in closer. It occurred to you that he was acting almost like a shield between you and his uncle. All at once your shaking stopped, your eyes flickering up to meet his face for the briefest of moments before you finally looked down at your plate. Again, the food did not appeal to your appetite. There were no fresh fruits or vegetables. Everything was brown, beige and white. The meals here were void of any color or variety and you found it fitting.

“We slept together last night, as it should have been from the very beginning.” Feyd said, no room for arguments. His tone was final- absolute, even in the face of the one person that he answered directly to.

Your cheeks were suddenly blazing hot as you realized how easily his statement could be misunderstood. Your lips parted, as though you could defend yourself and set the record straight, but the Baron was already nodding. He didn’t care either way. You were sent here to procreate, afterall. What the two of you did or didn’t do meant nothing to him. As the daughter of Duke Atreides you were nothing more than a pawn- a bargaining piece at best. Your blood boiled as you stabbed your fork into whatever meat had been served. It was all you could do not to brandish the small serrated blade that laid beside your plate and shove it through one of Vladimir’s overly assessing eyes.

“I just thought that she might have wanted her own space before the ceremony,” He started, gesturing towards you. It was as though you weren’t even in the room at all. “But I’ll make sure that her things are brought to your room.”

You did want your own space. Desperately. This whole situation felt wrong, and yet you were helpless. A few more days in your own room was nothing, really. Not when the two of you would be sharing a room for the remainder of your lives.

“It’s our room.” Feyd corrected, using his free hand so that he could take a sip of his drink.

His arm brushed against the back of your neck as he leaned forward ever-so-slightly so that he could place the cup back down on the table. The brush of his skin against yours sent a chill down your spine.

“Very well. Your shared room.” And the Baron seemed pleased.

The cogs started turning in your head as you stared at that expression on his face. Was that gloating that you sensed?

He looked as though he had won.

It would make no sense at all for the Baron to be so concerned with the status of your relationship, and yet there he had been, smiling as if he had bested you. Did he know something that you didn’t? It would be dangerous to voice the thoughts that you were having- unwise. Feyd was sure to take his uncle’s side on everything. At the end of the day you were little more than a warm, wet hole to breed. . . right?

Your skin crawled, your breathing growing more and more shallow as the seconds passed. What would your mother do if she was put in a situation like this? The urge to talk to her was stifling, and yet you were here alone. You had no allies here. You had been left to your own devices.

“You aren’t going to beg me to train with you today?” Feyd asked from the open door of the bathroom.

He’d left it wide open while he changed, as if he was daring you to gawk and stare. You were too busy panicking to even care that he could very well be naked mere feet away from where you sat on the bed. The Baron was guilty of something, that you knew with certainty. You bit down onto your lower lip, staring blankly ahead at the wall as you became more and more consumed by your frightening thoughts.

“What are you thinking about, little one?” His voice was right beside your ear and you jumped back, staring wide eyed at where he was kneeling before you.

He stared up at you expectantly, waiting for you to tell him what currently had you so quiet. His uncle had been unusual at breakfast, more so than Feyd was used to. The Baron was a busy man, and the last thing on his agenda was to eat with his nephew and his bride-to-be. He was cautious, and yet he didn’t want you to know. He would handle your safety from now on, even if that meant going against those that shared the very blood that pumped through his own veins.

The expression on your face had him leaning closer. You were so meek. . . so fearful. The need to protect you was overwhelming. How could someone ever want to hurt you? His eyes flickered over your bruises for the one hundredth time that afternoon, rage settling like lead in the pit of his stomach.

“I’m thinking. . .” You started, eyes becoming glassy. “That I was sent here to die.”

Feyd, for the first time in his life, felt helpless. He did not know how to calm you down. The man didn’t know the first thing about comforting someone, but the thought of leaving you to your own devices and panic had a gasp escaping his throat.

“Do you not believe me when I say that I will protect you? Have I not proved myself?” Actions spoke louder than words, or at least Feyd had always believed that, and yet you didn’t seem to understand what he was trying to say. His actions weren’t enough.

“You’re protecting me because you have to. I understand that well enough, but that doesn’t mean that something won’t happen. You are the enemy Feyd. My enemy.” You spoke with so much conviction and looked at him like you hadn’t just gutted him.

Feyd felt as though you had physically slapped him across the face. The chase was fun, but this. . . this wasn’t you acting hard to get. This was you drawing a very clear line in the sand. You didn’t like him and perhaps never would. And maybe it made Feyd even more despicable than anyone ever thought possible, but part of him did not care. You could fight it all you wanted, it did not negate the fact that you belonged to him. It did not negate the fact that he cared for you. . .

Cared so deeply that it had him questioning whether or not he had ever really known joy or a true sense of belonging before now.

“I am not them.” He rasped out, knowing that you’d understand exactly who he was implying.

He was not like the others. He never had been. He had a penchant for cruelty and a talent for killing, but he would never hurt you for sport. He knew of Harkonnen men that battered their women simply because they could, but the mere idea of putting his hands on you made him want to sink his blade into his own chest and twist. How could he ever explain that to you? Put his emotions into words when you knew so little about him? How could he tell you that he’d been dreaming of you since he was a child? Vivid, prophetic dreams that left him lonely and impatient.

“But you are.” There was a strange glint in his eyes that had your words leaving you in a breathy whisper. You were being vulnerable with him. Showing him your worst fears and letting him know that you currently had no more aces up your sleeves. The Voice was useless to you right now, and no matter how skilled you were in combat, it would mean nothing if you were up against an entire planet of people that wished you dead and silenced. You had kept the fear bottled in for three days now, and you had no one to confide in.

You would regret this, you knew it with a surety that nearly had you choking on a sob. This information could be used against you. He’d make sure that you met your end the second that you birthed him an heir. . .

So why did he look offended by your words?

His plush lips parted, blue eyes widening for a second as he fully comprehended what you had just uttered to him. Having you as his would be sweet, yes, but it paled in comparison to the idea that you would eventually care for him in the same way that he did for you. It lit a fire inside of him, and he didn’t understand how to make you see.

Feyd needed you to open your eyes and understand that he was not your enemy. He was the only person on all of Giedi Prime that was absolutely, without any question or doubt, on your side. He would burn the entire planet to ash if he had to. He’d serve his uncle’s heart on a silver platter and let you eat your fill if it meant that you would come to understand his level of utter devotion.

You blinked and suddenly you were on your back, a small grunt escaping you as his calloused palm pushed against your chest, too fast for you to even register. He was on top of you, straddling your hips. The weight of him on top of you had your teeth clenching, your traitorous body reacting in a way that sickened you. Civilizations had worshiped at the feet of long forgotten Gods that weren’t half as beautiful and cruel as Feyd-Rautha.

“You are my wife-” He started to speak, but you were quick to interrupt him, refusing to back down.

“Not yet.” You seethed.

Feyd couldn’t help but want to fight you on that, to challenge the unnecessary bite in your tone. If you were so hellbent on treating him like an enemy then so be it. He’d push you to a breaking point. He’d make you love and trust him. He’d show your true enemies such cruelty that you’d have no reason to doubt his convictions.

And before he could reign in his emotions, before he could feel any guilt, he was lurching forward. Long fingers tangled themselves into your hair as his lips pressed against yours. Unyielding, he dominated your mouth, teeth sinking into your lower lip. He needed to taste you- your mouth, your blood.

Sweat, tears, slick. He wanted all of it on his tongue.

The years spent waiting and biding his time had been worse than he realized, for the second his lips pressed against yours he found it hard to stop himself. The need that coursed through him now was more powerful than anything else he had ever experienced. You yelped against his mouth in pain, trying your hardest to flinch back at the sharp pain in your lip. The mattress and his unyielding grip on you kept you from moving even an inch. He took advantage of that small sound, his tongue lapping at the roof of your mouth lazily, the salty iron of your own blood invading your senses.

And he was everywhere. His weight was on top of you, his arms on either side of your head, his fingers buried in your hair- and you couldn’t get away. You tried bucking him off, hands grabbing at his training shirt so that you could try and pry him off of you. The muscles in your arms strained as you pulled, thighs quivering as you tried your damndest to flip him over onto the bed. You would not kiss him back.

No matter how badly your instincts were telling you to give in. That voice in the back of your head was loud, but the sound of your own pounding heart in your ears drowned it out. Your body burned as he slid his hips down slightly, changing his angle so that he could grind himself against you. The friction sent a jolt of what felt like lightning shooting up your spine. It took all of your self restraint not to moan into his mouth, which would no doubt motivate him to push this even further.

You felt him. All of him, even through all the layers of clothing that separated the two of you. He was hard, to what must have been a point of physical pain, over a mere kiss. His lips were unexpectedly soft on yours, far softer than the very few men that you had kissed in the past. They moved languidly against yours, and you wanted to be disgusted by the fact that he seemed to be enjoying himself immensely.

You hated the part of you that craved this. You could deny it all that you wanted, but the dull ache between your traitorous legs told you what your mind could not: a sick part of you wanted this. Maybe it was the very same part of you that had wanted those guards dead.

You should hate him. You wanted to hate him. You needed to hate him.

And then his hands were sliding down the back of your neck, his lips sliding down the base of your throat-

“Stop! Feyd, stop!” You finally found your voice, sucking in a breath of air. You felt dizzy, and yet your body was more alive than it ever had been.

Traitor. You were a traitor to your family.

He sat up then, eyes glazed over, his thick lashes casting shadows on the tops of his cheeks in the dim lighting.

“Do you hate me?” He panted out, voice thick with an emotion that you couldn’t quite place. It was as if he could read your mind.

“Yes.” You lied. This lie was even harder to swallow than your last for whatever reason. Maybe it was the heady look in your eyes or your swollen, well kissed lips. . . but Feyd knew you weren’t telling the truth.

“I’ll fuck you until you want me,” And his harsh, horrible words didn’t quite match the tender way he cupped your cheek. “And then you’ll want me so badly that you’ll love me.”

He got off of you then, forcing himself away from you before he made a mistake. Today was not the day to claim you, not with the previous night so fresh on your mind. He would figure out a way to apologize for his loss of control later. For now he needed a change of scenery, preferably one that didn’t have a bed. . . or a couch. . . or a table. . . or a counter-

“Pig,” You spat in his direction, quickly fumbling to straighten out your now wrinkled clothing.

“Your training clothes are in our closet. Put them on.” He was still breathing heavily, pacing around the room with his hands on his hips. His cock was straining against the confines of his pants, begging him to turn around and finish what he started- make good on the promise he just made to you.

“Are you crazy?” You screamed at him, lurching up from the bed as though you were going to attack him.

Slowly he turned to face you, his features twisting into something that looked a tad bit like forlorn yearning.

“Yes,” And he nodded, not denying the fact. “Yes I am.”

← previous chapter | next chapter →

ೃ࿔ savage bonds taglist:

@elf-punk @shitfuckeryclownverse @mydarlingelvis @heartarianagran @ohdearmaggie @chalametism @killingboredom @obsessedvibee @avidreader73 @softboo @tedcruzumakii @luminnara @narniansmagic @torchbearerkyle @ziggy-stardust-world @tian-monique @adoxra @zz-snow-zz @tiredsleepyhead @icontrolthespice @itsparksjoyhuh @verveta345 @shegatsby @zae5 @ertepla @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @lotus-888 @meetmeatyourworst @moonchild-artemisdaughter @abswifey @flower-frog @auroranodyssey @forgedfromthestars @moony-artemis @juliskopf @moonsoulk @serrendiipty @atrxidxs @the-ruler-of-death @mintoblobo @just-pure-trash @randominterwebthings @springholland @so-dramatic1 @ashy-kit @aslutforscarletwitch99 @sofia-013 @gamorxa @ricecakeslove @alexandrainlove @selfishlittlebeing @ceres27

#savage bonds fic #savage bonds #feyd rautha #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #dune part two #dune part 2 #dune #austin butler #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune x reader #dune x you #dune fanfiction #feyd rautha fic #austin butler fic #feyd rautha smut #paul atreides

2K notes · View notes

btsvt-bar · 8 months ago

Text

hurts so good

pairing ꩜ mean husband!mingyu x afab!reader

content/genre ꩜ haters to lovers, ceo/mean husband mingyu, smut (18+ mdni)

author's note ꩜ not proofread . comments are appreciated!

warnings under the cut!

warnings ꩜ smut, fingering, masturbation (m. receiving), alcohol consumption, angry sex, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, creampie, light degrading, dom-ish mingyu, dirty talk, spanking (he slaps her ass like 4 times), begging.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

You and Mingyu first met when you were kids. Coming from rich families, you went to the same private school. And to be honest, you really hated him back then.

When you were teenagers, Mingyu was really popular. He was good-looking and smart, being one of the top students of the school. All the girls had a crush on him, even if he was mean to them.

He had always been self absorbed and rude to everyone. Especially to you, and you had no clue why.

You were the quiet, nerdy type. You kept it to yourself, being too focused on your grades and on getting into a good university. Plus, you were basically the only one who didn’t think he was hot shit — but, of course, you’d never say it out loud.

Both of you got into Business School, so you never really got rid of him. His annoying personality only got worse, making you his personal laughing stock.

It worsened when your families merged companies. Coming from the food and beverage industry, and being good friends, it felt natural to merge companies and create an empire bigger than it was before. And, of course, that union had to be sealed with the marriage of the heirs.

When your parents told you, you had a nervous breakdown. They didn’t understand why, labeling you as dramatic. Of course they wouldn’t get it, Mingyu posed as polite and respectful in front of them. But you knew better.

That’s how you ended up getting married to the man you despised. Needless to say, it was the worst day of your life.

Now, three years later, you’re still trapped in a marriage that feels more like a prison. You sleep in separate rooms and on the daily basis, you and Mingyu never really talk, unless it’s a work matter.

Also, you have a terrible sex life. You can count on a hand the amount of times the two of you did it. Yes, you are physically attracted to Mingyu. He has great abs and a big dick, plus delicious big arms and a toned chest. The few times you fucked, you were both tipsy and had had a fight before going out to some company party. It was always angry sex, and you never talked about it the morning after.

With your 4th anniversary approaching, people started asking when are you going to have kids. You dreaded this moment, but it seemed like you couldn’t scape it anymore. It got you thinking about your “marriage”, about how you wished things would change and how you wished Mingyu was a good husband.

As you do your makeup for the company dinner you have tonight, you try to be mentally prepared to be questioned, once again, about your pregnancy plans.

"Hurry up, we’re going to be late" Mingyu says outside your room. You finish putting on lipstick and grab your purse.

You find him waiting on the couch, looking really handsome in his all black tuxedo. His eyes scan you head to toe. His face remains emotionless, but you notice his eyes lingering a bit too long on your wine colored lips and modest cleavage.

"Let’s go."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

The music is a bit loud, so you have to stay all the way across the room to chat properly with other people.

You are stuck talking to Mingyu’s friends’ wives. It’s not that you don’t like them, because you do, but the topic of the conversation is not something you want to discuss.

"Cheollie’s been so good to me since I told him I’m pregnant" Gwen says while smiling fondly at her husband, who's across the room. "I mean, he’s always been sweet, but now he’s so much more protective and loving…"

"Wonwoo was like that too" Claire comments. "And he’s just the perfect father. Always wanting to help me out. And he won’t admit, but he loves to prepare Yeji’s lunchbox." The other women coo, finding it adorable. But you feel your face twist into a sad expression.

You knew all of them were in an arranged marriage just like yours. How on earth you were the only one who got unlucky?

"What about you and Mingyu?" Mona, Jeonghan’s wife, asks you. "Are you planning to get pregnant soon?"

You take a sip of your gin and tonic, trying to come up with an answer. They all look at you expectantly, and you don’t have the guts to let them down.

"Oh, definitely! We’re trying" you lie. The other women cheer excitedly.

"You’re gonna have the cutest babies!" Claire says.

"Oh that’s for sure. And y/n will be the prettiest mamma ever!" Gwen gushes.

You start to feel bad about lying, so you finish your drink and walk away to grab another.

As you wait, you see Mingyu chatting and laughing with his friends. And it makes you kinda mad that he’s having fun, and you’re not. When you look back at where the other wives are, you see them caressing Gwen’s pregnant belly and you decide you’ve had enough. You walk over to Mingyu, his smile fading the second he spots you.

"What?" he asks in a harsh tone, left eyebrow raising.

"I wanna go home, I’m not feeling well" you say the first excuse that comes to mind.

"Are you for real?" Mingyu seems so annoyed. Seungcheol nudges him, letting out a quiet ‘bro’. Mingyu sighs. "Ok, whatever."

The ride home is tense. Mingyu was holding back so he wouldn’t make a scene in front of the driver, but as soon as you’re alone in your living room, he couldn’t hold his tongue anymore.

"Why do you always have to ruin the night? Honestly, Y/N, you’re so fucking annoying!" he spits out.

You roll your eyes, deciding not to take shit from him. "I was bored and wanted to come home. You could’ve stayed."

"No, I couldn’t. That would make me look bad."

Usually, you wouldn’t say what you wanted. You’d just ignore and go to your room. But today, after a few drinks, and having to hear for hours on end about how your friends’ husbands were amazing, you felt fed up with Mingyu’s bullshit.

"Maybe you should worry more about being a good husband than about faking it." you point out while taking off your heels.

"Excuse me?" his nostrils flare, signaling how angry he was.

You just shrug, not giving a fuck if he was mad. "It is what it is, Mingyu. You don’t even try to be nice to me, but you worry so damn much about how you’re perceived by others." By now, your purse was thrown on the nearest chair and you’re shouting at him. "I’m done trying to be nice, and I think we reached a point where we should get a divorce and move on. Our marriage is a sham and I’m so fucking done with you."

The man chuckles as his tongue pokes his inner cheek. He looks really annoyed. Mingyu sighs and empties his pockets, putting his stuff in a bowl on the small wooden counter.

You feel livid and his lack of response keeps your mouth running. "What’s so funny?"

"Nothing, just the fact that you think that this shitty situation is all on me." He rises his eyebrows. "Get over yourself, Y/N. None of us is willing to take the first step, that’s why our marriage is a shit show." Mingyu turns around and heads out to his room, but the next thing you say stops him dead in his tracks.

"Why aren't you willing to take the first step? What have I done that is so bad that you can't even be my friend?" A few tears escaped your eyes, but you were quick to wipe them away. "Does hurting me make you feel good or something?"

He had to give it to you. You are being really brave, questioning him and talking back.

The small bar cart catches his eyes and he decides that if you're finally having that conversation — one you should've had years ago —, he needs a drink to get through it. The room is filled with the sound of whiskey being poured. Mingyu takes a long sip, almost downing down the whole liquid, and refills his cup.

If he were to be completely honest, he would say he didn't even know why he hated you. He just did. Nowadays, he didn't mind your presence for the most part. However, when you hit his nerves, he wanted you gone. "Hating you is as natural as breathing for me. It's always been like this, why change it?"

"So we can, at least, coexist in peace? Have some fun, even? I'm not asking you to be husband of the year, but could try to be an ok one." You say with a tired tone, the whole situation already taking it's toll on you. Copying his actions, you poured some of the amber liquid for yourself. "You can get some tips from your friends. They're nice to their wives."

Mingyu snorts. "Yeah sure, if you're going to learn from your friends how to be a good wife…"

"I'm willing to try, Mingyu. But I'm not doing this on my own."

You both calmed down quickly, the heated beginning reduced to a low toned conversation. You’re impressed with how well things are going, considering the two of you usually shout and exchange offenses until someone walks away.

"We can try." His voice is quiet. Mingyu's staring at you, his eyes filled with undertones you don't comprehend yet. His moist lips are caught between his teeth. Shaking his head, he places the empty cup on the cart. "This is funny, you know."

"What?"

You can see he's conflicted between saying what's on his mind and keeping his mouth shut. "You can tell me, since we're being honest." You encourage him.

He looks you deeply in the eyes and says "We just called a truce like two minutes ago and now my mind keeps whispering that if we were a real couple, this would be the moment to kiss and make up."

Your mouth gapes in shock. The few times you had sex before, you hadn’t kissed. Mingyu would fuck you from behind, fast, hard and with a lot of pent up anger. And that was it. So you were caught off guard by his words. Seeing your expression, Mingyu quickly added: "The alcohol got to my head, pretend I never said anything."

Before he can try to leave again, you grab his bicep. "I hate to admit it, but you kind of have a point…"

Both of you start to feel this weird heat spreading under your skins. You sigh deeply. It’s weird you know precisely what’s underneath those black clothes. Mainly because you feel like you’re going to have sex him with for the first time.

"Want me to fuck you senseless until we spend all our anger and then we can start over?" He offers with a crooked smile you never saw before.

You feel slick pooling in your panties, your body already reacting to his filthy mouth. This flirty, sexy side of Mingyu is new to you, but you’re already loving it.

"Are you for real?"

Mingyu towers over you, making you step back until you reach the nearest wall. "Do I look like I'm messing around? Do I look like I won't fuck you until we both forget we hated each other in the first place?"

His serious eyes and deep voice make you sigh and bite your lower lip, fully invested in him. He reaches out and caresses your cheek before pulling you in for a kiss.

You both moan at the contact. His tongue dominates yours in a second, imposing a fast rhythm. Your core twists, tingling in a way that nearly hurts. Mingyu grunts when you close your arms around his neck and pulls gently at his hair.

The room temperature rises, leaving you both hot and bothered when you break the kiss. "Go to your room." Mingyu instructs and you comply. The walk is torturous, with shaky legs and your skimpy lacy panties sticking to your folds.

You’re shaking a little when you sit down on your bed. The night went from 0 to a 100 in minutes and you honestly don’t even want to think much about it for now.

"Can I come in?" Mingyu asks on the other side of the door, knocking lightly on the wood.

"Yeah, sure."

Mingyu took off his blazer and necktie, and the first buttons of his shirt are open, revealing his toned chest. Once again, you evaluate his beefy body proportions and purr quietly. Gosh, he’s hot!you think.

The hunky man looks around, analyzing the stuff you have in your room. You realize it’s the first time he enters it. "Do you want to keep going?"

Your eyes meet his and, for the first time ever, you see he’s actually worried about you. You limit yourself to nodding. "I’m gonna need you to say it, Y/N."

"Yes. Please get over here." You plea. Mingyu groans and crosses the room. His pants feel tight and uncomfortable, his cock pulsating with each step.

He gets on top of you, bunching your dress up on your waist. "Fuck…" he hisses when he sees your panties. You feel him caressing your clit over the lace and hold back a moan.

Mingyu moves the fabric to the side, easily sliding his fingers through your dripping cunt. "So fucking wet and I barely touched you. Do you get off on fighting with me?"

Your face grows hot, but you’re not sure if it’s because of his words or actions. He teases your hole, prodding a finger in your entrance. All air leaves your lungs. You let out a whimper, which makes Mingyu chuckle.

"So responsive." He removes his hand, his eyes searching for yours again. "If I knew you’re such a horny slut, I would’ve done this a long time ago."

"Shut up." You sass, your heart pounding in your chest. "Just shut up and actually do something."

"You better watch your fucking mouth." He manhandles you until you’re laying on your stomach. He moves you on his lap and uncovers your ass.

To your surprise, he slaps your right butt cheek. You yelp, feeling your blood pumping quickly through your body. He repeats his action, this time with more intensity.

"Cat got your tongue?" He mocks when you stay silent. Truth is, you’re clamping your lips together so you don’t moan. "You’re soaking through your panties… Is spanking one of your kinks?"

Mingyu gives you another sharp slap, but this time he massages your flash to soften the blow.

"One more." Your voice sounds croaky as you speak.

"As you wish." He complies to your request, giving you the sharpest spank so far. You whimper and Mingyu smiles, pleased with himself.

Taking advantage of your position, he slides your panties off and pulls down the zipper of your dress. With his help, you undress.

You’re laying naked on his lap and just the sight of your bare back and red ass makes the blood in Mingyu’s body flow directly to his cock. He sighs and separate your legs just enough to touch your naked pussy again.

"Mingyu please." You cry out loud, needing him to slip his fingers in your hole.

"Please what?" He plays dumb and you feel the smirk on his voice. "I don’t know what you want, you’re gonna have to say it."

You sob in frustration. "Did you really think I was going to make things easy for you?" Mingyu’s hand ghosts over your body, giving you goosebumps from the heat he irradiates. "I hate you, remember?"

This is absolute torture. Your body is boiling with desire and need, you skin nearly burning up. Mingyu traces your tights, his soft touch giving you goosebumps. "Finger me. Please, I really need it. Please please please." You beg and Mingyu chuckles again, amuzed by your desperate tone.

He parts your legs a bit as his big hands trail the path from the back of your tights to your folds. You feel one of his fingers tease your dripping hole and you clench around nothing.

You’re so wet that his two fingers slide easily into you. Your inner walls clamp down on his digits and he groans. "You’re so tight, Y/N. Can’t wait to feel you on my dick again."

Mingyu begins to finger fuck you with a lazy pace, pulling out completely just to push back in at once. Your head feels cottony, like your brain weights nothing. Out of instinct, you bite your own hand to keep your moans from falling off your lips. Your hips move with a mind of its own, pushing back to meet Mingyu’s movements. Soon enough he hits that gummy spot inside you that makes you shiver. He notices you’re close to your climax, so, out of spite, he stops his stimulation.

"Why?" you cry out, tears accumulating in your eyes. "I was so close!"

"Because it’s fun" he laughs while stroking your ass tenderly. "Be good, lay down and spread your legs for me so I can make you cum."

Your limbs feel like jelly when you scramble around to get on your back. Mingyu gets up and pushes his dress pants down along with his black boxers. His cock stand hard and proud, the red tip glossed with pre cum. You muster the strength to get on your knees and approach him, your hands grabbing his shirt to start unbuttoning it.

You work your way up his body, taking each button out of its house. When you take the last one out, your caress his big chest, feeling his strong muscles under your sweaty palms. You smooth your way up to his shoulders and push his shirt down. He’s finally naked in front of you, in all his glory.

You trail his arms and abs, all the way down to his rock hard cock. When you wrap your hands around him, Mingyu lets out a sigh of relief. You stroke him slowly while savoring his low, deep grunts in your ear. Soon enough, you quicken your pace. Meanwhile, all you can think about is his cock splitting you open and you feel yourself getting wetter.

"Tha-that’s enough." He reaches for your wrist to stop you after a couple minutes.

Surprisingly, he pulls you in for another kiss. This time, it’s a slow, passionate one. Without separating your lips, he leads you to lay down again. The new position makes Mingyu’s hips align with yours, and you start rutting each other like animals on heat.

"Seeing you between my legs is so hot." you confess when you part the kiss to breathe. "But it could be better."

"Yeah? How so?" Mingyu pokes his cheek with his tongue, his confidence unwavering.

You bite your lower lips for a second. "You’ll look hotter inside me, dear husband."

His smile falters, his eyes turning darker and darker with desire. You know you said just the right thing to spur him on.

"I’d hold onto something if I were you."

You decide to ground yourself by hugging him. Without hesitation, Mingyu pushes in in one quick, firm trust. He’s swallowed in by your warm, soft walls. You see when his eyes roll back in pleasure, and his reaction boosts your confidence through the roof. On the other hand, his big cock splitting you open twists and tightens the knot on your core even more. You know it won’t require much effort for you to cum.

"Please move" you whim and kiss his lips softly. "I need you to move."

Mingyu gives in and imposes a fast, rough pace. You sink your nails on his back, trying to keep yourself from moving too much. He slides in and out of you deliciously, reaching all the right places. You moan loudly on his ear, and he huffs and puffs on yours. The loud sounds of skin slapping, added with the wet noises coming from your wetness, teleport both of you to a world of your own. A world where the only thing that matters is Mingyu’s rough thrusts and the way your insides mold perfectly to accommodate his dick.

After what it feels like forever, Mingyu folds your legs to your chest, and the position makes him reach new places inside of you. It’s when he starts rubbing circles on your clit that you feel on the verge of frenzy. "I’m almost there." You announce.

His hips redouble efforts, and within a few seconds, and a chant of "cum for me, dear wife" your mind turns blank and your soul is lifted off of your body.

You nearly pass out, all the stimulation being too much for you. Seeing you so blissed out pushes Mingyu over the edge before he has the chance to pull out. He grunts as he covers your walls with his warm milk. Your arms fall limp on his back, and Mingyu’s strength also falters, making him drop his weight on top of you.

He rubs his nose on your neck in an affectionate gesture. You smooth your hands on his back in a retributive way. The two of you stay silent for a while, enjoying the proximity and giving yourselves time to come back down.

When Mingyu slips out of you, a stream of white floods out of your messed up hole.

"Fuck, I should’ve pulled out." Mingyu searches for your eyes, his brown orbs filled with worry. You smile softly at him.

"It’s ok, I don’t mind." You reassure him. "Just help me clean up, yeah?"

Mingyu gets up immediately and enters your en suite. He comes back a minute later with a wet cloth in hand.

"You ok?" He asks while cautiously rubbing it against your sensitive cunt.

"I’ll probably limp tomorrow, but I guess that’s the downside of fucking your hater, right?" You joke and he chuckles while shaking his head.

"Well, I guess we’re sort of friends now."

"Yes, definitely." You agree.

He discards the towel and lays back next to you. You’re under the sheets now, and your body feels completely spent. "You’re not going to sleep, are you?"

You nod, feeling your heavy lids take the best of you. "I sure am."

Mingyu gets on top of you again, and hold your chin to make you look at him. "I’ll give you 30 minutes to recover, dear wife." The stupid nickname rolls out of his tongue with an almost tender laugh.

"I thought you were fucking me until we spent all of our anger." you state, struggling to keep your eyes open. "I don’t feel angry anymore."

"I do." His eyes hold mysteries you’re yet to discover. "I’m not done hating you yet."

His low deep voice stirs your insides. You sigh, feeling your heartbeat increase again. "30 minutes and you can hate me all you want."

"Deal." He presses a kiss to your lips and goes back to the empty side of the bed.

You feel him scrambling around looking for the TV remote control. As you let your tiredness get the best of you, all you can think about is that you’re going to fight with everything that you have to make things work out between the two of you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

m.list ♡

read the sequel: down bad

#mingyu smut #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #mingyu x reader #mingyu hard hours #seventeen hard hours #seventeen scenarios #anon request #my works

1K notes · View notes

recklessmatt · 8 months ago

Text

motive - m.s ✎⋆⑅˚₊𐙚

PAIRING: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 2.1K

GENRE(S): smut hehe

SUMMARY: you invite matt over since he was assigned to tutor you but things take a twist when you’re the one doing the tutoring

WARNINGS: smut [virgin sub matt! (reader LOWKEY got a corruption kink), unprotected sex, oral (male receiving), slight overstimulation, praise kink, breeding]

“matt did you finish the page?” you ask sitting with your legs crossed on the chair at your desk. turning your head to look at the boy sitting on your bed with a book in hand, he looks up at you and shakes his head. you pout slightly and continue to turn your focus to your work in front of you. you and matt are the complete opposite, he always got excellent grades, teachers loved him, always so polite to everyone. you on the otherhand, had decent barely passing grades, teachers despised you, and you just didn’t care. the way you two were so different made you so intrigued by him. once you found out that matt was assigned to tutor you, you felt shots of anticipation and excitement spreading across your body.

you two sit in silence for a couple minutes, but then you get bored. you turn your attention to matt again and you were about to speak but you noticed how immersed he was in his book. you take the opportunity to take in all his features, how his nose scrunches slightly, his brunette locks covering his vision slightly, the frames that sit on his nose perfectly, and those pink pouty lips that you wanna kiss so bad.

“hey matt, let’s play a quick game.” you say. matt looks up shyly through his glasses and says quietly “we’re supposed to be reading our books.” oh he’s so adorable. “i knowww but we’ve been reading forever let’s take a quick break.” you say shutting your laptop.

“what are we playing?” matt asks you slightly tilting his head. “mmmm, 20 questions.” matt nods. “alright matty, first question. have you ever kissed a girl?” you ask. his eyes widen and he looks down. “i don’t wanna play anymore…” he says quietly, causing you to pout. “i won’t tell anyone, i promise matty.” you assure him. he slowly raises his head and lets out a sigh. “no i haven’t.” he murmurs so quietly you almost missed it. “are you a virgin?” you ask, he nods shyly. you suddenly clench your thighs at the thought of him being so innocent. you lift yourself off the chair you were on to move onto the bed sitting next to him.

“do you wanna learn how to kiss?” you ask lowly placing your hand on his thigh which causes matt to slightly flinch from the contact. he looks at you with those big blue eyes, not knowing what to say. he nods very slowly. you lean in barely making contact with his lips.

“i need words baby.” you whisper to him. matt lets out a shaky breath “yes please.” “just follow my lead alright?”

you close the space between you two and matt lets out a surprised yelp. you start slow, molding your lips together, moving in sync. you bit his bottom lip causing him to moan lowly in your mouth. you take the opportunity to slip your tongue in, dancing around with his tongue which makes both of you moan.

you then slowy start to move your hand up his thigh to his clothed member, giving it a slight squeeze making matt let out a higher pitched moan. you continue to your movements starting to rub him through his pants. every second that passes makes matt crave for more. you then pull your lips away.

“have you ever touched yourself baby?” you ask against his lips still palming him, matt lets out a whimper “s-sometimes.” he says shakily. “w-wait we have to study.” matt stutters out. “i know hun, we’re gonna try something okay? you’re gonna trust me on this okay?” you say. “o-okay.” you give him a quick peck on the lips.

“lay back on the bed baby.” you say slightly pushing him away. matt lays back down on the bed still holding onto his book. “i want you to read your book out loud for me baby okay?” you look at him. matt widens his eyes then shyly nods at you. “s-she turned to Mrs. Mckee and…” he reads out loud and once he started reading you crawled down enough to where your face was in line with his clothed member. you started to rub him through his pants, unbuckling his pants and slowly undoing his pants which causes matt to stop reading. “wait what are you doing?” he questions. “shhh keep reading baby don’t mind what i’m doing.” you pull his pants down just enough for you to have access to his member.

“i-it was n-nine-o-clock…” matt continues on, stuttering through his words which makes you smirk. you freed his member and it was already dripping with pre cum which causes you to salivate. he was big; thick enough to stretch you out perfectly. you hum in approval and wrap your fingers around him, looking back up at matt and you can see him struggling to keep his eyes open, stumbling over his words, heavy breathing. it turned you on so much just to see the boy in front of you crumble just from the feeling of your soft hand wrapped tightly around his member. you slowly start to pump your hand up and down his shaft which causes matt to let out a loud groan.

“mmmm, i ca-i can’t keep reading.” he stutters out, eyes closed and head thrown back. you pause your movements. “keep reading or i’m gonna stop.” you strictly say, hand loosening. “no! no, i’ll keep reading!” matt quickly picks up his book and starts to read again. “t-the little dog was…” hearing the words pass through his lips causes you to smirk at how desperate he was.

your thumb flicked against his slit as it spread the leaking precum from the tip to the base, you glance up and see matt trying his best to distract himself from the feeling of your hand pumping him up and down. you use this opportunity to flatten your tongue and lick him from his base all the way to his tip. lips wrapping around his tip, you swirl your tongue around it and this causes matt to let out a whimper. the noise he let out brings you to clench your thighs for some sort of relief.

you continue to swirl your tongue around his tip before lowering your mouth taking him deeper. whimpers continue to leave matt’s mouth as you continue to bob your head up and down. you then realize that it’s silent and all you can hear are matt’s moans and groans. you take your mouth off him and look at him. he looks so fuckable right now. hair sticking to his forehead, out of breath, bottom lip between his teeth, glasses keep slipping off due to how sweaty he is.

“what did i say?” you ask pumping him with your hand. “mmm, i-i’m sorry it f-feels too good.” he says throwing his head back. “pick up your book baby.” matt sighs and starts reading again.

you lower your mouth back onto him and suck on him like your life depended on it. you can feel matt already getting close and you continue to bob your head up and down, your hand stroking what couldn’t fit in your mouth. you feel his dick start to twitch and that makes you go even faster wanting him to finish. “oh my god i th-think im gonna come.” matt whines breathlessly using the book he has in his hand to cover his mouth as a way to quiet down his noises. as you continue to suck him off, matt lets out a loud groan and you feel a thick warm layer of cum filling your mouth.

you swallow every drop of him not leaving any mess behind. you look up at him and see matt breathless, chest heaving and eyes squinted behind his glasses. the sight of that makes you even more drenched. you crawl ontop of him tossing his book aside.

“did that feel good baby boy?” you ask running your manicured fingers along his face. he nods shyly looking down slightly embarrassed for finishing quickly. you push his hair back and lift his chin up making him look at you, those damn doe eyes. “don’t be embarrassed baby. you did so good for me.”

biting your lip, you leaned in to kiss his, feeling his plump, soft pink lips against yours. a moan escaped your mouth at the sweet taste of his tongue, fighting against yours desperately. you bite down on his bottom lip which makes matt moan in your mouth. you pull away removing your top and your bra. matt doesn’t know what to do except stare at your breasts with his hands glued to his side. you let out a low chuckle and grab his hands placing them on your tits. you take the initiative to have his hands squeeze them causing you to let out a moan and roll your hips along his hard on. matt feels his eyes almost closing once again and mind going blank.

“w-wait it hurts” matt stutters out. oh my god he’s so cute. “aww, you’re just a little overstimulated baby. i’ll make it better” you say leaning in to give him a peck. “you trust me right?” you ask. he nods. “i need words baby.” you say firmly. “i trust you.” he quietly says. you smile and give him another peck.

slightly raising yourself over his lap and lifting your skirt up, you used one of your hands to position the tip of his cock against your entrance and the other to pull your panties to the side. a soft groan escaped matt’s lips as he felt the wetness of your core against his cock. you slowly lowered yourself on him and pulling him in for a kiss to muffle his moans and groans. once you have finally bottomed out, you began moving your hips, having both of you get used to the feeling, the friction made him pull you closer, face buried in the crook of your neck while small whimpers left his lips, going straight to your core. your walls clenched around him tightly, drawing a loud groan from his chest, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

he fit inside you so perfect. he felt so good filling you up. “oh my god baby you feel so good stretching me out. fit so perfectly inside me.” you praise him running your fingers through his brunette locks. this praising causes matt to let a whimper out.

“oh you like that baby? you like being told how you’re such a good boy for me. how you fuck me so good?” you start to bounce on his cock. “uh huh” he lets out a higher pitched moan. “w-wait im gonna cum.” matt throws his head back, hands around your waist. “yeah? you wanna fill me up with your cum? you wanna cum inside my tight little pussy baby?” you hummed against his ear. this earned you a whimper falling from his lips and hands tightening against your waist. “what a naughty boy, who would’ve guessed that perfect student matthew sturniolo is such a filthy slut” you whispered in his ear moving your hips faster. “please please please im so close” he moans out. “you wanna fill me up so bad don’t you huh” you say moaning out, picking up your pace, gripping onto his shoulders. “yes yes yes” matt pleads with glassy eyes and hot tears threatening to spill from the overwhelming pleasure making him dizzy. his hands gripping your waist trying to bring you closer causing a moan to escape from your lips making him more desperate. you felt matt lift his hips to meet yours, the tip of his cock hitting your most sensitive spot as he tried to match your fast pace making you let out a loud moan “yes, you’re doing so good for me matt i’m so close.” you throw your head back feeling his cock thrust into you deeply.

you pull matt in for a heated kiss, sloppily moving your mouths and tongues together. you clench around him causing him to moan in your mouth. “please let me cum please please please.” matt begs so desperately against your lips. “cum for me baby boy.” and that’s all that took for matt to reach his high, hips stuttering, and body trembling. feeling him shoot his warm load paint your walls and hearing the sob matt let out as he came had your walls tightening and clenching around him milking him dry.

after taking a moment to breathe you raised yourself to get off of him, matt wincing from the slight oversensitivity. you lay back down on your bed right next to him, he looks at you breathlessly. you smile at him in exhaustion and give him a kiss on the cheek.

“ready to tutor me?” you ask cheekily with a smile. matt turns to you with a look causing both of you guys to laugh out loud.

gotta tag bae @luverboychris and @thesturniolos

author's note: hi i am SO sorry i lacked on writing AND i changed the title 😭 this story was lowkey kinda long IN MY OPINION at least, only bc im used to writing like 500 words tbh but i hope you guys like it. but i alr have another request in the inbox so another matt smut will be up next ;) enjoyyy, fanks for reading. <3

REQUEST:

2K notes · View notes

sanatomis · 8 months ago

Text

⋆.ೃ࿔* ── 𝐃𝐈𝐘-𝐃𝐀𝐃!

it’s career day, and megumi has to bring his dad to school so he can tell the class about his job. the problem? he only has a 20-year-old sorcerer-guardian who has the brain capacity of a walnut.

content. canon divergence (suguru’s alive and studying to be a kindergarten teacher), possible ooc characters, female!reader.

notes. guys i’m a sucker for satoru who really, really tries and isn’t just a goofy man-child ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ also ! thank you all for your patience, it took me a while to finish this piece bc of uni, so i'm vv happy it's finally done <3

taglist. | masterlist.

“I don’t have a dad.”

As cruel as it may be, a part of Megumi hopes that the sentence makes his teacher greatly uncomfortable. Demanding for a father to attend a Career Day at school simply isn’t fair to children without one—or, well, to the child without one. It’s not his fault his father hauled ass and left, so why is she making this so difficult for him?

“Oh,” she mumbles. It seems his arrow hit the target, as her eyebrows pull together in a frown and she shifts her weight between her feet. “Well, you, uh, have a male guardian, don’t you?”

Megumi grimaces. Instantly, he thinks back to last week. Satoru Gojo, self-proclaimed strongest, had hit his head on a kitchen cabinet. With a dramatic pout and an overexaggerated wobble to his lips, he clung to you for hours. Some affection will make it all better!

Of course, when Megumi criticised his skills surrounding his infinity technique—because, really, how couldn’t it block a simple cabinet—the sorcerer opted to ignore him. He suspects there was some foul play at hand.

“Barely,” he mutters, as the memory resurfaces.

His teacher lets out a startled hum. “I’m sorry?”

“Nothing,” Megumi says quickly. He watches as she starts typing on her computer, and the realisation that she’s probably currently taking a look at his file isn’t a particularly welcome one. “What about my other guardian? Can I bring her, instead?”

“This event is geared towards fathers,” she explains. It’s obvious she forgot her reading glasses today, Megumi thinks, as she needs to narrow her eyes to read the screen in front of her. “I have one Satoru Gojo noted down as your male guardian. Surely, he will be able to attend.”

Megumi pauses. He blinks up at her expressionlessly, and fights off the urge to push his teacher down a well. You often preach about being kind to others, and that wouldn’t be very kind.

“Can’t I take my oth—”

“I’m afraid not,” she interrupts him before he even gets the sentence out. It irks him. Megumi isn’t fond of speaking to begin with, so when he does, he’d prefer not to be cut off halfway through. “An exception will not be made. Please, make sure to bring Gojo-san to school.”

Megumi briefly, and for the very first time ever, mourns the fact that you and Satoru weren’t married. A small part of him calls the man a coward for not asking you to. If he’d simply taken the step, then Megumi would be able to pass you off as Gojo-san. Unfortunately, he can’t, and it’s becoming increasingly clear that there’s no way around this problem.

“Fine,” he grumbles. It takes all of his remaining willpower to not stomp out of the classroom. Once again, he thinks of you. It’d be extremely bad manners. He can’t find it in himself to wish his teacher a nice day this time, though, and so she’ll have to make due with a slightly less polite Megumi for today.

There’s nothing he can do about it. Satoru will have to come to the school.

Megumi suddenly despises the idea of Career Day.

“I need you to come to my school next week.”

Immediately, all chatter around the dining table stops. For once, Megumi finds himself annoyed at the sudden appearance of silence. Before he said it, he knew his words would most likely have such an effect—he just didn’t expect it to be so instant.

He tries his best to feign nonchalance, as if the topic that’s coming up didn’t make him feel stressed-out beyond belief. The confused, startled glances you and Satoru share don’t do much to help him, either. Perhaps it’s because Megumi is looking straight at him; him instead of you. Yeah, Satoru, he isn’t a fan of it, either.

“Me?” The man asks then, and Megumi has to resist the urge to say, ‘no, I meant the snail in the backyard—yes, you,’ in the most sarcastic voice he can muster up. Satoru once again steals a look at you, ever so oblivious to Megumi's mental remarks. “Don’t you mean—”

“I don’t,” Megumi cuts him off solemnly. His lips are pursed shut, and he pokes the slices of pork belly in his bowl with his chopsticks. One didn’t need to be of particularly high intelligence to notice the boy’s displeasure. “I have to bring a male figure for Career Day.”

It’s slow, the morphing of Satoru’s face, but it happens gradually and doesn’t stop until he’s positively beaming. Megumi doesn’t like it one bit. Nothing good happens when he looks like that, and he’s quite sure that all that will spew out of his mouth in a few seconds will be nothing except for pure nonsense.

“Well, luckily, I will have the day off, then!” Satoru chimes, with a smile so wide it causes two dimples to appear on his cheeks. You copy his smile, and gently go to poke the little dent in his skin—Satoru lets you, as he always does. Megumi would think of it as cute if he weren’t so annoyed. “I will be there.”

It seems he was right. Satoru’s words are pure nonsense.

“I didn’t tell you when,” he comments dryly.

The sorcerer blinks. His smile is still on his face, but it’s fading, and the dimples do so with it. Your hand hovers halfway in the air, stuck with nothing to poke, and you slowly bring it back down to your side. It seems neither of you had taken time to think about that small fact—Megumi blames Satoru for dragging you down with him; him and those indentations in his cheek that you always seem to coo over.

“Oh,” Satoru mumbles. A crease between his brows forms as his brain hurries to catch up with the newfound information. A few seconds pass, and then the previous bravado returns. “Well, it doesn’t matter! I can take the day off. When do you need me? Tell me, and I’ll be there.”

Megumi very much doubts he can take days off all willy-nilly like that, especially after he pushed his workload onto someone else to attend his science fair last time, but then again, what does he know? If Satoru didn’t care about the consequences of his actions, then Megumi wasn’t about to break his own head doing so, either.

“Next Friday,” he mumbles. From the tone of his voice, it’s quite clear that he’d rather be saying anything else. “We have to leave at eight a.m., please, be on time.”

“Sure thing!” Satoru chimes, and with that, Megumi thinks the dreaded conversation has finally come to an end.

All in all—it could’ve gone worse. At least Satoru didn’t prolong it unnecessarily. Nor did he add a bunch of relentless teasing. He glances at the sorcerer. Satoru is happily munching on the dinner you’d prepared, both his cheeks stuffed full with entirely too much rice. It’s unbecoming, and a reflection of his poor manners, Megumi thinks, and he doesn’t understand how you look at the man with such hearts in your eyes.

Though, your more than adequate cooking seems to have saved him from one of Satoru’s onslaughts. He’s grateful. Even if he doesn’t particularly enjoy the sight in front of him.

“Hey, ‘toru?” You ask, breaking the silence with a slight hesitation to your voice. It nearly sounds nervous, and both Megumi and Tsumiki look up in alarm. Satoru hums, still chewing away. “What are you going to tell the class?”

Satoru stops eating. His chewing comes to a halt, and his chopsticks freeze in the air. A slice of pork drops from between them, and falls back into his bowl—It’s not hard to see the cogs turning in his head. “Uhm, I. . .” He swallows the food still in his mouth, and clears his throat.

Right. It’s Career Day—but Satoru can’t tell a bunch of seven to eight-year-olds that he hunts and kills grimy, ugly, and freakishly scary curses for a living, now, can he? Megumi doesn’t think that would go over well with the other parents. The boy sighs. It’s just one thing after another. He grimly believes the world might just be out to get him.

“I. . .Oh! I can tell them I’m a teacher,” his guardian scrambles for a solution, and Megumi can’t help but think it’s a little lack-lustre. Who would believe that guy is a teacher, anyway? Then again. . .Megumi doesn’t know a better fix for their current problem, either. He was so focused on the fact that it was Satoru that had to come to the school, he all but forgot about the fact that the dear thorn-in-his-side didn’t possess a normal job. “Suguru has told me a thing or two about his internship. I can take inspiration from there.”

Ah, yes. The famed Suguru Geto. Megumi has met him before. He hasn’t actually spoken to him, however. The man often visits, and has twin girls clinging to him when he does, and while Tsumiki seems to really like him—and them—Megumi doesn’t have an interest in seeking out some form of interaction, yet. Whenever he comes over, Megumi opts to hide in his room. Suguru never tries to disturb him, nor does he try to coax him into coming out. He’s very grateful for it.

So, despite never speaking to him, Megumi knows about Suguru. Well, he knows enough. He knows Suguru went to school with the two of you, and he knows something really, very bad (nearly) happened that caused the man to take a step back from the world you all live in. What exactly happened (or what didn’t happen), Megumi doesn’t know for sure. You and Satoru almost never speak about it, and when you do, it’s in hushed voices—and you always stop immediately when he enters the room.

But that’s okay. He doesn’t need to know. Suguru doesn’t force himself upon Megumi, and so he will extend him the same courtesy. “I thought Geto-san wasn’t a teacher, yet?” Tsumiki speaks up from beside him, tilting her head to the side in confusion. “Mimi and Nana said he’s still learning. How can he be teaching, already?”

“He’s not a teacher, yet, munchkin, well spotted,” Satoru answers with a proud grin. The nickname annoys Megumi—the feeling of irritation has been conditioned into his very being after Satoru chose it as the designated nickname for both of them. “An internship helps him build experience in the field. It means he is still learning, but he will do so while teaching.”

Tsumiki nods in understanding, her mouth opens and her lips curl into a small ‘ah’ as the information settles in. “So, you will pretend to be a teacher, then? At Megumi’s school?”

Satoru bites on his bottom lip, seemingly deep in thought. Seemingly—as Megumi is quite convinced he doesn’t ever think before he speaks. “I think so, yes,” he explains, and unknowingly retorates Megumi’s train of thoughts. How annoying. Satoru looks towards you for approval; it’s something he does very often. “It’s probably the safest route, no?”

“It’s our best option,” you say, and bring a thumb up to the corner of Satoru’s mouth. Gently, you wipe away a grain of rice stuck to his skin. It’s effortless, and nearly automated. Megumi wonders how many times you’ve had to do that. “Pretending to be a teacher shouldn’t be too difficult a task. Right, mochi?”

“Right,” Satoru echoes. His eyes track your every move, and the slight, pink colouring of his cheeks doesn’t seem to embarrass him even a little bit. Megumi thinks it should. Have some decorum. “I can do it, no problem.”

“Alright then,” you say, and smile. First at Satoru, and then at Megumi. You look at the boy for a few seconds; you’re about to ask him if he’s okay with it. He knows you are, because you always do. “Is that okay for you, Megumi?” It’s like clockwork, almost.

Megumi feels the need to answer with something snarky. Something akin to the sound of ‘What choice do I have?’ but he doesn’t—because you’re being kind, and you don’t deserve such a response. So, instead he turns towards Satoru.

“. . .Just don’t mess it up.”

Satoru delivers a whole spiel about how ‘he’d never do that’ and that he’s ‘more than capable’ of telling a little white lie, but Megumi dilutes it to background noise rather quickly. He continues sputtering his nonsense when Megumi and Tsumiki stand up to clear the table, and still hasn’t stopped even when you and him start loading the dishwasher together—Megumi chooses to seek reprieve in his room while he’s distracted.

It isn’t until many hours later, when Megumi leaves the sanctuary of his room to swipe a quick snack from the kitchen, that he first hears Satoru speak about something other than his great, and very much sufficient, ‘capabilities’. Your voices are muffled, and Megumi has to focus to make out your words. His soft, inaudible padding down the illuminated hallways comes to a halt. As if that would make his ears function better.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Satoru?”

The boy frowns. With such gentleness in your voice, it’s hard to identify the worry lingering beneath the surface. Megumi moves a bit closer. He stops one step shy of bumping into the wooden surface, and peeks through the groove. The door is ajar—it’s something that allows him to watch how your eyes follow Satoru’s large frame as he paces around the room. It’s strange. Seeing him so. . .frazzled.

Satoru nods. “I can do this, I know I can,” he says, and quits his pacing to look at you. Megumi can’t see his face, but he can see yours. He might as well not have, though, as he can’t make out the emotion that fills your eyes. It’s not one he himself has in his repertoire, that he knows for sure. “He never asks me for anything, princess. I have to do this right.”

Ah, this isn’t a conversation Megumi is meant to hear. He should probably seize his eavesdropping, he thinks, and winces a little when he properly analyses Satoru’s words. They’re truthful. Megumi doesn’t go to him when he needs something. His first thought is to go to you—and his second, Tsumiki. And if he’s being honest anyway, his third thought very likely isn’t Satoru, either; He’d try to solve it on his own if it came down to it. Megumi frowns again. He doesn’t like how that realisation makes him feel.

A careful shuffle of footsteps breaks him free from his thoughts. Megumi looks up, and catches how you place a hand on Satoru’s cheek. “I’m sure you’ll do great, baby,” you mumble. There’s a small, soft smile on your lips, one that quickly makes way for the peck Satoru places upon them.

“Thank you,” Satoru whispers. One of his hands reaches for yours, and Megumi suddenly feels as if he’s intruding on something when the man brings them up to his lips to press a tender kiss to them. Okay, no, definitely intruding—ew.

The boy scrunches his nose up in disgust, and hurriedly darts back towards his room. Suddenly, he has lost his appetite for a late-evening snack. Megumi lets out a deep sigh once he’s all tucked into his sheets again. Perhaps giving Satoru a shot wouldn’t be that big of a problem. Just one, though.

. . .Yeah, just one should be enough.

It’s the final, conclusive thought Megumi has before dozing off to sleep. Blissfully unaware of the conversation you and Satoru share—now behind a very closed door.

You stifle a giggle. The disappearance of Megumi’s presence outside your bedroom was quick and rampant as soon as Satoru started to kiss your hands. Something the sorcerer did very deliberately. It’s as if the boy suddenly forgot about the very special, very effective pair of eyes his guardian possesses. And with a cursed energy output such as Megumi’s, it would be hard not to recognise his presence.

“You did that on purpose,” you comment. “How cruel of you, mochi.”

Satoru hums, and kisses the inside of your wrist. “Maybe, the little brat shouldn’t eavesdrop, then,” he defends himself. There isn’t an inkling of guilt to be seen on his pretty face.

. . .Though, both of you still take some extra care to shut the door next time.

Megumi faithfully believes that, as of today, he has used-up all of his luck for the next five, no, ten years. It can only go downhill from here. For some inexplicable, mind-boggling reason—Satoru is actually pulling this off. That’s not all; he’s not merely winging it, he’s genuinely doing well. The boy can’t quite believe his eyes.

When he’d walked to the front with such an overexaggerated pep in his step, and an overabundance of bravado rolling off of him in waves—Megumi couldn’t help but watch on with a grim look, and a healthy dose of negative thoughts. It only amplified the nerves he’d collected so far during the walk to school. Somehow, watching Satoru give your flashcards a frantic do-over did very little to ease his bubbling anxiety.

There were many of them, flashcards that is. All possible questions his peers or his teacher could ever think of are written on those little pieces of cardboard. Courtesy of you, and your boyfriend. Megumi’s able to recall all those nights the two of you spend at the kitchen table—practising. He thought it was silly at the time.

But, as it turns out, it works.

Satoru is fun. To other people; Megumi doesn’t share the sentiment. Against all odds, he’s dynamic, and speaks with conviction. His flamboyant hand gestures have others think of them as amusing—captivating, even. Satoru is talking, and they’re all hanging onto his every word. No matter the fact that they’re all cleverly disguised lies.

Megumi can’t wrap his head around it. He doesn’t need to, however. If anything, he’s relieved that his peers think of his guardian as cool. While he certainly does not share the opinion, he isn’t too dense to admit that such a belief will save him a lot of embarrassment in the future. So, for this one, single day, he will let Satoru Gojo be cool. His snarky comments can resume tomorrow.

“Ah, it seems you have a deep love for your profession, Gojo-san,” his teacher says. She interrupts Satoru’s rant, and catches his attention as well as Megumi’s. Her voice is light and airy, and carries nothing that should cause him to fear the worst. Still, the boy feels on edge. “Though, I don’t remember the grade you are teaching. Could you tell us, again?”

Ah, and there it goes. The very first card in the elaborately built castle of lies.

Satoru pauses. A second passes, and then two, and three, and so on. He doesn’t speak for a good thirty, and Megumi can nearly see his mind leaf through his beloved flashcards—flashcards that are now neatly tucked into his pockets and entirely out of reach. That’s good. Because the absolute last thing Satoru should do now, is resort back to the flashcards.

Megumi shakes his head no as a signal.

“Ah,” Satoru says. “I teach kindergarten.”

Satoru didn’t catch the hint. Megumi wishes the ground would swallow him up. It would have been the correct answer—it is the answer that’s written on the flashcards—if Satoru hadn’t decided to go off route. Getting too caught up in the story he’d been free-writing, and allowing himself to get carried away by the looks of awe is resulting in his downfall, which, consecutively, will end with Megumi’s downfall, as well.

“Huh? But! What about the science experiment that exploded?” One of the children in his class whines. “I didn’t get to do that in kindergarten!”

“And the backflip you taught your students!”

“What about the first prize in the talent show? I thought your students were famous!”

The little bit of colour that normally resides in Satoru’s face steadily disappears, and he clenches his fist at his side. Ah, it’s great to know he’s at least aware of his mistake. That won’t help either of them at the moment, though. Megumi’s eyebrows furrow, and a feeling of distress overtakes him. It shows on his face. He doesn’t exactly go through the trouble of trying to hide it—there are bigger problems right now.

How utterly humiliating to be caught lying.

Satoru’s eyes find him. They’re just as troubled as his own. It worsens his anxiety.

“Oh, uhm, you see. . .” Satoru stammers, and Megumi’s stomach churns when the children around them continue to ask more and more questions. The wince his guardian lets out does little to soothe him. Megumi sighs, and looks at the ground. “Ah, I see. It seems you guys saw right through me.”

Megumi slides down in his seat. Maybe, if he tried hard enough, the ground would absorb him. It’s currently looking like a preferable fate.

“. . .I’m actually a detective.”

Oh, Jesus Christ.

“And. . .And for a detective, it’s very important to listen to what people say, because they could be lying!”

It’s a sad, pathetic excuse for a save. Megumi briefly ponders the distance between his seat and the door. Perhaps he could make a run for it. The subway station is very close by—getting on and travelling to an entirely new city to start a new life doesn’t seem like such a bad option. He sighs. No, that’s not possible. You and Tsumiki would be very worried. What else is there to do, though?

“You all picked up on my lie, which tells me every single one of you could make a great detective in the future.”

Megumi thinks Satoru might have some underlying mental problems. Though, they can’t possibly be as severe as the problems his classmates have—for they all believe the nonsense he’s giving them. Bright eyes, filled with hope and admiration, stare up at the man at the front of the class; impressed hums and entertained smiles get passed between the parents standing at the edge of the room. And Satoru, well, he seems entirely too proud of the fact that he made a bunch of children think they’re destined for a career in law enforcement. But, be that as it may, it works.

The children stir up unrest—the good kind this time, the kind that vocalises their excitement—and all rush to ask the detective a question. But, before they can even open their mouths, Satoru claps his hands together. It seems he has decided enough is enough, and it’s one of those very rare moments where Megumi agrees with him. The boy needs this to be over already.

“Alright, that’s it for today,” Satoru says, and feigns disappointment. He pretends to be affected by the sad groans of the children—keyword being pretend, as to the trained eye it’s quite clear that he wishes to leave. “I’m not allowed to tell you more.”

Ah, see, now that’s a good card.

“Wait, but, what about. . .”

“Ah, sorry, that’s confidential. Detective stuff, y’know?”

Confidential. Megumi thinks that might just be his new favourite word. The lingering feeling of anxiety slowly starts to subside with every step Satoru takes towards the back of the room—to the back, and away from the spotlight. His eyes follow the man’s large frame, but Satoru never chooses to look at him in return. His line of sight is firmly focused on the floor. It confuses Megumi, but he chalks it up to a mere whim.

All things considered (and minus the near cardiac arrest he went through), today went pretty well, after all. Much to his surprise.

Perhaps Megumi doesn’t hate Career Day. A strong dislike is more like it.

Megumi can’t count the times he wished for Satoru to be quiet. The exact number is much like the digits of Pi—huge, and absolutely never-ending. He can, however, count the times he didn’t wish for him to be quiet. As of today, that stands at a very solid one.

The birds around them chirp, and the bustle of other people is heard all around them—but they’re the only sounds gracing his ears. There is none of Satoru’s incessant chatter, nor is there even a glimmer of gloating about a job well-done. It’s eerily silent, and Megumi isn’t sure what to make of it. This isn’t quite how he imagined the walk home to go. Far from it, if he’s being honest.

“What’s up with you?”

It’s possibly the first time Megumi decides to break the silence, ever. The boy frowns, and fiddles with the straps of his backpack. There isn’t a middle-ground with Satoru, he has found out. Either he speaks entirely too much, or unnervingly little. There’s a tiny pebble in his path, and Megumi feels the need to kick it forward—so he does.

“I kind of messed up there, huh?”

The kick doesn’t have nearly enough force to it. Megumi watches as the little rock skips forward. Once, twice, and then it comes to a standstill again. “Yeah, kind of,” he agrees.

“I’m sorry,” Satoru rushes out. It’s said so fast, as if it physically pains him to say it. Perhaps it does. It’s sincere, however. There isn’t even a hint of a joke to be found. Something must be bothering him. “It didn’t go how I wanted it to go, and I don’t know why I went astray, and forgot about the cards. It—well, it was pretty stupid.”

Megumi doesn’t exactly feel the need to deny it.

“So, I get it, okay?” He continues, seeing the boy’s silence as an empty space for more conversation—more rambling. Since that’s what it is; rambles, plain and simple. Megumi doesn’t see the need for such a fuss. “I shouldn’t have strayed from the plan, and. . .”

“It’s fine.”

Satoru blinks at him. “What?”

“I said it’s fine,” Megumi repeats. Because it really is fine. Admittedly, it wasn’t smart of Satoru to all but discard your carefully planned presentation, but it ended well enough regardless. No harm, no foul. “Thank you for coming.”

That small, short sentence is enough to stop Satoru in his tracks. Megumi doesn’t, however. The man is very tall, he’s sure to catch up in a jiffy; he doesn’t need him to wait. There’s another small silence, though this one feels a lot more comfortable than the last. Satoru takes his time to process, and Megumi lets him.

“W—What?” The sorcerer stammers in shock. There is no need for Megumi to turn around and see—he can hear the smile curling onto his lips. “Did you just. . .”

“I won’t say it again,” Megumi grumbles definitively, and picks up his pace. The very tips of his ears heat up, and the apples of his cheeks turn red. The feeling of embarrassment. This wasn’t exactly how he’d envisioned it to appear when the day started.

Satoru attempts to run after him, to catch up. “Megumi!” He calls out, the very prominent, very familiar whiney lilt now back in his voice. Megumi didn’t miss it. “Wait for me, I didn’t hear you! Could you repeat that?”

“Yes, you did!” Megumi says, and throws him an annoyed glance from over his shoulder. He tightens his hold on the straps of his backpack. “Stop lying.”

“Nuh uh!”

“What are you? Six?”

Satoru’s toothy grin is infuriating. But—it’s familiar. And Megumi discovers he’s much more at ease when that grin is on display, than when the man in question is moping around. It’s a lot less alarming.

“And a half,” Satoru adds.

The scowl that’s on Megumi’s face appears almost instantly when he goes to ruffle his hair. For a man whose technique largely surrounds being untouchable, he has a surprising lack of awareness concerning this thing called personal space.

“Ugh,” Megumi groans, and pushes him off. It doesn’t work. Satoru gravitates towards him again—almost as if he’s a magnet. He doesn’t attempt to move a second time. In moments like these, it’s best to let Satoru get it all out of his system. “You’re so stupid.”

It’s true. He does think Satoru is stupid, but he can’t deny it—Satoru tried his very best today, and in the days prior. Which makes him one of the very small, barely existent group of people who have done so for him.

It seems one shot was enough, after all.

taglist: @luv-gin @sad-darksoul @parttimep3t @nanuer @bubbletae7 @chilichopsticks @gabirii @nyxlai @rattywatty @chaoticevilbakugo @ploylulla @sugasbrownsuga @littleagxs @m3ow1 @booksarekindaneat @frankenstein852 @bananasquash @jasm-1ne @chicken-fifi @yanelis-world @satory @satoryaa @sasfransisco @faetoraa @softiehee

#ꕤ — sanatomis darling: fushiguro megumi #ꕤ — sanatomis darling: gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x platonic!reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

1K notes · View notes

stevesgother · 2 months ago

Text

Dress - S.H

Paring - Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

WC - 1.5k

Summary - 2 times Steve Harrington has lost his mind seeing you in a dress that fits you like skin, and the one time he does something about it.

Contains - best friends to lovers, mutual pining, reader is pathetically in love, loosely based off of ‘Dress’ by Taylor Swift. Or maybe heavily based lol

Warnings - steve & reader ARE 18 in this, they just haven’t graduated yet, drinking, vomit. As always, let me know if I missed anything

AN - THIS IS PART 1 OF A WIP. second fic…ever! also my first mini series! i was gonna make it all one fic but i figured it would be easier to digest this way. enjoy :)

Senior Prom - May 1985

Michael Cooper. That’s who was waiting for you downstairs in your foyer, sweet talking your parents while he waited to escort you to your final high school dance. He wasn’t your first choice for your senior prom, hardly even your second; but he was respectable enough for you to be seen on his arm for one night.

Taking one last look at yourself in your vanity mirror, you smoothed your hands down the front of your dress. It was a beautiful baby pink ball gown with lace trim and puffy sleeves. Before you can think better of it, before you can feel guilty for it, you imagine Steve’s reaction when he sees you tonight.

Steve Harrington. Your best friend since diapers. Your mothers grew up together, so naturally when they found out they were pregnant at nearly the exact same time, it only made sense that they would orchestrate your friendship immediately.

As it turns out, not much orchestrating would be required. The second your little baby brains could comprehend what it meant to love another person, the rest was history. Wherever you went, Steve went too. You’re not sure when your feelings for him started to change. The usual calm that washed over you whenever you were in his presence one day seemed to transform into something different. You felt nervous, like someone had released a net of butterflies into your stomach.

You clear your head with a harsh shake and grab your clutch off the bed, making your way downstairs. Michael is waiting for you with a green corsage in a shiny translucent box. ‘That's Sweet,’ you think, “if only it matched my dress.’

–

Upon arriving at the gym, the first thing you do, consciously or not, is scan the room for your best friend. You spot him quickly, his perfectly manicured hair and well-pressed suit making him hard to miss. Even harder to miss is the gorgeous, curly haired brunette resting her head on his shoulder.

Nancy Wheeler.

They’ve been together for over a year at this point, even joining your close knit circle of friends. Despite this, you can’t help the nagging sense of jealousy stabbing at your chest, making your face heat up. You tell yourself it’s the humidity inside the gymnasium, and not the fact that you’d give anything to be in her position. You quickly abandon your date and try not to feel guilty for it, making your way over to the happy couple.

“Steve!” You call as you come further into their line of sight.

“Hey you!” Steve stands and gives you a tight hug. “Hey!’ you greet, returning the embrace. He can’t help the way his eyes quickly travel down the expanse of you, noticing the shape this dress gives your body. He prays to any listening God that his girlfriend didn’t notice, that you didn’t notice. “Hey Nance.” You address her with a polite smile. She gives you a hug without warning. Another thing that irks you about Nancy Wheeler: that girl is impossible to hate. You have every reason to despise her, and yet you can’t. She’s kind, funny, strong-willed and beautiful. She’s so ‘girl next door’, she’s so…not you. Occasionally you’ve wondered if it’s a front, that she can’t possibly be that perfect.

“Where’s Michael?” She asks inquisitively; like she genuinely cares where your douchebag date has run off to. A quick scan of the room reveals he’s already talking up another girl by the photobooth. There’s not one part of you that gives a shit. “We were just thinking about grabbing some food, wanna come with?” Steve nods his head toward the various appetizers they have set up on tables decorated with gaudy tinsel and tablecloths. “Yeah, why not?”, you smile and it doesn’t reach your eyes.

–

An hour and 2 cups of spiked punch later, ‘Heaven’ by Bryan Adams starts to play and you feel like you might hurl. Nancy’s face quickly lights up and she gives her date a knowing look, “Steve! Let's dance! Please??”. She’s immediately pulling him away from the table where you’ve been watching them flirt all night. Her delicate hand resting on his bicep, his large one finding a home on her thigh. He sends you a sympathetic look as he rises; sorry that he has to leave you there, sorry that you won’t be slow dancing with anyone tonight. He has no idea.

Your date is long gone. The two of you going together was a ticket inside and nothing more.

The air in the gym is suffocating and frankly smells of sweaty basketball shorts, so you decide to make your way outside for some fresh air. The romantic serenade of Bryan Adams’ voice is nothing more than a quiet lullaby as you lean against the brick wall of your high school.

You hear him before you see him. “Hey stranger,” the open door momentarily lets the humidity escape and you feel it wash over your skin. “you alright?” he asks with a half smile.

“Yeah just,” you say looking around, “getting some air is all,” returning the expression. He imitates you and decides to lean on the wall, a little too close for comfort. You’re all but slapped across the face with his scent. Cinnamon, a no doubt expensive musky cologne, and sweat. You can feel him looking at you, so you decide to meet his gaze; praying that he can’t see the crimson shade of red creeping up your neck and cheeks simply from standing next to him. You feel so pathetic at times like these.

“Nance found a couple of her girlfriends, figured it’d be a good time for a smoke.” He pulls a cigarette out of his suit jacket pocket, and lights it. His hand cupped to cover the breeze.

“Those’ll kill ya, you know?” you smirk, knowing. You’ve always teased him for his bad habits, especially this one. “Yeah well,” he says in an inhale, “now’s as good a’ time as any, right?”

He grins at you, smug. It sends you reeling and you hope your thundering heartbeat doesn’t give you away. Maybe it’s just the alcohol.

After a few minutes of silence, he stomps his cigarette out on the pavement and turns to fully face you.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?”

His words steal the breath from your lungs and your breath hitches in your throat. Steve’s complimented you before, thousands of times. So why does this feel like you’ve just been slammed into a wall of concrete?

“Steve…”

You feel like he’s getting closer. You’ve definitely had too much to drink.

Before you can stop yourself or even comprehend what’s happening, you vomit all the contents of your stomach directly onto Steve’s perfectly polished loafers. He yelps, most in surprise, slightly in horror. Despite that undeniable foulness of the situation, his hands immediately move to hold your hair back, just in case you aren’t, well, finished.

You don’t realize it, but you’ve started crying. “Hey, hey, it’s alright. You’re okay,” he soothes, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “Let’s get you home, yeah?” He starts to lead you to his car in the parking lot, leaving you here alone not an option for him. “What about Nancy?” you sob, “I’ll come back and get her, honey. Don’t worry.” Honey. You almost puke again.

Once he settles you into the passenger seat of his pristine BMW, you watch as he toes off his shoes and throws them in the garbage. When he slides into the driver's seat and turns on the ignition, he turns and brings a palm up to cradle your jaw. “Guess I’m gonna have to keep an eye on ya next time,” he chuckles, “can’t handle your mildly spiked punch.” You groan, but give a breathy chuckle of your own, “Just drive, Harrington.”

When you arrive home, you breathe a sigh of relief at the lack of your family car in the driveway. Your mother would certainly pitch a fit if she saw you like this - mascara streaked down your face, an obnoxious yellow stain down the front of your once flawless dress. Steve leads you upstairs with a hand on the small of your back, and a palm cradling your elbow. You know you’re not drunk, and you’re almost positive that wasn’t the reason you spilled your guts. But the alternative to just letting Steve take care of you would be admitting that you love him, that you’re in love with him.

You don’t bother taking your makeup off, Steve just helps you change into an old t-shirt and a pair of sleep shorts. “Lights on or off?” He asks as he pulls the covers up and over you, “Off, please.” he gives you a little two-finger salute, “you got it.” Just as he’s reaching underneath your lamp shade you whisper, “Steve?” he looks, “yeah trouble?” “I’m sorry for ruining your night…and throwing up on your shoes.” you give a sheepish look. Even though he would have every right to be, you know he’s not mad at you.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he leans down and presses a kiss to the crown of your head,”the shoes we can discuss at a later date,” he shoots you a wink, making sure you know he’s only teasing.

“Thank you, Steve.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

Without another word he closes the bedroom door, bathing you in darkness. Just before you succumb to sleep, you’re filled with dread at the thought that you’re gonna remember this in the morning.

Cheers to senior year.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #friends to lovers #mini series #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington series #i really hope this is good

449 notes · View notes

earthtooz · 9 months ago

Text

in which: you need to make it to liyue harbour in time so you can give kazuha a piece of your mind and a response to his love letter.

cw: fluff, 1.3k words, not too sure how canon accurate this is, potentially ooc-kazuha, gn!reader from inazuma, confessions, two wholesome idiots in love

a/n: for my little sibling @sixosix, i hope you enjoy

Liyue, out of all regions in Teyvat, is the hardest to run through.

It’s mountainous, your muscles will ache from going uphill, your ankles will be sore the next day from going too fast downhill. It’s grassy, the gravel is rough against the soles of your feet, and there is an abundance of hillichurls and samachurls waiting for you with their clubs and shields. Yet, they provide more motivation for you to outrun them, speeding right by their camps to get to Liyue Harbour in time.

Stupid Kaedehara Kazuha, when you see him, he’s in for an earful from you. Making you run from Lingju Pass all the way back to the Harbour, doesn’t he know how much you despise running for long periods of time?

A break is not plausible, especially when Beidou’s boat could leave the dock at any minute now.

When Liyue’s bustling harbour is in sight, it’s vast oceans appearing out the horizon, you feel like you can breathe. The sunlight glimmering on the ocean cheers you on, and you won’t stop until the waves are underneath your feet, the only thing separating you from them being wooden planks.

You push through crowds, too tired and determined to be polite and apologetic to shoppers you push aside. You run past Mingxing Jewelry, Wanmin Restaurant, and Master Zhang’s workshop, and don’t stop until you, yourself, are climbing onto the Crux. Crew members are shouting in protest at your sudden appearance, yelling at your unexplained entrance.

There are people trying to pull you off the boat, and you don’t really know where the strength to push off burly sailors came from, but you successfully fend off all of them, and find Beidou at the bow of the ship.

“Where is Kazuha?” You demand, decorum be screwed, nothing can stop your momentum now.

Her uncovered eye lights up in amusement, a hint of knowing behind her crimson gaze. “Right behind you.”

Lo and behold, the beige-haired in question was right behind you. “Uh, hello?”

“I have a bone to pick with you, Kazuha!” Stomping over to him, he grabs your wrist before you have another chance to talk, dragging you away from the bow of the ship where all the crewmates were unloading their cargo. (Beidou’s thundering laughter can be heard as he’s dragging you away, at least she’s not mad at your sudden intrusion.)

He stops when the two of you are on the quarter deck and turns to look at you with panic all over his face.

“What did I do?”

From your pocket, you pull out a piece of paper like it’s an incriminating piece of evidence, one that he’s stared at for too long, so much so that he can recall every dip and curve of the dry-pressed leaves he added on for a more personal touch. It has sat on his desk for ages, seen all of his turmoils and frustrations over delivering it to you.

The paper contains a mix of poems, haikus, and different confessions Kazuha has been harbouring in his heart for the past few years, ever since the two of you left Inazuma. Your hand clutching his gloved one as the two of you hurry onto Beidou’s boat with nothing but your visions, weapons, and the clothes on your back.

He has loved you for this entire journey, and words could not surmise the depth of his feelings, let alone a measly piece of paper. Some days, it sees the sun when he dares it to, but it always ends up right back on his desk, waiting for the day that it will leave Kazuha’s possession and fall into yours.

This morning was the exact moment. He slipped it in your bag before you went on your expedition, the two of you meeting for a quiet breakfast before his eight-month long expedition, and your two-week one. He had waved you goodbye as far as he could go before leaving Liyue Harbour, even staying on the outskirts until your group left his sight.

Nothing could have prepared him for seeing you so soon, not after putting that letter in your backpack.

“You’re a coward!” You accuse immediately, poking your finger to his chest. “A lousy coward!”

He takes it, knows that he should have just braved his fears and handed it to you in person, but the idea of being rejected on the spot causes his chest to ache in unbearable ways. The samurai rather you read it, then have eight months to prepare for your inevitable rejection.

Yet, he should have known that in the face of a storm, you are the only one brave enough to fight against the waves. Nothing ever goes the way he wants when it’s with you.

“You should probably sit down, Y/n, your legs are shaking and I’ll grab you some-”

Your hands fly up to grab the sleeves of his kimono, whether to stabilise yourself, or to stop him from leaving, or both, he stays. “Kaedehara Kazuha, I like you too,” you declare. “I just ran all the way from Lingju Pass, so I have nothing flowery nor sweet to say like your letter except that you are so very mean for making me come all this way.”

With one last heaved breath, you collapse to your knees. Kazuha, being the gentleman he is, freaks out and mimics your actions, clinging onto your shoulders.

“Y/n!” He calls out, his usually level voice breaching a panicked cry. “You shouldn’t be exerting yourself like this. Stay here, I’ll go grab water water.”

Listening to the samurai, you rest against a nearby pillar, feeling the dull aches in all muscles of your legs. Archons, you’ll feel the pain tenfold tomorrow.

Kazuha returns not too long with a canteen in hand, and he twists it open before handing it to you. After a few beats of tense silence, he speaks up.

“Honestly, I don’t really have anything to say either, I wasn’t expecting to see you for another eight months, and even then, I was expecting a rejection.” He admits sheepishly, a blush blooming along his cheeks. “Maybe an apology for making you run all this way just to see me is my first course of action.”

“Accept my confession first, jerk,” you punch his shoulder lightly, smiling up at him.

“I’ll accept anything so long as it’s from you, I thought I made that clear in my letter.”

“Don’t think you can charm your way into my good graces!”

He thinks it’s adorable that you’re trying to maintain your cool mask despite your inability to look him in the eye, even if he’s hardly faring much better. The usual lyricism of his words have faded, and his quick mind can’t think of anything poetic to say, as if your confession has intercepted all the functions of his brain.

You like him back, you like him back, you like him back, and he doesn’t know what to do with that information except smile like an idiot.

“Are you still going on your expedition?” asks Kazuha. “Your group must be waiting for you.”

“I told them not to, dumped my rations and things with them and told them they could use it. I’m not running all the way back now.”

“Then, does that mean you can join us?”

“I don’t want to intrude, and I don’t know if you have enough things on board for another-”

“-I’m sure Beidou and the crew wouldn’t mind. There are always extra rations, you can have some of mine if it gets to it, and our first stop is at sunset, so we could go and grab some clothes for you to bring along!” He quickly suggests, hope shining brightly in those crimson eyes of his, as if pleading for you to say yes.

The wind blows gently through his beige strands, and the moment feels enchantingly similar to one you had read in an Inazuman poem. Then again, Kazuha always had that effect; the ability to slow time and let you see the world through a different, prettier lens, even if the consequences were completely dire.

You want to continue seeing through his lens, exactly the way you did when both of you fled Inazuma and the Vision hunt Decree. And you want to see the rest of Teyvat the way he does.

“Okay.” You agree, “I’ll come along.”

#CUTIE KAZUHA :((#earthtooz: genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #kaedehara kazuha x reader #kazuha x reader #kazuha fluff

1K notes · View notes

evielmostdefinitely · 1 year ago

Note

Your writing is insanely good!! I desperately need more of jealous/possessive young!snow making it clear to reader that she’s his and only his. bc “If you ever let another man touch you, I would cut his fucking hands off on the steps of the Capitol Building for everyone to see.” floored me

jealousy, jealousy |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|

prompt: as requested above, coriolanus is jealous. briefly mentions jealous girl so tagging it here for those to read.

contains: dark, possessive, jealous coriolanus. established relationship. slight manipulation (it's coriolanus).

You were being polite, he knew that. These things were boring and you were simply finding a way to keep yourself occupied, the rational side of Coriolanus told himself that as he watched you from across the room.

Vulcan was simply a friend, the two of you had gone to Academy together, all through primary and secondary schooling. His family was on the council, which meant your schooling would have been together. Coriolanus didn’t despise him, tolerated him, truly. He thought he was respectable and well mannered, and gave lots of funds to his cause.

Why did he have to touch your arm like that?

Corio’s grip was so tight on his glass he was sure it would shatter between his hands, cut his palms, slice the skin and trail blood all over the white, marble floors. He had half a mind to do it, maybe that would pull your attention back to him. Have you by him doting and fussing over him, cleaning the glass out of his wounds, bandaging him up because he trusted no one but you.

Your laugh was crystal, trilling through the air straight to his own heart. How bitter it made him that he wasn’t the one making you laugh.

Instead, you were laughing with your school friends, Vulcan the center of your attention, entertaining you.

“Pardon me,” Coriolanus nodded to Dr. Gaul and the others, passing his glass to an Avox. “I must go see the Mayor.” He bowed out politely, always poised, even when his belly was burning with jealous rage.

He bypassed the Mayor, heading for you instead. “Oh,” Your friend saw you before he did. “President Snow.” She smiled, nudging you gently.

You turned, and for a moment, Corio’s jealousy was wiped away. Your dazzling smile, eyes lighting at the sight of him. It made his own heart flutter. “Darling,” You greeted, reaching your hand out for him. “Are you finished?”

Coriolanus could tell the champagne had taken its toll on you, loosening you more than he would have necessarily liked. He chose not to mention it, taking your hand politely, pulling you to him gently. “For now, I just have a break.” Corio muttered, eying the man in question, Vulcan, who had taken a step back.

“Vully,” You grinned, your gaze leaving him. Corio bristled at the loss of your attention, even more at the nickname. How dare you? “You must tell Coriolanus the story. He’ll find it so amusing.”

“Oh, I’m sure he has his own that would rival mine. He mentored the games with Lucy Gray.” Vulcan said politely.

“No, you must tell the story.” You insisted with a grin. “Corio, Vulcan was in the games after yours, and he had to mentor the feral child from District Ten-”

“-I hate to interrupt.” Coriolanus gritted, teeth bared in a tight smile he tried to pass off as genuine. “But I need you for a moment.” He looked down at you, hand wrapping around your bicep firmly.

You frowned, lower lip jutting just slightly. “Oh,” You deflated. Coriolanus was sure he might kill the man in front of him, who still looked at you with the watchfulness of a hawk- a predator. How you were missing this, Corio wasn’t sure, but he’d protect you from it.

“Excuse us. We’ll be right back.” You smiled softly at your friends, lifting the train of your dress, stepping with Coriolanus.

“Where are we going?” You frowned, clutching his arm to steady yourself, walking through the doors. “Who are we meeting?”

“You’re drunk.” Coriolanus hissed, jaw clenched in fury.

You frowned, looking up at him carefully. “I’m not drunk.” You protested. “I only had two glasses-”

Corio scoffed, his hand tightening around your arm. “Two? Were they spiked then?” His eyes narrowed at the thought, cutting down to you. “Did you get them yourself or did he get them for you?”

“Did who get them? Corio, please,” You pulled back on his grasp with a whine. “You’re hurting me.”

Corio loosened his grip, pulling you into an empty hallway. “Did he give you those drinks? What have I told you about taking anything from people? They want to hurt us, hurt me, and they know that if they go for you-”

“Coriolanus,” You snapped, cutting off his erratic ramblings. “Please, I-I did not take a drink from anyone. I got it from my private bottle, poured it myself.”

Corio’s chest still heaved, the burning wildfire coursing through his veins. He felt primal need, furious anger that raged through him in a way he hadn’t felt since his days with Lucy Gray. When he was so insecure, so unsure- when he attacked the man at her show, beat him on the stage for touching her. That seemed tame compared to what he wanted to do for you- what he had done for you.

“What’s the matter, my love?” You hummed, cupping his cheek gently. “Why are you upset? Is it the Heavensbees, I told you my father said he’d speak to them-”

“-No, it’s not-” Coriolanus huffed, pulling away, hand rubbing down his face in exasperation. He tried to keep from shouting at you, always feeling sick after. He took a breath, composing himself.

“Were you talking about Vulcan?” You asked, looking up at him, even as he avoided your gaze. “You think Vulcan would poison me?”

“Maybe not poison but drug you.” Coriolanus sneered at the mention of his name. “Get you unconscious and take advantage of you. The way he was all over you, you can’t say I’m far off.”

Your mouth rounded in clarity, biting back a smile. Coriolanus was jealous. Positively green with envy- well, more red, with the flush creeping up his neck.

“Corio,” You hummed, holding his hand in yours, purposefully pressing the band of your ring into his skin. “Vulcan is just a friend. We’ve grown up together.”

“I’m not sure he knows that.” Corio spat, squeezing your hand back. “Entertaining you like that. Flirting.” He scoffed in disgust. “Down right inappropriate doing that with a married woman.”

“He wasn’t flirting.” You rolled your eyes at his dramatics.

“Oh?” Coriolanus countered in challenge, brows raised in feigned amusement. “He was just touching you then for… what? Friendliness?”

You blushed under his gaze, Corio towering over you, stepping towards you until you were pinned to the wallpaper, his icy gaze holding you there.

“If I recall, my beloved, you were quite upset when a friend of mine touched my arm. Nearly clawed her eyes out, causing a scene until I had to drag you out of the library because you were so upset.” Corio’s voice was dark, rasping with that gruff tone that had you throbbing, tummy flipping with rushing heat, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“That-That was different.” You stuttered, avoiding his gaze.

Corio’s finger hooked under your jaw, pulling your eyes back to him. “Was it?” He tilted his head to the side, a predatory look in his eyes. You wanted to drop to your knees right there. “So the rules don’t apply to you?”

“Corio, I-I wasn’t purposefully trying to upset you.” You huffed in exaspiration. You really weren’t, you didn’t even know that it had upset him so greatly.

“Neither was I, but that didn’t stop you from being furious with Clemensia, did it?” Coriolanus lifted a brow, head tilting in challenge.

Your nose scrunched at the mention of her name, lips twisted in disgust. “No,” You grumbled, looking away from his eyes. “Corio, don’t be mad at me. I didn’t know it upset you. I thought it was innocent, truly. Vulcan is just a friend. You know my heart belongs to you only.”

“It might have been innocent for you, but I don’t trust him.” Coriolanus gritted, pressing you against the wall. “I want you to be careful, my love. You know the dangers of the world. We never know who’s conspiring against us.”

“I know, Corio.” You whispered softly, eyes rounding so sweetly up at him. “I’ll be careful. I’m sorry.”

Corio’s thumb brushed over your cheek softly, smiling at you- your heart skipped with joy. “You’re mine. You know that?”

“Of course,” You hummed sincerely. “I wouldn’t want to be anyone but yours.”

Those words, the look in your eye, it drove Coriolanus right over the edge. Hands cradled around your jaw, he kissed you with fever, body pressing right up to your own. His hands roamed over the silk material of your dress, squeezing, grabbing anything he could.

You squealed with delight when he pushed you into your shared bedroom, dragging you down the halls of the Capitol mansion until he reached your private wing. He practically pounced on you, holding you so close to his own skin. Sucking deep brusises into your jaw and neck, each mark a new claim- mine, mine, mine.

He’d make a call later, wire funds to someone who would ensure that Vulcan was dealt with. You’d hear of the news and run to him, rambling and upset about how he was right, how you didn’t know how you missed it. He’d soothe you, remind you that’s why he was here for you- to look out for you. Your father would approve even more so, another round of donations poured right into his funds, helping build his legacy. For now, Coriolanus was content between your legs, feeling you underneath him- the way you whined, squirmed, clawed at him. How you babbled his name over and over- begged for him, and for him only. His perfect girl, for no one else.

2K notes · View notes

drunkenkissesatdusk · 5 months ago

Text

LIKE LIKE!

pairings — grumpy!damian wayne — al ghul x sunshine!reader

warnings — they’re teenagers in the modern era of course they’re gonna curse (but not a lot), isn’t EXACTLY grumpy x sunshine but it’s okay it’s my one shot 👅

summary — friendship only gets you so far with mutual feelings and the shared yearning for more than that.

notes — hi guys

━━━━━━━ YOU’D MET DAMIAN WHEN school started, in the same advisory you two were paired up since neither of you really had friends. it didn’t bother either of you, since you actually got along.

he was pretty quiet, moody, and didn’t like anyone at school. you were the exact opposite. you were loud, cheerful, and got along with everything. that obviously didn’t mean you were necessarily friends with them.

what made you and Damian click so well was probably the fact that he only really seemed to like you — even if it wasn’t obvious.

even if he didn’t talk, didn’t smile, didn’t seem to have a sliver of an emotion, he still liked you. another thing he’d never been good at was explaining his emotions. he practically despised everyone because they treated him like some sort of bomb.

you pushed his buttons, messed around with him, and always gave him a little bit of a hard time. he didn’t hate it, he could never hate anything you did.

it was probably three months into your friendship with Damian that you hung out with him outside of school. he asked if you could come over, and you happily agreed. the day was normal, except you weren’t picked up by your guardian, rather — you went with Damian.

“hello, i’m Alfred.” you thought he was nice, an old British man that Damian told you had always worked for his family. if anything, he must’ve practically been a part of the family.

you, of course, introduced yourself. it was polite. Alfred seemed taken aback, and the look (or feeling) didn’t leave him when you turned and began talking Damian’s ear off.

the boy, however, seemed to have absolutely no problem with that. he seemed to be hanging on every word, Alfred could see the mixture of fondness and love in Damian’s eyes when he looked at you — too bad you were both as oblivious as ever.

at Wayne manor, you wore a smile as you walked behind Damian and into the large house. he waited for you to take your shoes off after him, his hands stealing away your heavy bag and throwing it over his unoccupied shoulder.

you were then introduced to Richard Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, and Bruce Wayne. of course, you’d always known who Bruce was — your guardian worked for him now, a feature you didn’t leave out.

Damian, not liking anyone here (except, obviously, you), tugged at your arm. you understood what he meant, even with a lack of words, and promptly excused the two of you.

Damian’s room was pretty plain, and you jokingly shook your head. “who knew you were so boring?” you teased, sitting next to him on his large bed.

you didn’t know then, but Damian actually had you here for a reason. for awhile now, he had found you in his every waking thought. it’s like you had overridden his normal thoughts, becoming the only thing he could comfortably think about.

it had proven difficult during patrol, his performance was lacking and he needed to do something to soothe his thoughts so no one saw Robin as weak.

“i wanted to talk to you, actually.” he muttered. it stopped your thoughts, and you turned to him curiously. he didn’t speak much, and you never pressured him to. when he did, you didn’t make a huge deal of it.

“what’s up?” you hummed, eyes locking in on him.

“i uh… listen, you don’t have to… y’know, feel the same? but… but i really, really like… you.” his sentence was awkward, which made you smile. he didn’t know, but you sure knew, you were head over heels for him.

“i like you too, Damian.” you laughed softly, letting your hand drop to his leg.

“holy shit, really?” he looked up, his normally inexpressive face suddenly unable to find an emotion, settling on utter disbelief and pure excitement.

“yeah.” you smiled fondly at him.

“does this… does this mean—” you cut him off, nodding. he reached forwards and tackled you in a hug, placing a soft kiss on your collarbone. suddenly, he stood up, jumping around happily.

“fuck yes.” he muttered, you began laughing.

this was the most important moment of your teenage years, your boyfriend, jumping around in excitement, because he was with you.

he tackled you into another hug, and you remained glued together until you had to leave.

you slept well with a huge grin planted across your face.

masterlist — reminder that asks / requests are open!!

#ceciljameswork #batfam #damian wayne #dc comics #dick grayson #fluff #jason todd #batman #damian al ghul #damian wayne al ghul #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne fluff

567 notes · View notes

coryndoll · 4 months ago

Text

not so bad

— in which rafe and y/n absolutely despise each other in public but crush in secret. rafe is failing his humanities class & is assigned y/n as his tutor . . . maybe all it took for this relationship to form was just a bit of forced proximity and some time.

college!rafe cameron x reader au

warning(s): n/a. just a bitchy rafe whos generous n gets awkward as fuck when it comes to u

authors note: college!rafe is lowkey nicer to y/n since he can’t help his buried feelings !! but he’s still an ass. i wouldve casted drew as himself but drew is too sweet i cant even imagine him having like a female sworn enemy that he lowk has a crush on

one | two

the door swings open, revealing rafe himself. he’s silent as soon as he sees you. “lock the door,” he says as he turns around and starts to head further inside, leaving you at the entrance.

“lock the door,” you mock-mumble under your breath as you enter, closing and locking the door behind you like you’re told. you look around, realizing you’ve never actually seen rafe’s dorm before. his friends’ dorms maybe, but never his.

his dorm is surprisingly clean, with only empty to fully filled water bottles scattered around, but very few. both sides of the room are displayed with posters on its walls, you can fell which bed is his and it’s made with its sheets tucked tightly in the crevices with two large pillows at the head of it.

you watch as he walks over to his desk and sits in the chair, opening up his laptop to the online textbook provided for the class.

he peers over his shoulder to glance at you, “can you fucking—i don’t know—sit down somewhere? the furniture isn’t coated in poison, you know.”

you fight the urge to make a remark, and you just sigh and let it go. “kay!” you say, and carefully making your way over to sit on the edge of his bed, placing your bag by your side. you catch his eye when you reply so eagerly without a problem, but you ignore this.

“where’s your roommate?” you ask him, looking around. “just wanna make sure when i need to expect someone- also, typically i charge for tutoring, and if crawford is making me tutor you then i’m charging you double. hundred-fifty an hour.”

rafe looks pissed, shaking his head and opening his mouth like he’s about to argue before closing it again. finally, he sighs, leaning against the wall by the kitchen. “my roommate’s just . . . out . . . today. he’s running errands. whatever, can we just get this over with? i’ll pay you after.”

you grin, feeling even satisified that rafe has to use his own cash to pay for however long this will take. “have a girl coming over tonight?” you guess from the way he��s rushing you. you reach into your bag for your ipad, “this wouldn’t be happening if you’d just pay attention in class, you know.”

“i know," rafe mutters, still annoyed but trying not to show it. "i just don't get how humanities could be important in the real world," he says, running a hand through his hair before resting the side of his head against his spread index finger and thumb, looking at you. “or my world, i mean.”

“still trying to do real estate?” you puzzle, pulling up the notes you took during class for him to look at. “it’s like your dad’s job, right? the cameron department thing.”

“cameron development,” he corrects you, hissing through his teeth.

“whatever. just surprised you’re not pursing sex work from all the girls i see you pull into bathrooms at parties,” you mutter out the end of your sentence under your breath, in a way not wanting to bring up that you’ve even noticed that before . . . again . . . and again . . .

“yeah?” he seems amused. “sex could sell more homes than fuckin’ humanities ever could.”

“sex?” you repeat with raised brows. “damn near prostitution versus political science, sociology, journalism, anthropology,” you name off as you lean left and right in your seat, pretending to think and weigh out your options. “yeah, maybe passing your humanities class can be a good thing! pull up your notes, please?”

“i did," rafe grumbles, gesturing to his laptop.

“i said notes, not the textbook. i wanna see what you’ve even written down while in class,” you say.

he’s silent as he opens up his documents, and he pulls up his most recent document filed under notes. he hands his laptop over to you as he leans back in his seat. you look over his text.

furrowing your eyebrows, you say, “okay, so you . . . you wrote the title of his lesson yesterday. that’s good. but under that you didn’t even write down any notes, you just have someone’s phone number. are you that predictable?”

he chews on his dog tag necklace and shrugs, taking his laptop back. “she was new. just wanted to make a friend,” he insists, closing out the tab.

you hum. you don’t really believe him but it isn’t like you care enough to argue over that. you hand him your ipad to show him your notes. “we’ll start at the beginning of the unit,” you tell him as he takes it.

rafe lets out a breath from his nose as he matches your energy from before, “‘kay!” he skims over your writing, gnawing on his pencil quietly.

you almost catch yourself smiling that he does this, but you refrain.

the lesson seems to be going better than you thought, though there are some pissed glances here and there from both sides. it takes two hours to go over the unit with examples and practices. you’re already exhausted.

finally, after what feels like an eternity, the lesson ends. rafe slumps back in his chair, relieved to be done with the humanities assignments that you made him do for now. he looks up at you, barely casting a smile your way. “thanks for the help,” he mumbles, awkwardly meeting your gaze.

“thanks for the money,” you say, half-reminding him that he needs to hold up his end of the deal as you stand from your seat.

as he stands, he bumps into your ipad on his desk. it collides with his opened water bottle he’d been drinking out of the past hour or so and both of you know what’s about to happen. you blurt out a noise and try to dodge the water coming your way but fail, getting his water on your legs and even more pouring at your crocs that invite even more liquid in. you can just feel your socks absorbing it now.

rafe grimaces as he stares down at your wet legs, and the least he does is reaches down to grab the bottle and the cap that flew off the desk. he closes it up and sets it on his desk as you take off your shoes and socks, holding them with barely your fingers.

“i have uh . . . towels, paper towels,” he says, and you just nod immediately, accepting whatever to dry yourself off.

when he comes back, you grab the paper towels and shove your soggy socks into his chest which he takes out of instinct before exclaiming and dropping them on the floor. you can’t help but look back and glare at him before patting your legs dry, and then tossing the paper towel into the nearby trash can that sat at one of the ends of his desk.

you can see rafe shrug as he picks up your socks and hovers over his trash can too. “might as well,” he murmurs.

“wh— are you serious?” you try to catch the socks, but then again, he’s too far and you have no business carrying some wet ass socks back to your dorm. your hands fall to your sides as you sigh.

it’s like he’s visibly contemplating (or debating with himself) before he walks over to his dresser and rummages through a drawer, finally pulling out a pair of socks. “here,” he says, tossing them to you, which you almost fail to catch from the sudden surprise. “they’re clean. swear.”

you give him a doubtful look. “i didn’t need your socks. i have plenty in my own drawer, thanks,” you say, placing the pair on his desk to reject them, and he stares at you.

he shakes his head and turns around. “so difficult,” he murmurs under his breath, and he quickly cleans up his drawer before closing it.

he grabs his wallet from on top of the dresser too, pulling out the wad of cash. you can tell from the look on his face that he’s not only doing this to count his money properly but also to subtly flex right in front of you. you roll your eyes and look away.

he counts out his three-hundred before handing it to you, scrunching up his nose as he stuffs his wallet into his pocket. you stare at the money, then take it while giving him a glare.

you quickly count it but bless, there’s two hundred dollar bills and then five twenty’s. perfect.

“okay, good luck on your exam,” you say and grab your bag, heading for the door like you’re in a hurry this time.

“wait,” rafe says, and you almost groan from annoyance. you just want to go back to your dorm. “here,” he mumbles to himself, and he steps over to the mini-fridge in the corner. he opens it up and grabs a water bottle, then tosses it to you.

“rafe,” you say, not really expecting all of these ‘gifts’ just for screaming at him for two hours about humanities. you toss it back to him, which he catches.

“just for the road,” he insists with a shake of his head. “since i spilled mine on you.”

you stare at him like he’s stupid. “dude, i live down the hallway.”

when you see his awkward reaction, you almost feel bad. actually you do. and it’s weird. usually you don’t notice this at all, but something about rafe feeling dumb about trying to thank you just makes you feel guilty for how you’ve treated him. fine.

you give him a look like you’re saying okay. that it’s okay to give you gifts and that you’re okay with receiving them. rafe doesn’t even cast a smile, he just nods. you squint your eyes at him before heading for his door again.

rafe meets you there and holds out the water bottle for you. you look up at him and take it. you almost smile, and it seems like he might too, but you both catch yourselves and quickly look away.

“ace your exam so you won’t have to hear from me like this again,” you say, half-joking to keep up their normal behavior.

“i’ll try, i’ll try,” he says simply, and stands at his door while you leave. you raise your eyebrows once before heading off to your dorm, taking your bag and your water bottle with you. you hear his door shut from behind you.

as you walk away, you can’t help but replay the moment in your head, the weird sense of camaraderie that just occurred. maybe, just maybe, rafe cameron isn’t the most horrible person on the planet. and it doesn’t help that he’s unfortunately attractive, which makes it slightly more difficult now to keep up the mutual hatred you have for each other.

from inside the dorm, rafe stands there for a moment, staring at the closed door. he shakes his head, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“not so bad,” he mutters to himself before turning back to his desk, ready to tackle his upcoming humanities exam thanks to you.

744 notes · View notes

whispereons · 3 months ago

Text

Oracle!Reader Part 25

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 24

Warning! My au is yandere and can detail gore. This chapter doesn't but previous chapters do.

The setting sun against the soft orange and yellows of the sky was a beautiful sight.

The hot wind cooled down into a warm breeze as people leisurely walked home, while others rushed to finish last minute tasks.

Inside Xinyue Kiosk, a fairly busy staff was running around as the weekend always brought more customers.

The only room that didn't have staff running in and out of was a VIP seating set on the top floor. A beauty for sure, but no one other than the needed servers were allowed in.

Smoke was blown into the air between two imposing figures while waiters placed a variety of foods onto the wide circular table.

“You reported a successful mission, Yelan, and even got your payment.” Another inhale of tobacco through a pipe was followed with a lazy exhale. “Yet that Oracle still walks around without fear. I don't believe the revival of the deceased is possible just yet.”

Scoffing, Yelan popped another spicy appetizer into her mouth and let Ningguang wait for her answer.

“I said they were shot off a cliff and landed with a splatter on the ground. Should I have taken a picture with a Kamera as proof too?”

Ningguang’s claw-like nails tapped on the table as she hummed contemplatively. “I assume you'll resume your hunt to finish the job?”

“My, how perceptive of the Tianquan to guess that I, who was severely injured and recently humiliated by a foreign smart mouth, wouldn't correct my mistake.”

The glowing blue dice in Yelan's hands shatters as the strings pull it apart. The hydro particles sharpen back into string as she lazily followed it with her eyes.

Her confident and unfazed demeanor wasn't suited to her beat up appearance. Bandages hidden beneath her clothing made it bulky in odd places, while her hand was stuck in a cast after it was crushed by the Geovishaps.

“That's good and all, but are you even physically fit to track them down? I know Dr. Baizhu refused you from his pharmacy, and he's the only one capable of healing you fast enough for this.” Ningguang paused to feed herself a few bites of Tianshu meat with her chopsticks. “Not to mention, The Oracle was the one who was healed by him instead.”

“I see you enjoy rubbing salt in my wounds.” Unperturbed by Ningguang’s taunts, Yelan crossed her legs as more hydro lines wrapped around the striking scratches on her arms that were left to heal on their own.

“Not that I'm surprised by that. You always did have a sadistic streak. My rare failures are the highlight of your day.”

Pastel pink lips with a forming purple bruise at the corner were licked despite the pain as Yelan smiled.

“But pain doesn't stop me, you know as well as I do that it only strengthens me further. And I've had more than enough days to regain my energy.”

Concluding the conversation, Yelan pushes herself off the chair and turns away, with the snow-white coat swaying behind her.

The clink of Ningguang’s cup being set on the table was enough for Yelan to slow down. To pause just in time to hear-

“I don't want you to kill The Oracle.”

Yelan came to a full stop at that.

She had tried to ignore how calm Ningguang was throughout the whole meeting. She had tried to brush off the amount of food Ningguang ordered.

Furthermore, she even tried to not question Ningguang's change of vocabulary from calling Y/n ‘the faker’ to ‘the oracle’.

Ningguang only smiled politely, the exact way she knew Yelan despised, as the trinkets adorning the hydro user swayed.

“And no, this isn't a joke.” She never fucking thought it was a joke.

“You'll be able to keep your payment too.” She didn't want the damn payment.

Not a trace of fear could be seen in Ningguang’s maroon eyes that stared into emerald tones that never failed to invoke a chill in enemies.

The click of Yelan's heels were the only sound heard as the tassel attached to her collar bounced.

“Then why are you requesting me to stop my pursuit?” The white and gold of Ningguang's outfit clung to her body like second skin as she took her sweet time answering.

“I was a bit too hasty in my judgment. Something greater than us both showed me my error.”

Annoying.

That's how Yelan found Ningguang at times.

Like she was greater than the rest. As if the Jade Chamber she spent her time in above everyone else placed her above in all other areas as well.

“Are you claiming that Y/N truly is the Oracle? Can the mighty words of the Tianquin prove that alone?”

“Careful Yelan, this kind of outburst isn't like you. I said it was greater than us both.”

Ningguang picked up her cup again and nursed it delicately.

“I simply want you to at least temporarily stop you until I'm sure of what to believe. This is just business, don't take-”

“Yes, yes, I already understand. Don't take it personally.” Yelan had already cooled down at this point.

There was no use in getting worked up over this. Although it was upsetting to find that she failed this job, if the employer no longer wanted it, then she wasn't going to push for it.

Pride and personal feelings should never get mixed up in this line of work, after all.

“I'll reach out to you at a later date for your next commission.” A server placed a piping plate of Cured Pork Dry Hotpot on the table, slipping Ningguang a piece of paper. “Just be sure to give Y/N the correct instructions on how to get here.”

Yelan ignored the Tianquan’s words as she walked to the door. “While I won't take any revenge on Y/N, do not expect me to come running back for this mission when they are inevitably shown to be a scam artist.”

The thought of Ningguang of all people being scammed is absurd. The two words just didn't belong together.

“I'm not one of your employees. You're just a commissioner at the end of the day. You seem to forget that fact.” Green eyes met red as both women masked their own faces with polite sarcasm.

“Don't take it personally.” The soft click of the door being shut left Ningguang in silence, with only the outside's bustle of activity to accompany her.

Amusement was clear on Ningguangs face as she took another long inhale of the pipe.

“Yelan never changes.”

--------------------

You didn't have much time left.

The sun was beginning to get masked by incoming gray clouds that no one seemed to notice before now.

It was funny how the first droplets started to come down on the woman you were arguing with when you asked for the time.

A single request for the time devolved into an argument about how all foreigners were suspicious and that only Morax deserved the title of Archon.

It was typical that you ended up asking the local nut job for the time. What would she even be? Racist? Godist? Archonist?

Maybe it’s ethnocentrism.

So you just blindly believed that the dinner must be soon and left to the restaurant after watching a stream of water single her out and dump her with water.

A shame you couldn't enjoy it with how your stomach was cramped up from the upcoming meeting with Ningguang. You haven't been this nervous since your first meeting with your boss back on Earth.

It made sense. Both people were powerful, mysterious and used people without a second thought.

The chilly breeze slowed your heartbeat as Xinyue Kiosk came into view, approaching the stairs leading up to the entrance, you spotted a very familiar figure next to the waitress.

Not slowing down, you walk up the stairs as jade eyes lock onto you with malice on the verge of hatred. A tsk leaves Yelan’s lips before she turns back to the waitress while pointing at you. “This is the Tianquan’s guest. Lead them to the room.”

Nodding, the waitress waits for you as you move past Yelan who doesn’t spare you another glance. Just as you followed the waitress into the entrance, the rain began to pour without warning.

You just barely caught sight of Yelan slipping on the last step due to the rain as her wet hair stuck to her skin. The door closed before she could see your little smile at her ‘misfortune’.

It was a shame that Teyvat couldn’t help you in more meaningful ways, but these minor instances weren’t taken for granted either.

Following the waitress past multiple tables, you looked around it curiously. Usually the game just cuts straight to the room, so you never got a good look at the restaurant itself. Most of them looked to be regular customers with tables near each other.

Farther in, you could see a shift in the layout and type of customers. Larger tables with big gaps as the customers wore fancy clothing clearly made of high quality silk and cotton. A table with blue hair caught your eye the most.

A bored looking Xingqiu sat next to an older man with navy blue hair. His hair was tied in the most pitiful ponytail you’ve ever seen, but at least his fancy suit looked nice.

It took you a bit but you finally remembered it as the skin from the 4.4 Lantern Rite event. You almost missed how Xingqui noticed your presence and excitedly waved at you before his father began to scold him.

Smiling apologetically, you gave a brief wave back before following the waitress up the stairs. Just how much further was Ningguang’s room? It couldn’t have been cheap, that's for sure…

It wouldn’t be that uncomfortable to walk all this way if people could stop staring at you. Half the restaurant had to be giving you a side eye harsh enough to kill as you walked by.

Stopping at a door the waitress pulled it open as thunder roared outside giving a brief flash of white behind the window frame. Licking your lips, you entered the room while the door shut behind you with a soft click.

“I’m glad to see you’ve made time to meet me, Y/n.” The voice of the source of your stress and anxiety was sweet, if not seductive. Moving your eyes from the fresh plates of food to Ningguang who sat at the head of the table, you smiled sharply.

“You make it sound like I had a choice in the matter.” Striding forward, you took a seat on the opposite side of the table and helped yourself to the food. If you were going to die, you’d rather it be quick and with no regrets.

“I apologize for any inconvenience my request may have caused you. I’m sure many people have wanted to speak to you after your unfortunate encounter with Yelan and Miss Shenhe.” Wow, she wasn’t even trying to be subtle.

Taking your sweet time to chew and swallow your food, you leave Ningguang waiting until finally opening your mouth. “Why don’t you skip the sarcastic pleasantries? I already know your true colors, do you think the Creator is as stupid as you are?”

Fuck being nice and polite. She wants to treat you like some dumb foreigner that has no clue on the connections she holds? Then she can handle you acting like the annoyed and irritated person you currently are.

The smiles you both wear are mirror images of each other, the slightest downward tick of her lips showing her displeasure was far too easy to mimic.

“Then that makes things easier for both of us. Do you know why I invited you here to speak with me, Y/n?”

Again, you leave her waiting for your answer as you pick a few more dishes and savor the flavors. The dishes were wonderful, no doubt about that but…

You missed the taste of the hotpot you shared with the Kamisato’s more.

“I had assumed it was an apology for sending Yelan on me like a bloodhound. But perhaps you were just after certain pieces of information that I might hold.” Your mind wandered back to Beidou who had spoken to Ningguang after you gave that prophecy to Beidou on the Crux.

Although it felt like ages ago, it’s been less than a month since you left the Crux. From what you could recall, the prophecy you gave the crew was that all the monsters, Leylines and other strange behaviors were due to the Creator returning.

Thinking back on it, you did largely gloss over the details to avoid being caught in your lie. Maybe that’s why Ningguang wanted you alive? After all, your words couldn’t be taken lightly after what happened with the Geovishap hatchlings. But she did send Yelan after that incident so unless she was late on hearing the situation, which was frankly impossible, she must have got some new evidence-

“Well, not quite, but it’s related so why don’t you listen to me before casting any judgment?” As if she was anyone to talk but interrupting her wasn’t worth it. Not when you could potentially find something useful.

Ningguang barely touches the food as you scarf it down like a man starved. Instead, she takes a long sip of her tea, purposefully leaving you waiting. Talk about petty, you think to yourself sarcastically as she sets her cup down.

“Recently I had a very unusual dream, I’ve had it once before but in a much different context.” A plain soup is stirred lazily as she stares down at the rippling liquid, she looks pensive with eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly. “Rex Lapis appeared to me the night that Yelan reported a job completed. Now, isn’t that strange?”

You didn’t stop or slow down your chewing as your heart thundered in your chest. Zhongli really appeared in Ningguang’s dream again?! This had to have been what he was telling you earlier about thanking him.

Should you thank him with a smile or a slap for making things more complicated? It’d be easier to decide later.

With Ningguang’s expectant ruby eyes on you, you shrugged your shoulders with an easy smile. “Is it that strange? The Oracle of the Creator that we all worship had just been shot down by the orders of the Qixing that are from his own region. It would be an insult to the Creator to not step in.”

An amused hum leaves Ningguang as she listens to your words. Still not touching her soup, she set her utensils down to fold her hands. “Rex Lapis did not speak to me the first time he appeared to me. But this time he did, only saying one sentence. Can you guess what it is?”

The urge to roll your eyes at the predictable question was strong but your self-control was stronger. “It would be confirmation of me being the Oracle, of course. Anything else would be blasphemous.”

“Do not be bewitched by novelties.”

The absurd and out of place words earned Ningguang your undivided attention. Your mouth opened to portray your shock and confusion, but your lips quirked to the side at the last moment in a disbelieving smile.

“Are you trying to say that, that sentence is what the Geo Archon said?”

“It is indeed.” Oh, you were going to smack Zhongli after this, screw the consequences! “I believe it’s safe to assume that he was talking about you.” A black gloved hand with gold claw like pieces attached were outstretched to you as she smiled down at you.

“It’s just as you said, ‘It would be an insult to the Creator to not step in’ when someone is claiming to be connected to our All Mighty Creator only to be proven false. ‘Anything else would be blasphemous’ no?”

Wow, you were right to hate Ningguang. Her smile became as sharp as her nails as you relaxed back in your chair. You couldn’t give her anymore ammo. Any sign of hesitation, nervousness, or even a waiver of emotional instability is all she needed to corner you.

In fact, this could all be a bluff! Zhongli truly believed you to be the Oracle, after all. Chances are that Ningguang altered Zhongli’s message to test you. Zhongli wouldn’t betray you, he wouldn’t…

Would he?

“And how am I supposed to blindly believe your words? After all, the first time Morax came to your dream you claimed that despite how much you wanted to tell him, you couldn’t say a single word.”

But it seems your reply was just a tad too late, as the heavy pounding of boots on wood flooring came from behind you. Pulling your eyes from blood-red ones to the Millelith guards now behind you, a hand grabs your hair and pushes you down.

The crack of the plates breaking and cutting into your jaw is only overshadowed by the food smearing your mask and skin. The humiliation is what really gets you riled up, but you swallow it down in favor of looking back to the modernized embodiment of mora herself.

“Is this really necessary? I wasn’t even getting up from my seat.” There’s a slight growl to your words that you don’t bother to mask as Ningguang lets her gaze move from you to the guards.

“They have a point. Release them, I only told you to use force if they display hostility.” Ningguang’s tone of voice is even, and not the usual professional kind. The soldier’s grip tightens for a brief, painful moment, before finally letting go and stepping back.

“My sincerest apologies for my misconduct, Lady Ningguang.” The soldier that touched you bowed to Ningguang as you glared at him. “But I implore you to take my reasoning into consideration.”

Pushing away the now destroyed dishes as a few servers cleaned up the mess, you listened halfheartedly to the soldier. “This person - no, this thing is the one responsible for the kidnapping and subsequent death of the most vulnerable children in this region.”

Blatantly, you sneered at the soldier while wiping off the food from your face. How dare he, a full-blown soldier no doubt trained to protect Liyue Harbor, accuse you of being the kidnapper when you were the one who saved them?!

Every soldier that you met when information gathering was more useless than the last!

Ningguang knew the truth, Xingqiu and Chongyun both told you how the Qixing were aware that you were the actual hero. Whipping your head to her, you stared at her to see just what answer she would give.

“Even still, disobeying my orders is enough cause for punishment. Return to the Ministry of Civil Affairs and have them send a different guard who can follow orders rather than emotions.”

The guard slumped at the scolding and glared bitterly at you, as you flipped him off in return. While watching him stomp away, you cursed Ningguang out internally.

She definitely knew the truth but was purposefully keeping her statements vague. Almost as if she was entertaining the idea of you being the one responsible.

“I want you two to guard the door so Y/n doesn’t escape during this conversation. Do not make the same mistake as Zhenhai.”

It was her.

Ningguang’s the one who spread that rumor that’s messing up your reputation. You should have guessed it earlier. Only she could have the intelligence to figure out the truth, the connections to spread her lie, and the power to make it have a physical effect.

But why? What did she gain from it?

Lost in thoughts and possibilities, you didn’t notice how Ningguang observed you. Beige strands rest on her shoulders to flow down her back till the ashen tips pool on her seat. Yet the blood-red of her eyes shine with something akin to fascination as she watches your fingers thrum against the wooden table.

What a delight for the eyes.

The silence is interrupted by the door opening and fake cat ears come into view. A new soldier closes the door behind the Yueheng before standing guard as she takes a seat without asking.

“I hope I’m not too late. It seems my invitation to this crucial dinner got lost in the journey.” Keqing began with a pointed look at Ningguang.

Smiling, Ningguang greeted Keqing in a pleasant but professional manner. “What an unfortunate result. At least you were able to attend now, hm? They are bringing out golden shrimp balls soon too.”

Judging by the slight twitch in Keqing’s demeanor, you can tell that she was simultaneously both annoyed and grateful. What a shame, you could have used her annoyance towards Ningguang.

“A pleasure to meet you once again Y/n, Yun Jin was very thankful for your quick and efficient help.” Smiling once you’re addressed, you nod and squeeze your hands together under the table.

Yun Jin’s name still shot a vague feeling of displeasure through your body. And Keqing acting like it was nothing only further enhanced it.

“Her show was magnificent. I’m glad she was able to successfully perform that day.” Waiters and waitresses brought out some more drinks and refilled Ningguang’s tea without interrupting as you began to speak.

“Let’s not beat around the bush any longer. Keqing, you joined us here to help conclude whether I’m truly an Oracle or not, right?”

Ningguang watched coolly as Keqing’s smile relaxed into nothingness, while her stare became firm. “That is correct. But please, focus on what Ningguang brought up first concerning her dream gifted by Rex Lapis. I’ll be making my own judgment by the end of this dinner.”

Nodding, you shrug your shoulders and twirl your cup without looking at it. “That seems fair. The outcome will be the same regardless.” The confidence behind your eyes is shown in the way you smile and relax into your seat.

“Ningguang, you still haven’t answered my question as to why I should even believe your dream even happened and if so, whether those words are what Morax said. But I’ll let it go for now and focus on something else for the moment.”

Jabbing a thumb behind you at the silent guard, you speak with a mock curious tone. “Just why in the world are people assuming that I’m the one that kidnapped the children when I was the one who saved them?”

Magenta eyes meet red before both pairs turn to you. “And please don’t treat me like a fool.” Resting your cheek on your palm, you sweetly spoke with a threat lingering in your words. “I already know that Ganyu couldn’t convince you both to think it was her who saved them.”

Ningguang sighs as if disappointed in your demeanor while setting her cup down. “The official details on the commission you took on are under wraps, just as the contract requires.” She looks down on you with her calm refusal as she finishes. “The Liyue Qixing isn’t responsible for what circulates and twists when it comes to word of mouth.”

You refuted her excuse just as fast. “I wasn’t asking the Qixing or the Tianqiuan. I was asking Ningguang.” Using your fingers, you begin to count the different instances of hostility.

“I’ve had people insult me, ignore me, discriminate against me, gossip behind my back and just as you saw before, even go as far as to be violent. If I went to Yanfei with this case against your personal guard Zhenhai I’m sure I could get a good settlement and put some bad light on you. Not anything serious, but surely annoying for you and the Qixing.”

Ningguang cleverly disguises her huff of irritation as her blowing steam off her tea, but you were just a little more observant than she gave you credit for.

“Should I even bring up how almost every medical equipment possible was either sold out or out of stock? The coincidence of it happening just as I was released from Bubu’s Pharmacy is a little too much to believe-”

“You’re still doing that Ningguang?” Keqing cuts you off accidentally to send an exasperated glare at Ningguang who only looked at her coldly in return. It seems you found something interesting to use. “It’s one thing to make my favorite dish out of stock, but it’s another to keep a medical necessity out of reach.”

“So I was right to believe that this was also your doing Ningguang?” You said with a laugh as Keqing looked confusedly between you and Ningguang who nearly glowered at you. “You didn’t tell Keqing either? Isn’t that just swell, I’ll fill her in on it while you prepare your excuse.”

The way Ningguang bristled at your insult filled you with spiteful pleasure. Turning to Keqing who gave you a wary look, you began to explain with a smirk. “It seems, while I was being hunted down by Yelan under Ningguang’s orders, the high and mighty Tianquin took it upon herself to ruin my reputation with her lies. You do remember interrogating Ganyu about who rescued the kidnapped children?”

“Yes…” Keqing answers with a suspicious glare as the servers placed fresh food on the table. Just how many damn servings did Ningguang order? “How did you even know-ah it must have been those boys.”

Knowing exactly who Keqing was referring to, you just nod while piling more food onto your plate. “Well the rumor about me being the one to spread it was being perpetuated during my absence and truly came to a head when I finally returned to Liyue Harbor. I have a certain Lady Ningguang to thank for it.” You sneered while pointing at her.

Keqing’s eyes widened as she listened to you, certain things must have been made clear to her too. “That explains why so many people came asking for an explanation on the Geovishap Hatchling incident.” Holding her chin with a pensive expression, she continued. “It also provides a good reasoning as to why you pushed me to give that public response even when our evidence was still shaky.”

… Why did you get a bad feeling at that?

Just what kind of statement was released?

With a fixed forced smile you stare at Ningguang who frowns at you before chuckling. “There isn’t any more reasoning for me to stay silent on the matter. Calm yourself Keqing, you as well Y/n.”

Folding her hands on her lap, Ningguang stared you down as she began. “Yes, I did create and encourage the rumor of you being the true mastermind behind the kidnapping. You were already beginning to become well known by the people considering how close you are to certain people and due to the false prophesy you shared with Captain Beidou.”

“Not false, my prophecy is very much true-”

“And while I am happy to have the children saved, we can’t let you walk around spreading lies about your identity, position and relation to the Creator. Especially after the Geovishap Hatchling incident showing just dangerous you are.”

“I didn’t have anything to do with the hatchlings. I was just as stunned as everyone else.” It’s a weak argument with no evidence showing otherwise, but you couldn’t let them slap that offense on you.

“The statement released about you was connected to the hatchlings.” Keqing cut in with a grimace. “From what we can gather based off your past actions and achievements, you having the ability to puppeteer monsters is the most likely outcome, and we told the public as much.”

Shit.

They were so far off yet closer than anyone else.

“I can’t and didn’t command those Geovishaps. Even if I could, what would I gain from ordering them to do so? It puts suspicion on me. I have no motive, and it was defamation to single me out and slander me in such a way without evidence.”

Turning back to Ningguang you asked with clenched fists nearly trembling with anger. “You haven’t explained everything. What was your goal in mind with vilifying me? Just damaging my reputation is not reason enough to spend precious time and resources on me.”

The food was beginning to grow cold, but you didn’t have the appetite to eat anymore. Ningguang didn’t look at you, but the humor she previously had was nowhere to be found.

“It’s a shame that someone as sharp as you is using their skills for such sad and disappointing reasons.”

“There is nothing to be ashamed of by being the Creator’s Oracle, no matter what trial and tribulations I must face.” Wow, you even impressed yourself with how serious and authentic you sounded.

“So you say.” Lithe fingers took out her pipe and leisurely left you waiting as you stared at her. Only after blowing it into your face did she finish. “What do you think would have happened if the foreigner with such a charismatic presence was suddenly found dead after rescuing children? How do you think the public would have reacted?”

Mind racing at her words, the surrounding setting seemed to fade away as your ears only picked up on Ningguang’s words.

“Now imagine they appear back in the city, injured but alive to tell the tale. Influential people and the like come to visit as their good deeds are spread within the city. A fresh face on the scene with information that even extended to knowing about private conversations I’ve had. How many people with grudges too high and old to handle alone would come, offering a helping hand, a mutual beneficial contract that could help the ‘wronged’ foreigner?”

“Haha… Hahaha!” You’re laughing before you know it. A hand on your mouth, grinning so wide that it could break your face in half. Keqing’s surprised expression as she eats and Ningguang’s stoic expression are barely processed as you keep laughing.

It’s all so funny.

It’s all so fucking absurd.

You weren’t even greatly physically impacted by the lies. It was more like drops of water into a bucket for you.

But that bucket was already on the verge of overflowing and there was no hole for you to drain the water.

The fact that Ningguang needed to lie and make such stupid leaps of logic to libel you just so that the aftermath of your death wasn’t a hassle was simultaneously hilarious and pitiful. Adding in the extra benefit of it forcing you into a corner where no one would be willing to help you was just that to her.

An extra benefit.

Maybe normal people would fall for the lies and not want to associate with you, but people of higher status would know better. They could tell when someone is being purposefully lied about. It was like an invisible mark on you, telling everyone that trying to help you was making an enemy of Ningguang.

That would explain why Xingqiu and Chongyun were suddenly pulled away by their families. All to corner you to being forced to meet Ningguang, forced to accept whatever accusation she wants to slap on you.

“You really are a piece of shit.” You said with a grin once your laughing slowed to a stop.

Ningguang really mustn’t have expected it as her face visibly contorted into shock and her pipe slipped from her fingers. It’s understandable.

Most people in your position would already be begging for mercy, but even those who had more pride and fight would just go on a tirade and rage. To any outsider, you were far too calm for your position.

Besides, who would ever dare disrespect the Tiantquian not only to her face but right in front of the Yuheng too?

“Since you finished saying your piece, I’ll begin saying mine too. It’s clear that you don’t want to see reason or the truth for what it is.” Standing up, you push your seat away as the guards suddenly come to attention. “Since you don’t want to admit that I’m the Oracle, why don’t we focus on Liyue as a whole?”

With hands behind your back, you casually walked around the table closer to Ningguang as she put her hand up to stop the guards. “Let’s start with the kidnapping case. Not only were the soldiers useless in almost every aspect, both within and outside the city, but they also can’t even distinguish petty problems from the serious ones.”

Stopping behind Ningguang you looked straight at the guards as you asked. “What’s more important? Chasing down rouge kidnappers or chasing a musician without a permit?” Both soldiers opened their mouth to answer, but Ningguang stopped them with a wave.

“This has nothing to do with the topic on hand. Stop avoiding your own faults and sins, Y/n.” She raised her cup to her lips as she looked at you with a turn of her head.

“Oh, but it does. It has everything to do with all the points you brought up.” Your hand snatched the cup from her opposite side as she glared indignantly at you. Keqings muffled laughter only made you grin wider as you returned to your seat. “This city has a lot of problems, but I am not one of them.”

“The fact that no one was willing to help me aside from Xingqiu and Chongyun, who both know me to be the Oracle, truly says a lot on how you and the Qixing run this city.” Sitting back down, you place the cup in the middle of the table, just out of her reach.

“So how could I not find it insulting that I, the only person to accept this commission, the driving force behind the operation, ended up the one taking the blame for it all. All for what exactly? To corner me when you didn’t even have proper reasoning to corner me in the first place?”

“We have every right to-”

“Shut the fuck up.” You snapped with a clearly disgusted face. Ningguang wasn’t as shocked this time and sneered right back at you. Honestly, you envied Keqing the most, who was pleasantly eating the golden shrimp balls while watching you both.

“You heard multiple varying information about me and continuously chose to listen to the ones that painted me in the worst light possible. Yet instead of conducting your own investigation, instead of relying on chance encounters, you sent out Yelan to deal with me, basically leaving her to deal her own judgement on me.” Throwing your hands up in the air, you nearly yell at Ningguang. “Who the hell fed only the bad information on me! Did you even tell her about how Beidou vouched for me? Or about how Beisht listened to me?”

“Yelan has all the skills, qualifications, and experience necessary to do a thorough investigation and choose an accurate judgement. You’re free to take it up with her if you want to continue pleading your case.”

This wasn’t going anywhere. It was like talking to a brick wall. A very judgmental and snarky brick wall.

It seems you’ll have to resort to it after all.

“Yet out of all the crimes you could possibly pin me with, it’s the one on the case that I solely took on that you chose? Is it because you knew that no one in this damned city would give a shit about them? Because you knew that while no one wanted to take on the responsibility of acknowledging and helping the homeless, everyone would be more than happy to blame someone tangible for it?”

Ningguang faltered at that, it was brief but present.

“Or do you really hate your origins to that extent? Do you loathe the homeless that you once stood beside?”

Thunder roared outside as your words were spoken. The look on her face veered off the edge of hatred and into murder. The metaphorical slap your words provided weren’t to be taken lightly after all.

Perfect straight teeth dug into her lips as her nails dug into her hands, uncaring for how the blood stained her black gloves till even her gold pieces shined with it.

What a delight to behold.

“How dare you bring up this topic-”

If you can’t reach her level of perfection.

“Spreading this level of nonsense, just how-”

Her level of composure.

“Do you feel no shame-”

“Do you not feel any shame? I’m not the one who left and never looked back.”

Then you’d simply need to drag her down to yours.

“I have done no such thing!” The table shakes when Ningguang slams her hands down on it, making Keqing quickly lift her plate off as the more precarious plates fell off and shattered.

Grinning, you point and laugh at her, blatantly mocking her as she flushes with embarrassment.

“You really are shameless, aren’t you? Floating around in your mobile home like a constant beacon of wealth and success. How do you think people feel when they see you up there? Do you think they look on with awe and envy?”

Standing up too, you rest your hands on the table to lean closer. “Or are you aware how all they can see is a symbol of the selfishness and a reminder of how mora can change a person?”

“It bothers you that no one even acknowledged how much of it sacrifice it was to you to give up the first Jade Chamber. Let alone be willing to do it again with its successor.”

Ningguang’s shaky breath before she sits back down as you mirror her actions is as satisfying as you imagined it. Especially when she no longer focuses on the main topic to instead defend herself. “I’m not and will never be ashamed of my beginnings. I have always kept the past in my mind and actions.”

“Then why did it take an outsider like me to accept the commission to save a girl to save a whole group of homeless kids that we were what? Not missing? Not important enough for the Millelith to get involved in?”

“Should I even mention the underbelly of the docks? Where all the shady deals, vagrant and poverty-stricken people live?” Clapping slowly, you finish with a sarcastic tone. “I have to hand it to you, you really know how to hide them from the public.”

If you were completely honest, you knew Ningguang wasn’t that bad of a person. She was the epitome of a capitalist, and it wasn’t her responsibility to care for every homeless person in Liyue Harbor.

Some people really did put themselves in their situations after all.

“There's nothing I can do for those who do not wish to be saved. Even if they aren't accepting of my help, I still do my part as the Tianquan to keep Liyue running for those who do want to accept my help.”

Food sitting forgotten on the table and Keqing discreetly ordering another plate of golden shrimp balls, not a soul dared to intervene in the growing argument between you and Ningguang.

“So by fixing the problem on the surface, your job is done? The ones who actually need help and want to better their lives are shoved in a corner to rot with the actual bad apples for the next Tianquian to deal with?”

“Twisting my words and shoving even more in my mouth to ‘win’ this argument isn’t the best idea.”

“Don’t get so offended Ningguang, all leaders are like you. Some even worse.” A few political figures from Earth flash in your mind as you speak. Sighing, you refocus back to Teyvat, knowing that your words would be too confusing if you tried to use anyone from Earth.

“Take the glorious Raiden Shogun or whatever other titles she uses.” Sarcasm coated your words as you spoke with a drawl. “Vagrants, the Nobushi and Kairagi are suffering from addictions, diseases and more without aid. Once well respected samurai that fell for one reason or another are left to suffer and commit crimes. Dying by their diseases, stealing from the poor and worse crimes are committed with the only outcomes being to die by the hands of defenders or by Tenryou soldiers.”

In your eyes, Inazuma was a mess. So many people died on the islands separate from Narukami Island. The vagrants were a constant and growing threat, most of the actual problems were solved by the traveler, yet the shogun picked a needless war that resulted in nothing but pain.

Just how did this conversation derail from being about you being the oracle to this? It was tiring and at this point you nearly wanted to give in and just leave.

“Are you saying that you find Liyue better simply due to how it treats its people?” Ningguang asked, the slight smile on her face made you suspicious.

“Liyue isn’t better. Liyue is a standard, and Inazuma is just failing horribly in comparison. But who knows? Maybe in a few decades, it can compare to Sumeru who only recently got their God.”

“So what of the people in Inazuma? Are the Tri-Commision as bad as the Shogunate?”

“Despite the obvious bribery in both the Tenryou and Kanjou Comission, they do, do their damn job, The Yashiro Comission even goes above and beyond in comparison. They’re the reason Inazuma hasn’t lost its entire population.”

“So if you’re really the Oracle then how do you plan to help them?” Ningguang asks it in an analytical tone. As if she plans on judging your ‘plans’ when she’s the fucking Tianqiuan.

“I don’t need to make any plans. I don’t have a position in Teyvat.” The retort comes with a little bite to your tone.

“You seem so certain that you’re the Oracle that I wanted to hear what your plans were for having that position.”

Did she believe that you made up this position for your own benefit? Well yes, yes you did, but certainly not for the financial benefit she seems to be imagining. “Let me straighten something out for you, Ningguang, Cause for as high and mighty you believe yourself to be, you don’t know everything. I’m not the traveler. My job isn’t to bend over backwards to do your job, it’s to prophecy about matters concerning the Creator. If the Creator told me about Liyue’s destruction and ordered me to stay silent, I would happily do so and watch every citizen drown without batting an eye, understand?”

Whatever reaction you were expecting didn’t happen as Ningguang began to laugh. But it wasn’t the mocking or condescending laughter she had before. Instead, she seemed truly amazed or even relieved.

“I understand now. I can now accept you as the Oracle by my own judgment, too.”

The confusion and slight perturbation at her words must have been on your face as she slowed her laughter to a mere chuckle.

“I apologize for what I’m about to tell you. You remember the dream I had concerning Rex Lapis? Well, I may have twisted his words for my own cause.”

You were fucking right, but you couldn’t even enjoy it, since it took you nearly an hour to get to this point in the conversation.

“If you weren’t the Tianquin, you would be in some serious legal trouble Ningguang. I can name at least 3 different laws you almost broke.” Keqing surprisingly spoke up at this moment. Honestly, you had forgotten about her, not that she seemed to mind.

“You can scold Ningguang after she enlightens me to what his true message was. How much mora should I bet that he was confirming me as the oracle?” Ignoring the snark, Ningguang clears her throat before snapping her fingers and motioning to the dirty plates on the table. The workers took the plates away before she dramatically rested her elbows on the now cleared table.

“Not every bewitching novelty is meant to cause harm, some lead to everlasting contracts.”

Maybe you should still punch Zhongli, what kind of help was that supposed to be?! Couldn’t he be direct rather than poetic?!

“That message was vague but clear enough for me to link it to you. Thus, I decided to invite you here to see if you really did deserve the title of Oracle and whether we could trust you or not.”

What a load of bullshit-

“I agree with Ningguang on this. While many things seemed suspicious concerning you, this conversation was helpful for us to see your real motives and future actions.”

And of course Keqing had to agree with the smirking vixen, making you calmly nod in response. This whole dinner felt like a haze to you at least point.

Not only did you have to prove that being an Oracle was real, attack Ningguang on several personal points and proceed with many, many leaps in logic. Just to find out, that she fucking knew the truth all along!

You weren’t even going to get compensation for all the troubles she caused, either.

It was clear to you why no one wanted to mess with Ningguang outside the usual bankruptcy. She was too annoying and petty as hell for anyone to want to deal with.

“I recognize that I did you a disservice by having Yelan investigate you before this dinner. For that, I do apologize and even have an offer for you.”

If it wasn’t money or connections, you didn’t want it.

“I’ll provide you with monetary compensation as long as you give a detailed speech and answer questions about the Creator’s return in my ‘mobile home’ as you called it.”

“If you didn’t know or remember, my presence and journey here is supposed to be discreet-”

“How does 5 million mora sound to start?”

… Maybe Ningguang wasn’t that bad after all.

“When do I have to give this speech? If it’s just the members of the Qixing, I’ll do it, but not publicly.”

Distantly you can hear Keqing sigh as Ningguang smiled pleasantly at you but you couldn’t hear it over the imaginary clinking of mora coming into your bag.

Money is what forced you to accept Ningguang’s offer for dinner. Much like on Earth, money is power.

It's done, it's finished and I'm even more tired then before. My last chapter was when my semester was ending and my new chapter is just as my semester is going to start. Please blame my job, my bills and Sandrock for the reason behind why this one took so long. I've been writing small things, mostly on Wattpad since it's just easy, but I feel like my writing style is constantly changing. Or it's just me again. But whatever the case, I've just been doing that to not get too rusty. Ningguang is hard to write for, mostly in relation to the reader rather then with other people. Not sure why, it just feels that way. It was a struggle to end the conversation with her but ultimately it works. Ningguang is just too canonically powerful to not have the upper hand in every way. Even still this chapter was also hard to write because I had to use so much thinking and planning to keep things consistent not only to the game but also to the other chapters. My au isn't one of extreme violence so I'm aware that it's harder to become engaged or see how threatening this version of Teyvat is. Quick update before I post, I either will answer everything or nothing as my youngest cat might need to go into surgery soon. The little vacuum ate metal while I was at work and the vet already said that if he does get surgery he might not make it.

Taglists is open as always and hopefully won't be struck down by Tumblr! [Tumblr made some changes to the tagging system so I'm not sure if it's working like before. If your name is there and not in italics yet you weren't tagged then let me know.]

@vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @liansh3ng, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @shellofthewell, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zenith, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername

@zhonglisfruityass, @mer0n37, @victoria1676, @mochinessss, @sinnful-darling, @emilymikado, @pix-stuff, @esthelily, @luxie963, @emmbny, @starsofabundance, @kbar1013, @xxblackroses623xx, @chxrlxtteee, @aludicpoet, @yandematic, @atrcclovsxoxo, @0lshadyl0, @esthelily, @t-rex-red, @ck123, @steadybreadbluebird, @118gremlin, @stratonia, @time-shardz, @farelady-fate, @valeriele3, @francisnyx, @byakuren100, @waveto-earth, @flyingpansaurus, @silverstarred, @iamapotatoe, @ghosthii, @beloveddroplet, @uchihaeirin, @ibelieveinsleep, @idk098, @thefirstonetoeverlikemeback, @toramune, @haaaaaades, @horologiumwise, @melovaaaa, @alittletiredcry, @aphxdea, @atsukawolfcat, @desirabletravel, @pinkpainc, @eccedentesiast-sapphic, @yuyuzi-ling, @hyperfixationwhore

@juuuuuj101010, @avalordream, @kurayamioterasu, @tottybear, @koiikuno, @lynx-of-skies, @quacking-simp, @synthe4u, @kascar-chronicle, @hug4helios, @hug4helios, @silverstarred, @koiikuno, @ithoughtthinks, @remiivx, @lemonade7255, @melpomenelurks, @average-yandere-enjoyer, @mnhao, @fuji-sen, @altumsomnum, @hehothrowawayfae, @unofficialabortive, @magnum0pus2231, @xxnessinessiellexx, @multiliker, @intpessimistic, @kitsunelivesyet, @extremelytoastybread, @mercy-not-merci, @silvermoon617, @evaline-ethan, @fallintothechasm, @imgonnaeatthatglitter, @bunniotomia, @3noa3, @astro-stars, @beary-kalkus, @yourfavepookiebear, @original-person, @alexx197197

483 notes · View notes

rebeliz7 · 7 months ago

Text

Ride

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Request: 28, 37 & 64 with Wan? R is in love with Wanda but Wanda is between R and Vision and every time R tries to talk to her about it Wanda just gives excuses and R feels like Wanda just like her for the sex but Wan realizes she's in love too.

Word Count: 2815

28. “I don’t want to hear your excuses anymore.”

37. “You’re n-not ,um, w-wearing anything under that, are you..?”

…

Vision is - a good guy. He’s the kind of guy that any woman could date and be certain that he’d never hurt them. He’s reliable and polite, and nice to talk to. He’s a good friend, and even a better partner to have in the field.

He’s been in love with Wanda for the entirety of his existence. You don’t think he even knew what love was when he fell for her, and still.

They make a good looking couple, and Wanda seems to fit in his arms. Especially when they’re dancing like they’re currently doing.

There’s a part of you that wants to desperately go over there and ask him to remove his hands from Wanda’s waist, but she’s not your girlfriend and you’re not generally a jealous person.

Still, jealousy beats underneath your skin and you don’t like it. You don’t like it at all.

Before Wanda, and before you got tangled in this situation, you used to despise jealous people and the feeling as a whole. You didn’t quite understand it either, and you often thought that jealousy was just a response to insecurity.

There is no room for insecurities with Wanda, you know exactly where you’re standing with her. You two are not in a relationship, and you hate to feel possessive of her but you also can’t help it. Just looking at Vision touching her, as innocent as he does now -as he always does-, is enough to drive you mad.

You turn in your seat, trying to spare yourself from the visuals any longer.

Usually you’d be enjoying a night like tonight. You like to dress up, put on some make up, do you hair and pick a nice outfit to wear. You should be mingling, trying to befriend whatever new person Tony is trying to impress, because that’s what these little parties serve for after all.

Tonight you sit by the bar by yourself, nursing a drink and although dressed to the nines, you don’t feel like talking to anyone.

“Can I get some water?” You haven’t even noticed the music changing, even less so Wanda approaching the bar.

She looks radiant, of course. Her cheeks are flushed the slightest bit, you guess from all that dancing, and she’s smiling widely when she meets your eyes and you’re pulled into her orb immediately.

“Hi.” You smile and her smile twists into something else, something more meaningful and private.

“Hi.” She husks out, her voice dropping lower as she walks closer to you and takes the glass of whiskey from your hands to take a drink, her eyes never leaving yours.

“Thirsty?” You ask as she gently gives the glass back and takes a discrete step backwards.

She very openly checks you out, her eyes traveling from your face and taking every inch of you where you sit before she meets your stare again. You don’t shy away from her, but you do have - other reactions.

“Very.” She nods with a sly grin that does inexplicable things to you.

You breathe in deeply, perhaps in a weak attempt to get a grip of yourself, and you take the opportunity to really look at her too.

She’s wearing a casual loose black mini dress that looks ridiculously good on her, and that does nothing to conceal the curves you know are under it. Her high heels make her legs look longer than usual, and her hair is down in soft meticulous waves that mixed with that smile, give her an angelic yet sensual appearance altogether.

“You look amazing.” You smile when you meet her eyes, and she raises an eyebrow in amusement.

“I feel like you’re talking to my legs.” She says with humor, and you become incredibly desperate to kiss that smile off her lips.

“Well, obviously.” You reach out as she laughs and you take her hand to pull her closer to you. She wraps one arm around your shoulders and even kisses your cheek, all normal things that can be taken as two friends interacting and nothing more.

“You look really hot with this.” She whispers, close to your ear, and her hand running down the front of your blazer.

You swallow with difficulty as she steps backwards again, this time to take the water the waiter has finally brought her.

She drinks her water and you become entranced with the movement of her throat, and the way her lips stay wet after she puts the glass down.

Your stomach begins to ache when you can’t control the desire you feel for her, and all that ache slowly travels southwards and you don’t think you can wait another minute to have her.

“Come on.” You take her hand and you don’t wait to hear an answer, although she’s laughing as she practically jogs behind you to keep up as you pull her out of the suite and towards the elevators.

The moment the doors of the elevator slide closed you’re kissing her. She’s about to tell you something when you do, and you catch her open mouth in a delicious and drowning kiss.

She moans softly as she wraps her arms around your shoulders, and you push her against the metal wall.

You kiss her fully, your hands on her waist as the taste of her cherry lip gloss invades your senses. Even more so when you let your hands travel further down her body and you don’t feel any other fabric under her dress.

“You’re n-not ,um, w-wearing anything under this, are you..?” You ask against her lips, your throat now dry while you think about her walking and dancing all night long like this.

“Why don’t you find out.” She husks, her lips gracing yours as she speaks and you feel your knees go weak.

You swallow with difficulty as your brain short circuits. Your stomach is tied in knots and you’re pretty sure that you’ve never felt as turned on as you feel right now.

“We need to get to my room.” You tell her with urgency, and she smiles provocatively.

“You’re taking me to bed?” She asks with an innocent smile that doesn’t fool you at all.

“Who said anything about a bed?” You retort as you run your hands down her legs, scratching her skin lightly as she combs your hair back with her fingers and you kiss her again.

You kiss her until the doors slide open, and she’s pushing you lightly with a beautiful smile on her raw kissed lips.

…

You remove her dress as soon as your bedroom door falls shut behind you, and she laughs at your impatience. You, on the other hand, are not laughing at all because she hasn’t been wearing a thing beneath that dress and the realization makes your skin prickle.

“You’re such a bad girl.” You tell her as you guide her towards your bed.

“Only because I know you love it.” She teases you, licking your lips and your jaw before she steps backwards and lays on your bed willingly. “Well? Are you gonna make me beg?”

You stare at her and you can’t believe her audacity. A few minutes ago she was dancing with a man who she knows is in love with her, and now she’s here, wet and ready for you to do whatever you want with her.

You don’t make her beg. You could never. No, you live to give her whatever she wants. You yearn to make her cum as many times as she can resist.

Your face between her legs and your lips wrapped around her clit, you have the pleasure of making her cum and hearing her moan your name, over and over again.

While she catches her breath you get rid of your clothes, and then you immediately lay on top of her, wanting to feel her body against yours and desperate for a little release yourself.

“Baby.” She whispers against your ear as she wraps you in her arms, and accommodates your thigh between her legs while pushing hers against your wet heat. “You’re so wet. I love it.”

Her easy laughter makes your chest flutter, and you kiss her cheek as you try to find a rhythm with your hips.

“Of course you do.” You smile and she gasps when you push your hips particularly hard.

“I want to taste you.” She rolls on top of you, and kisses you needly before she kisses down your body wantonly.

She doesn’t make you beg either, and the visual of her between your thighs, eyes locked with yours as she eats you out without holding back in the slightest, is enough to push you towards the edge.

You’re laughing when you come back to your senses, and she’s already peppering your face with sweet kisses and a wide grin on her lips.

“Wanna put on the strap for me?” She asks mischievously, biting her bottom lip as she waits for an answer.

“What are you thinking?” You ask as you roll the two of you in bed again. Your lips kissing her cheeks, her jaw, her lips.

“I’m thinking - ” she cups your face, a devilish smile on her lips. “You look really well under me and I really want to ride you.”

You swallow thickly, and the next second you’re promptly getting the strap.

The process of getting it on catches you both in a fit of laughter, but is comfortable and familiar, and you’re caught thinking that you’ve never had this feeling of belonging with anyone before.

“Lay down and do nothing.” She instructs you when you’re ready, and you swiftly follow her orders.

You watch her take the toy in her hands as she sits on her heels beside you, that smile never leaving her lips as she strokes the fake dick and sends shots of pleasure directly to your clit each time she moves.

“You want me to suck you?” She asks and you laugh as she moves to sit on your thighs, her hands never stilling.

“I kinda do.” You nod and she leans forward to plant a sweet kiss on your lips before she crawls down the bed.

To say that watching her give you a blowjob is the most bizarre thing you’ve ever seen, would be a poor understatement. Not that you don’t use the strap often, you do, whenever you feel like it. But she’s never offered to suck you before, and you think you might have been missing out.

There’s something about her and her lips as she bobs her head up and down, her eyes never leaving yours as she struggles to breathe and stubbornly wanting to take the whole thing in her mouth at once.

But there’s a moment when she comes out for air and she looks at you, and you think you can’t wait another second before you’re inside of her, and she seems to have the same thought.

Grabbing her hand you pull her up and kiss her messily, and almost desperately. She moves to straddle you and you both work on lining the toy with her entrance before she sinks down on it with a heavy sigh and trembling body.

For a few seconds she just sits there, and you try to stay still. Her head is thrown back, her hands squeezing your thighs behind her as she swallows and breathes in and out.

You watch her and you know you want her. You want her for good, for yourself and you need to tell her that.

When she finally moves her hips and her eyes meet yours again, you know you love her and you think she might love you too.

She wasn’t kidding when she said she wanted to ride you. She does that enthusiastically for a little while, and when you grab her and roll on top of her, she moans out your name in the most delightful way.

Her nails are digging on your back as you thrust your hips and fuck her against your mattress as hard as you possible can.

And when she cums, a tidal wave of pleasure showers you as well, and you cum along with her.

“I want you.” You tell her as you look up, the toy still buried in her.

“Again?” She asks breathlessly and amusedly.

“I want you, Wanda. I want to be with you, and I want to be the only person in your life.” You tell her and her smile drops.

“Let’s not do this tonight, please.” She seems to beg, her hands on your face now, trying to placate you like she’s done many times before.

“I love you, and I want more than this. I deserve more than this.”

She looks away, still trying to catch her breath and pushes you off of her to be able to get out of bed.

For a moment all you can feel is rejection, but you take a deep breath as she hurries to grab her dress from the floor and you get up too.

You throw the damn strap away and you pick up a long shirt and put it on, if only to maintain some sort of dignity in the upcoming exchange.

“Don’t you dare to leave like this.” You tell her when you see her grabbing her heels and heading for the door.

“What do you want me to say?” She asks you and you walk closer to her. Her hair is a mess, her makeup is smudged and if she walks out right now you have no doubt that anyone who sees her will know what she was just doing.

“Anything.” You shrug and you see tears gathering in her eyes. “But you can’t just walk away after I told you I love you for the very first time.”

“I really don’t want to ruin this.” She tells you, and her words confuse you.

“How would you ruin this?”

“I always ruin what I love.” She says and you take her hands, letting her heels fall on the ground.

There it is.

“That won’t happen with us.” You assure her gently. “You’re my favorite person, and I love you.”

She chuckles when you say that and you go back to feel light, in a way.

“And I want to be with you. For real this time. Don’t get me wrong, I love the sex. We’re very good at having it, but I want more and something tells me that you do too.”

She doesn’t say anything for a beat, and that’s how you know you’ve hit a point.

“We will fight.” She argues weakly, and you peck her lips. “We will yell.”

“And then we’ll have make up sex. That’s like, the best sex out there.” You counter, and she laughs. “You love me?”

“I do.” She nods, her voice soft and honest. She kisses you this time and even presses herself closer to you, so much so that you can feel her heart beating against your own chest.

“Then no more excuses. We can do this.” You smile and kiss her again. She smiles, her hands on your face as she nods.

“I’ll have to talk to Vision.” She realizes and you kiss her again.

“So that’s that?” You ask with a smile. “We’re together now?”

“We are.” She nods and you pick her up and twirl her twice. You’re both laughing when her feet touch the ground again, and things seem to fall back into place. You’re you again.

“Let him down gently.” You suggest and she takes a deep breath before taking off her dress one more time, and heading straight to your closet and then your bed.

She’s familiar with your room, she knows where everything is, and she’s stopped asking to borrow your clothes a while ago. You watch her put on some shorts before she looks at you again.

“I will. He’s such a nice guy.” She says as she throws your comforter to the ground, and you take a clean one from the closet.

“He really is.” You agree, as you both get under the new comforter.

“Are we bad people?”

“Maybe.”

You’ll think about that in the morning, right now you want nothing more than to cuddle your new girlfriend and have a good night’s sleep.

…

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff

798 notes · View notes

imaginesmai · 10 months ago

Text

The orange peel theory - Azriel

I saw this post by @marvelsmylife and I thought I would give it a try! I've seen also lots of couples doing this on TikTok, so here's my take on how Azriel would do it. Hope you like it!

Plot: the spring court is beautiful, oranges are beautiful, but there's nothing more beautiful than your mate.

You loved the Spring court, you really did. Unlike Cassian, who couldn’t even get out of his room without sneezing the life out of his body, you spent your time there walking through the beautiful gardens. No matter how terrible Tamlin was, how much you despised the meetings between courts – you loved the Spring court.

All your friends and family were busy that morning, most of them in said meeting. Rhys and Feyre had been the first ones to arrive, Cassian and Azriel following close. You had woken up to an empty bed and cold sheets, your mate’s training not keeping up with your late nights reading. Still, Azriel had left you a short note and a beautiful flower.

You would have spent the morning with Nesta, but she was busy with Elain preparing the last details of her wedding with Lucien. Mor and Amren had chosen to stay in Velaris, and that left you alone in those beautiful gardens.

Time flew by each time you stopped to look at a flower or insect, as you let your body soak the warm sun through the trees. You wouldn’t have noticed the morning rolling away if it wasn’t for your stomach rumbling angrily at you. Deciding leaving the gardens was too much of an effort, you looked around for something to eat.

The meeting would end soon, but you would remain for two days more. There were enough matters to discuss that the high lords needed more than one meeting. As soon as Azriel was free, he would come looking for you – and you didn’t want to waste any time eating when you could explore the beautiful court.

So, when you spotted the orange tree, you made your decision.

It was big enough that you had to step on a bench to grab the closest orange. Once you did, you couldn’t resist grabbing some more. Big and colorful, your mouth watered just at the sight. You ended up on your tiptoes, barely keeping balance, gathering the oranges between your chest and arm.

One of them rolled out of your grasp, but before it fell, shadows gathered around it and brought it back to the group. You smiled instantly, stretching slightly to take the last orange. You felt your body gravitating forward as the tips of your fingers barely grazed it, and just before you could fall over, warm hands rounded your waist.

You were lifted the missing inch and stabilized at the same time, shadows keeping your legs upright. After taking the orange, you barely had time to look at it before you were lowered to the ground, back meeting his hard chest.

“Aren’t you a little shabby for a thief?” Azriel whispered against your ear, holding you close. “Risking your life for a bunch of oranges?”

“Oh, like you would have left me fall” you rolled your eyes, resisting the urge of squirming away when his lips brushed your cheek.

“I could have been away”

“Still”

You turned around, your arms full of oranges, and met his hazel eyes. Azriel could have been miles away, in a different country, that you were sure his shadows would have found a way of keeping you from hurt, just as they always did. You knew it, he knew it, and there was no real concern under his words, just playful banter.

Politics, territorial business and high lords were hard for him, and you could guess the outcome of the meeting in the darkness under his eyes. Still, when you looked at him, they shone a little brighter, his lips curling upwards.

His wings blocked the sun from behind, but some rays peeked through and made him look even more divine than he already was. Only a few hours away, and you already missed him.

His arms circled your waist and he lowered himself until he could kiss you softly, erasing the memories of the previous meeting. He tasted like home, like safety, and you were ready to drop your treats and wrap yourself around your mate.

Barely two seconds into the kiss, it was broken by the loud sound of your stomach reclaiming you back to your previous task. Azriel tore away with raised eyebrows, and burst into a loud laugh at your rosy cheeks.

“It’s past lunch time, don’t judge me” you looked down to your arms. “Want an orange?”

“I would love nothing more than a stolen orange”

You didn’t need words when you were with him, not as you sat on the bench you had climbed on and Azriel took the oranges from your grasp. His dark leathers were a rough contrast with your soft dress, the scars on his hands contrary to your careful touch. He didn’t flinch like he used to when you wrapped your fingers around his, only smiled softly and pressed a kiss to the back of your hand.

There was no other place you would rather be but on that bench with him, the sun and shadows creating a beautiful landscape full of flowers and colors.

Azriel took the last orange from you and easily peeled its roughness away. His nails were chipped and broken, but he managed to get the whole thing off and hand it to you in small pieces. You gladly let him put the first one in your mouth, happy with not moving a muscle away from him.

“I can do that” you raised a brow as you bit on the juicy fruit.

“And I can do it for you” he bit on the next piece, eyes dropping to your mouth.

You tried grabbing the rest of the orange from him, but he easily brushed you away. It was common for him to do that type of stuff – peeling an orange for you so your hands wouldn’t get dirty, doing your hair in the morning when you were too tired, putting food on your plate before his own.

Those little things had built a comfortable relationship during your years together. You cleaned the blood off his leather when he came back from a mission and he brought you flowers each Sunday. He folded your clothes in a neat pile to you after your bath and you helped him tie his boots when he was sore from training.

The birds chirped around you as he kept peeling oranges, handing you some pieces and eating the rest of them. You watched as he carefully removed the white striped that you always complained about, checking each piece before giving it to you.

“How was the meeting?” you tried eventually, breaking the peaceful silence.

“It was” he shrugged, plucking the last part of the peel before dividing the orange. “Tamlin growled at everything and everyone. Kallias stepped out in the middle of it. Beron and Eris”

“What of Beron and Eris?”

“They were… them”

You knew without words that Beron and Eris had been the worst part of it. Maybe, if it wasn’t for them, Azriel would enjoy the politics of those meetings. He would stand in that room with his wings wide and head high. But they always managed to find something to bring him down, to make him feel less than them. And you would have gladly punched them into the knowing they wouldn’t even get close to the man Azriel was.

Azriel didn’t elaborate the answer for a while, both of you eating quietly. Once he had peeled the fourth orange and you had refused the last part, he started plucking the crumbs from under his nails.

You hoisted your legs up to his own, and made yourself comfortable on his lap. The reaction of having your body close was instant, his muscles going lax and his shoulders dropping.

“Rhys thinks Eris will stick to his part of, you know” Azriel talked softly, as if his shadows wouldn’t inform him of any presence within twenty feet. “But when he’s with his father, with that… smile and attitude, I wish he wouldn’t. I just wish it was different”

“I know” you agreed, pressing your stained lips to his cheeks. “It will be soon”

He turned to look at you and you smiled as brightly and convincingly as you could. Working with Eris was worse than any type of meeting. Having him coming to Velaris, where your home was, and letting him know where the most precious part of him lived was hard enough. But watching him play his enemy in a room full of threats and knowing he knew those things was on a different level.

It broke your heart each time he came back from those meetings, each time his vulnerability became apparent and you could do nothing about it.

Just smile, stay by his side, and stick to the promise of not letting anything happen to any of you.

You tried changing the subject for his sake and yours, anything to make him smile again like a few minutes before. Brushing the sticky stain on his cheek, you mentioned something Nesta had talked about before.

“There is a theory, you know” you started, trying to bite the smile off your lips so he would take you seriously. “About males, and oranges, and peeling them”

“Likely a theory of one of your books” he teased, and when you didn’t confirm neither deny it, he chuckled. “Or Nesta’s. I don’t know which one is worse”

“The theory says, that if your partner peels oranges for you without asking or saying, they love and care about you” you repeated what Nesta had told you a few days ago. “Getting their hands dirty and not minding about it because they love their partners more”

“More than an orange’s peel?” Azriel smiled widely now. “After almost fifty years of relationship, I hope you too love me more than that”

“You’re missing the point”

“It’s a stupid theory”

It was because he did way more than peel oranges for you. And you did way more than change the subject to stupid theories so he would take his mind off the worries. If Azriel had to peel a thousand oranges for you, he would do it. If he was allergic to them, he would still do it.

There was little Azriel wouldn’t do for you. The basics of protecting you, of giving you his love and affection, were already set at the begging of your relationship. But as he thought of the stupid orange peel, he wondered if there was something he wouldn’t do for you.

And he knew that there wasn’t.

“Let me guess” he tugged your legs closer and looked into your eyes with a deep frown of concentration. “Nesta told you about it, just as he has told you about the rest of stupid theories you have put to test. And she has also told Elain and Feyre, and you all have put it to test”

“You’re missing Mor” you smiled, knowing he would make the whole story perfectly.

“Rhys passed, for sure. Lucien too, though he would probably be a little wary and ask about it before doing it, because Elain doesn’t eat too many oranges” he guessed correctly, making you scoff a laugh. “And Cassian asked Nesta to peel his orange”

You burst into a laugh because, just like he had said, had happened.

As you tilted your head back, a ray of sun hit the side of your face and Azriel’s heart started beating a little faster. He would never not find you beautiful, but sometimes, it would hit him just how beautiful you were. How lucky he was, how perfect his mate was. The cauldron had made him wait, had made him suffer, and all of it was worthy from the moment he laid his eyes on you.

“I love you” he smiled, Eris and Beron long gone from his mind. “Even if you’re a shaggy thief”

“I love you too”

Azriel closed his eyes and let the sun bake his skin. Having you in his arms always felt good, no matter where you were. Spring court, Velaris, your home. He could be lying in a battlefield with you in his arms, safe and sound, and it would feel like heaven.

The meeting had been shitty, and the two days left in that court would be too. But if enduring it and peeling oranges for you would get him that kind of peace, he was ready for it to last forever.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Let me know if you want me to do an Azriel taglist!

912 notes · View notes