#please see my vision and feel free to scream to me about it

[ruinix]

you think you'd be able to write smth with pillow prince! quinn x reader by any chance? Your luke one was so so good!

Hey there, lovely. I am so happy that you liked pillow prince Lukey (here). My braincells turned into a more angst route, but don't worry you will be swooping in to save the day.

Disclaimer: This fic is in no way telling that Q gets panic attacks. This is only fiction. If you experience panic attacks, there are many ways to manage them—grounding and breathing techniques and medication. You will be okay. You can skip over the Angst. There will be a blue page-break. Only if you want to...Do whatever that pleases you, lovelies.

Sidenote, new banner format unlocked...how do we feel about it? 🥺 (Canva is a lifesaver. Like always, pictures came from Pinterest. We thank Pinterest gods.)

18+. Whore thoughts. Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Severe Panic attack (Hyperventilation, verge of passing out). Self-doubts. Smut. Pillow prince!Quinn. Dom/Sub Dynamic: Subby Quinn. Unprotected sex. ⬇️

Quinn tried so hard.

As a captain, he needed to come up with strategies on ice. As a captain, he must lead his team to victories. As a captain, he must endure. His pain didn't matter. He needed to play through gritted teeth, swallowing groan as he pushed his muscles harder, keeping his face free from any signs of discomfort, any signs of weakness. He must be strong. He must be resilient. He must. He must.

Yet even the strongest soldiers break.

As soon as Quinn exited his car, his head was spinning. His axis tilted while he turned his front door open. He could barely locked the door as he sagged against the wall, his chest squeezing, the corners of his vision darkening and compressing closer and closer until he had no choice but to close his eyes, yet even the darkness closed in. Tighter. Squeezing him. Caging him.

Cold sweat beaded his skin. His hands trembled with the violent shivers running down his body. His heart pounded, slamming violently against the chest that felt like vise. He needed out, yet the only thing he could do was drop to the floor as he panted shallow breaths that did nothing for him. He couldn't breath, taking in a lot of air yet no oxygen reaches arteries. He gripped the front of his shirt, right over his chest. He covered his lips with his other hand.

He tried controlling his breath, tried forcing himself to breathe through nose, tried to exhale as long as he could. Yet he failed. Just like how he failed to get his team a win tonight.

He couldn't do this. No matter what he did, it didn't feel enough. If he couldn't even get his shit together, how could he lead the—

"Quinn!"

Your voice sounded faraway, muted, distorted, like he was underwater while you were screaming for him, but it managed to bring him up. He opened his eyes to see you rushing towards him with a paperbag. You held it securely over his mouth and nose, gripping him by his shoulders, pushing him against the wall using your hand that clasped his.

"Breathe, Q," you said. "Match my breaths."

Quinn tried, his tears falling when he couldn't. His vision turned more splotchy, tears falling down his cheeks. He was going to pass out.

"Breathe for me, Quintin," you ordered. Your voice deepened a tone as you push against his chest harder. "Breathe. For. Me."

Quinn focused. His whole being stood in attention to your words. For you, he would. One breath at a time.

Through dimmed vision, he looked on the rise and fall of your chest. When you inhaled, he inhaled. When you exhale, he did. Then you started telling him to focus.

You demanded five things he could see. His eyes, with blurry and tight vision, trailed.

Your diamond stud earrings. Your hoodie that was his. The hair clip that held all your hair. The flowers he had brought yesterday that was now on a vase. Your face, tight with worry.

He nodded. Now, you asked for four things he could touch. His hand moved.

The cold tiles of the hallway. The grout in between. The softness and firmness of your hand that gave him reassuring squeeze. The delicate skin of your cheek with wetness of your tear that fell as you blinked.

He nodded. You sought three things he could hear. His ears listened beyond his ragged breaths.

Your music blaring from the living room. Someone's dog barking through the night. Your voice as you muttered his name—firm and strong yet so afraid.

He dipped his chin. He's no longer suffocating but trapped. You urged for two things he could smell. He used his inhale beyond breathing.

The lingering smell of what you've cooked. Your soft, sweet, florally perfume.

He held your cheek. His hand was not as shaky. His heart was not beating in pain. He leaned forward, his tears rolling down his cheeks. One look from him and you knew what he needed. Still, you asked for what he could taste, before you crossed the space and pressed your lips against his.

You with the taste of caramel and fruits and mint.

A whimper escaped him as he turned desperate when you deepened the kiss your tongue moving with his, encouraging him our of the darkest corners of his mind. You've brought him out of the confines of his mind, grounding him to reality that he wasn't alone.

After a few more seconds, you gave him one final peck. You rested your forehead against his, your hands on his cheeks, fingers grazing his jaw. You settled on his lap. He could feel you shaking—not as much as he did, but you are.

But before his guilt pooled in his chest, you muttered, loud and clear, "Oh, Quinn, my sweet boy. I got you. I got all of you."

He sobbed, his tongue finally working, no longer feeling like lead in his mouth. He told you about everything. Every fucking weight settling on his fucking shoulders. Every loss that piled and cut him down. His disappointment that fester because the playoffs felt so fucking faraway. He ranted and ranted.

You listened. Your hands moved, smoothening over his chest, his shoulders, his collarbones, his cheeks. Not once did you look at Quinn like you were tired of him. You knew he needed you so you provided your touch, your comfort, your presence. He knew you understood him. He knew because you knew him more than he did. You were always his pillar. So strong as you held every piece of him while he broke into pieces. So kind as you held him firmly, waiting for him to gather up those pieces, letting him feel your weight on his lap, on his chest more than the pressure on his shoulders.

"Let it out, Q." You started humming a tune that eased his soul. "You did what you can. It's enough. You're enough, Quinn."

Before you, if someone were to tell him that, he would scoff and would beat himself further down. Being in the NHL, those words sometimes felt untrue.

Now, with you, he greedily take it in. He desperately needed to hear it.

You knew that, so you repeated those words every time he crashed down, every time he get swallowed by panic attacks as soon as he reached his home.

The only place he could be vulnerable. The only place he could just be Quinn.

Not the Canucks captain.

Not anyone.

Just Quinn.

Minutes turning into an hour. You both would stay in the entry way until his tremors stopped, until he finished crying, until all that was left was Quinn, all pieced together, all comfortable with your hands rub his back.

"Feeling better?" You asked, pressing a kiss on his neck, right on his pulse. When he nodded, you grinned at him, pride shining in your eyes. "That's my good boy."

Shiver ran down his spine. The praise has engrained itself to his needs. He could barely say anything—too exhausted—standing up because you told him to, trailing after you then sitting down on the sofa because you told him to.

He followed everything you ordered. He feel secure and content when he does so.. It felt natural. It felt good. In this home, he didn't need to put up a front. He didn't need to exhaust himself by staying in control. He only needed—wanted and yearned—to let go because he was in good hands. Your hands. You were safe. The safest in this world.

He watched you scooped soup into bowls. He wasn't blind not to see the meal you had prepared—now in containers—that should be for dinner, but you knew he never liked eating after a panic attack. You quickly put it in the fridge before you came over with the bowls. For him and you.

"Eat," you said with a smile.

The hair on his body stood. His heart was, again, pounding in his chest. Fluttering in satisfaction, instead of thundering in pain. He loved your commands. Casual. Simple. Ever since the beginning of your relationship, you were in control. Not in a controlling way, no. More in a caring and loving way. Affectionate. It made him all mushy and pliant to your wishes. Quinn yearned your control over him. So he followed. No questions. No complaints.

You started talking about your day, further removing Quinn from any more lingering thoughts of everything that weighed him down. You told him about the parcels you had to unbox, happily telling Quinn that you washed the hoodie he had requested. The more you talk, the more his lips stretched into a smile, his gaze softening, his soup emptying.

At some point, after you took your bowls, after you take of your hoodie, Quinn's eyes wandered down to your chest, to your pebbled nipples, under your thin and cropped camisole. Then down to your exposed lower abdomen as your sweatpants—his—slid an inch as you settled beside him, your arm linking with his. Despite the exhaustion, his cock stirred.

He couldn't focus on the movie you started, not when you were so close, not when he realized you weren't wearing anything under those pants, not when you leg came up, wrapping around his, fully cuddling him. He couldn't listen or see beyond you. It got harder when you settled further, your thigh grazing his fucking hard-on as you slide it upwards.

"My love," he rasped, his hands turning into fists.

You smirked, eyes travelling to meet his. You moved your thigh, letting him to feel the friction, his blood thrumming through his veins. You teased, "Does my sweet boy need something?"

"Please," he begged, needing to touch you but he knew he couldn't. Not yet. Not without your permission.

He whined when you got off him. He hated the few seconds you weren't touching, but he sighed as your hands glide over his thighs, undoing his pants, unzipping him, tugging the waistband of his boxers. His cock sprung up. So hard that he was fucking dripping with pre-cum.

"You're so hard, Q. Look at you getting yourself wet." You grinned, your eyes tracking the bead sliding down and down, licking your beautiful lips. "Oh, so messy, Q. What will I do to you?"

Quinn cursed, gritting his teeth as you lazily jerked him. He panted, lifting his hips when you moved to remove his pants.

"Such a good boy," you praised, leaning over. Your tongue glided from his base to his tip, licking away the mess he was creating on himself. "Mmhmm, you're so divine, Quinn."

"Fuck!" He could only curse, stripping his shirt, hiding his face behind his arm as he weakly jutted his hips. "Oh, please, my Love." When you licked his sensitive slit—kissing, sucking, and spitting on it—his eyes rolled up just from the sensation, from the pleasure zapping though his whole body. "Don't wanna come so quickly. Can't."

"You can, Quinn. You can." You encouraged as you jerked him harder, using both your spit and his pre-cum. "I'll take care of you, Quinn. You can let go. I have you."

He shook his head, whimpering, whining, sobbing. He didn't know how to say it. He didn't want to come in your mouth even if it felt fucking amazing. No. He wanted—

"My sweet boy forgot his words," you hummed, standing up while your hand still jerked up and down his length. Just one push on your pants, it fell off. You mounted his lap, exchanging your hand with your pussy. So fucking wet as you ride along his length. "So needy, Quinn. Next time, I need you to tell me what you want, okay, handsome?"

You gripped his wrists, guiding his hands to your hips. He grasped them with need, anchoring himself to you as you finally take his cock into your weeping pussy.

"Yes." Quinn nodded, stuttering his moans. You were so tight, so perfect around him. So wet and ready for him. "Please.. Please. Please."

"Needy boy," you whispered into his ear, nipping his earlobe, sucking it. "My sweet, perfect, needy Quinn. You feel so good. Do I feel good?"

Your praises etched themselves deeper than anything that could touch him. All he could think about was how your pussy felt, how your hands touches him so gently yet so roughly as your nails dug into his skin, making him groan from the mixed sensation of pain and pleasure.

"Yes." He cried out.

Your pussy squeezed, making him writhe. You grabbed his cheeks, kissing him. You moan into it, into his soul, as you greedily swallowed his sounds. He could feel your smile, your delight. It was crystal clear to both of you that he was utterly yours. To take. To fuck. To love. That was exactly what Quinn wanted.

When you rolled your hips, taking him deeper, he let out a loud moan, his head tipping back. He gasped, breathing choppy whines as you kissed and marked his neck.

"That's it, Q. Just let go," you moaned. "You are perfect. There's not a thing that I would change about you. My good boy."

He still tried to hold back. Pleasure wrecked down his spine, his eyes turning blurry, his heart pounding, his balls tightening. He was so desperate to hear you say that he was your good boy. Especially when you started kissing and sucking the sensitive skin where his jaw meet his ear, when you kept encouraging him to let go. He tried and tried and tried, but he was so weak.

"I got you, Quinn," you said as you let out your moan. The familiar pulses of your pussy got Quinn's resolve to break. "Let's come together. Be a good boy for me. Come."

And he did. When your words became an order, it was harder to last. You wanted him to be good and he was. He came hard so hard that his eyes were once again rolling back. Every spurt felt like it was drawn from his very soul. His vision hazed over with a film but sharpened at the sight of your face of pleasure. Your pussy convulsed around his cock, as you let out your own shout as you crashed down with him.

You both panted, sweat dripping down your temples. It took you both minutes to recover. You laid on him, your camisole was now transparent on some places from your and his sweat. Your breaths hit each other's skin. Your lazy smiles marked your faces as much as the red-blue kissmarks you've made on his neck.

"I love you," Quinn muttered, hissing when you squeezed around him. He tucked your hair away from your face. "Thank you for bring me back. Thank you for being here."

"I will do everything for you, Quinn." You kissed his nose. Your eyes filled up with tears. "I love you, my Heart."

His eyes watered immediately from that. While he professed his love for every time he calls you his Love, you always did too when you call him your Heart. It meant that if he lived, you would too. Even if one of you fall deep into the trenches, the other would always be there, helping each other to heal, to be strong, to be whole.

You were two beings with lives entwined. Until you have children or not. Until you two grew old that your backs would curve. Until your next lives.

Not one of you would let go.

Never.

This could've been a drabble. It might get formatted into a drabble...who knows...Hope you like it! 🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️

-> more thoughts? List.

[tinygameralec]

The magnificent @redheadsramblings gave me permission to write and post this little follow-up to their wonderful shortfic here.

---

There's a long beat of silence as the group takes in the bizarre vision of a drunk Emmrich Volkarin lying on the floor. What, the tension says, the absolute fuck?

And then Bellara is on her feet, getting everyone's attention with a sharp clap. "Alright! Taash, can you carry him? We need to get him to bed. Davrin, you and Assan are on Manfred distracting duty. Lucanis, Lace, can you clean up? Great, thanks."

Nobody thinks to argue. They've all just been reminded, very firmly, that Bellara has built her life around the Veil Jumpers and the long string of crises and chaos that is exploring Arlathan. Neve especially is thinking about how she normally works alone, and that they don't worry about her unless she hasn't turned up in a week.

Bellara is kind of scary.

Taash carefully picks the Professor up, and Davrin goes hunting for Manfred with Assan leading the way. Cleaning up happens. And Bellara leads the way to his rooms, and the bed just big enough for two if they like each other very much that hides behind his bookcases.

She knows that the Professor likes Rook very much indeed, and Rook likes him back just as fiercely. She saw Rook's face when Ghila'nain was talking about what she wanted to do to him. She's glad that the false god screamed when Lucanis killed her. She deserved more, just for threatening her friends. There wasn't enough punishment in all the world for what she'd done to the Wardens and D'Meta's Crossing.

"Weird," Taash says when they see where Emmrich sleeps, but it's not their normal tone. It's sad, and tired, and Bellara understands.

"Thanks, Taash," she says as they carefully lay him down on the mattress. The bed isn't huge, but it's comfortable, and he naturally gravitates into the dips in the mattress. It looks wrong without Rook cuddled up next to him.

"Yeah. I'll... go keep Manfred busy, I guess. He's not bad, for a weird little magic skeleton." Taash looks back in the doorway, opens their mouth. Then frowns and leaves, and Bellara wonders what she wanted to say.

"Sorry Professor." She carefully unpins his collar, eases his boots free, carefully undoes the buttons on his waistcoat. He wouldn't want any of them to see him like this, she thinks, but she hopes they've been friends for long enough that he'll forgive her.

He wakes as she shifts him to try and remove his sash, and looks at her with bleary, miserable eyes. He's not really conscious, she thinks, not with the amount of alcohol he put away earlier, but in that weird stage of awake-asleep that lies on the edge of it.

"Bel...?" he manages, and he sounds so miserable it hurts. "Why 'm I... Should be looking. Need to find Rook."

"Professor," she says, but he keeps mumbling. She can see him getting ready to launch himself out of bed and back into it, and she can't stand it. "Professor!"

He looks at her in surprise.

"Please," she continues, because if she pauses to think about what she's saying she'll lose it. "Please, get some sleep. We'll wake you if we make any progress, I promise. You know I keep my promises."

"...You do." He seems more lucid, but more tired. She hates it. "But I have to help them. I... I need to tell them I was wrong. I was stupid. I love them so much and I said such terrible things! I can't-"

"Stop!" She feels tears hammering behind her eyes, and forces them down. "Please... Professor. Emmrich." He gasps, and she realises she's almost never called him by name. She needs to fix that.

"Rest, please." She takes his hands in hers and squeezes firmly. One of his rings digs uncomfortable into her palm, but she doesn't let go. "You haven't slept since we lost them. And I'm scared. We're all scared. But we're not going to help them by hurting ourselves. They deserve our best, don't they?"

"They do." Emmrich lays his head down, eyes wet. His hands tremble in hers. "Stay with me until I sleep?"

"Of course."

[idliketobeatree]

i know good omens isn't that kind of a hardcore religious fiction show, but i would actually kill to see "in the beginning" scene with our angels in their biblically accurate forms. aziraphale as a principality/cherubim and angel!crowley as a seraphim/dominion/throne, with david and michael on the voiceover dialogue and the special effects team doing the stylised 3D animation. it would give so much depth and context to their human performances, you could never forget what they really are. it'd be a spiritual experience. and also, done right, the most hauntingly beautiful thing i'd ever see on screen

can you just imagine those ethereal eldritch horrors at the edge of the universe going look at you, you're gorgeous and beaming at each other. can you imagine crowley's thousands of eyes crinkling with delight, his rings of power moving like gearshifts, 6-pairs-or-so wings fluttering in excitement almost knocking aziraphale's form over. and aziraphale gazing up on him like he's not only hung up the stars, but like he outshines all of them. i just. god.

[jinwoosbabyboo]

The First Meet Self-Aware!Sylus

Is it still kidnapping if you’re in love with him? Yes. It is. Welcome to the N109 Zone get comfortable baby

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Self-Aware!Sylus who can call anywhere home, but is becoming less and less interested in the N109 zone because you’re not there “Well you can’t come here” “Why not?” “You’re not real Sylus how would you come here?” he turns tapping his chin as if he's actually trying to figure out a way to access your world “You could come here”

Sylus wouldn’t out right say it, but he was desperate to have you in his arms it just never seemed possible. There was nothing either of you could do so you settled for a love that would end tragically because you just couldn’t let him go. You found yourself daydreaming constantly about spending your days with him. What it would be like to hold his hand instead of your phone. To caress his cheek and feel his warmth in the palm of your hand. You gave yourself butterflies just imagining him melting into your touch.

Just him.

“You’re spacing out Princess” You slightly jumped at the sound of his voice. You glanced down at the celery you were mindlessly chopping. “Shit I didn’t mean to dice it” You huffed and scraped it onto the pan anyway; there was no way you were going back to the store right now. You looked back at Sylus who was casually sitting on his couch watching a musical. Sometimes it really made you feel crazy seeing him like this. Not the in-game repeated movements that he was programmed to do, but fluid movement and everyday life activities. It really felt like you were talking to a person and not just code in a game. “What are you watching?”

Sylus hummed off key as he answered “Heathers” You giggled at the fact that the big bad Onychinus leader watches musicals in his living room during his free time. “You should join me” He glanced at you from the corner of his eye and smiled to himself like there was some inside joke you didn’t catch. “Only in our dreams” You smiled at him, but it was somber the reality of your relationship always made you a little sad yet here you were doing nothing to end it. You turned back to stir the vegetables you had sautéing because the last thing you need is for them to overcook.

That's when you heard the clearest voice in your ear “Just dreams?” You spun around rapidly flinging food in the process. Your heart pounded against your chest as you scanned the empty kitchen looking for any other sign of life. You immediately swapped out the spoon for the knife you had just minutes earlier. “Sylus please tell me you heard that”

Silence.

You glanced at your phone and saw that the screen was off. “Is there a fucking demon in my house right now?” You snatched your phone ready to call a friend to come over, but your efforts were thwarted when a band of silky red and black mist wrapped around your wrist wrenching you backwards. “I’ve been called worse”

You breath hitched causing you to choke on your own spit as you came face to face with Sylus. Are you going crazy? You struggled against his evol that felt like what you could only describe as smoke with density. “I must be hallucinating” You’ve imagined having this man in front of you for months, but you had no idea he would be this terrifying in person. It felt like you were standing before a hungry wolf that wouldn’t second guess snapping your neck. Why was his demeanor so damn scary? Before you could even process what was happening Sylus grabbed you buy the waist and pulled you close to him. “I’m sorry Princess but this is probably going to hurt”

“Wha-” Pain seared through you in an instant like lightning and fire at once. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as it felt like your vocal cords were singed to a crisp. The pain was unbearable it changed from searing to pins and needles almost like little pieces of you were splitting apart. You couldn’t handle it and your vision went dark as you passed out.

You came too slowly, groaning as you stretched your limbs on a stiff mattress. You sat up slowly realizing you were fine. Rolling your shoulders and rubbing your legs you were sure whatever that was must have just been a terrible dream. Maybe? “I knew I was dreaming” you couldn’t explain the amount of pain you felt though. You turned and noticed instead of your usual view of your room you were looking out amongst a vast dark city. “Where-”

“What do you think?” a voice said in your ear causing your fight or flight to kick in. You pulled your legs under yourself and swung your fist as hard as you could in the direction of the voice. The person groaned at the contact and you reached for the nearest object you could find which was a lamp and swung it, but your wrist was caught mid air and you were disarmed with ease. Within seconds you were pinned down on the mattress.

Your eyes widened in shock when you realized who was holding you down “Sylus?” He was just as intimidating as he was in your dream. Or was it a dream? “You’re not dreaming” Sylus squeezed your wrist tightly “Ow stop stop it hurts” he raised an eyebrow as his lip quirked up “See?” You rolled your eyes he was way too amused with your reaction for your liking. “We need to work on that right hook of yours it's a little weak” He can’t be serious right now you just punched him in his jaw and tried to beat him over the head with a lamp and the first thing he thinks of is training your punches to get better? Typical.

Sylus couldn’t help but, chuckle at your expression with your brows furrowed and your lips curled in frustration. “I wish you could see yourself right now” You pushed his face away with your free hand irritated with him for causing you that much pain.

“I wish you would get a new mattress why is this bitch so stiff my fucking back hurts” You squirmed underneath him. He inhaled a sharp breath making you freeze realizing the position you were in; he was nestled perfectly between your legs with one hand pinned above your head. Suddenly there was a knock at the door “Boss we heard some commotion are you okay?” Sylus rolled his eyes “I’m fine. Leave.”

“Yes boss” The sound of footsteps retreated until there was silence again. Sylus looked down at you furrowing his brows, this time is was your turn to smirk. “Don’t say it” He warned. Your lips quivered as you tried to stop your smile from forming “Are those my boys?” Sylus gave you a bored look before rolling his eyes at you as well. “Do you know how hard it was to bring you here Princess? You’re more excited for Luke and Kieran than me” Sylus expression seemed irritated, but the look in his eyes was pouty. You had Sylus jealous of his own men now that was an ego boost. You squirmed in his hold again trying to free yourself. “This is a lot for me Sylus you have some explaining to do" You kicked your legs like a toddler trying to sit up once again "And let me get up your mattress is not comfortable!”

Sylus huffed at your commands, but of course he listened getting up and pulling you with him. He had you straddle his lap with his hands gently placed on your waist. “Is this more comfortable?” He leaned back against the headboard his eyes traveling up and down your body. Based on the look in his eyes it was almost as if even he couldn’t believe you were not only in front of him, but on top of him at the moment.

“No! w-well y-yea but-” You cut yourself off to save face. This man really had you stuttering like porky the pig. You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts as best as you could. “How the actual fuck am I here right now Sylus”

“Energy manipulation is stronger than you think” He shrugged like it was no big deal. “What the fuck does that even mean?”

“If you turn something into pure energy it can travel wherever you want it to even into as you call it a game world” His words bounced around in your head as you tried to make sense of them. What does he mean energy can travel anywhere. Then it hit you. The searing pain, pins and needles, the black out. “You turned me into pure energy to bring me here?!” You screamed in his face.

“Something like that” He replied in a bored tone “The shopkeeper said it should only hurt the first time” You rubbed your temples just trying to stay calm, how were you supposed to be okay with the fact that you were seemingly ripped apart and put back together inside of a damn game. You felt Sylus shifting underneath you and his hands running up your sides. “Tell me” he tilted your chin down so he could look you in the eye. “Are you not happy to have me like this?” he wrapped his arms around your waist while he rested his chin on your chest. “I can hear your heart beating fast”

“Of course I'm happy to see you” You cradled his face in your hands and he immediately melted into your touch. It was even better than you imagined it would be. His eyes closed and you could feel the satisfying hum that rumbled in his chest. You stared in awe at the sight before you; he was really melting because of you. He opened his eyes and dropped his gaze to your lips causing them to part “Prove it.”

You didn’t need to be a genius to know he wanted a kiss. You two spend many nights talking about it. He made you promise that if you ever actually met him the first thing you would do is kiss him. That promise was clearly broken since the first thing you did was punch him in the face. His lips looked so soft and full you didn’t hesitate to lean in and Sylus met you half way. It lasted no longer than three seconds before you pulled away. “What's wrong?" You shook your head and looked away “Nothing you’re just making me nervous”

You had no time to prepare yourself as Sylus slammed you back on your back and pressed his lips to yours in a heated kiss. Your eyes bugged out of your head before slightly rolling back as you gave into him. He nipped at your bottom lip and shoved his tongue in when you opened up for him. You thought he would be more rough, but he was actually so gentle. He kissed you like he was trying to perfectly mold your mouth to only fit his. No more like it was already made to fit only him. You wrapped you arms around his neck and snaked one hand up the back of his head tugging the hair at the nape. He smiled against your lips “Do that again” he whispered, hooking your leg over his hip. You tugged even harder this time relishing in the satisfied groan he let out.

You could do this for hours, but you had too many questions. You pulled his head away trying to catch your breath. “We’re not done talking Sylus” He sucked his teeth and sighed heavily as he sat up. This time he didn’t pull you onto his lap he helped you sit up and fixed your shirt that was riding up from him almost removing it. “Ask your questions” He leaned back against the headboard with his arms crossed. You couldn’t help, but giggle at the slight pout he was failing to hide. "For starters where can we buy a softer mattress?"

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[hoonstqr]

force me and choke me till i pass out - p.sh

warnings: smut! mdni! choking kink, slight degradation, backshots, spanking, unprotected sex, if i missed smth, lmk! note: the way i immediately ss these pics because wtf?!?!? hybe never close the gyms. need him to manhandle me like a ragdoll, free use anytime!! also pls ignore any mistakes, not proofread. don't like it? don't read it.

“What did you just say?” Sunghoon asks as he stops thrusting into you to process what he just heard.

“I’m asking you to choke me.” You repeat your words, your voice a little shakier than you intended. Your heart races as you feel the heat rising to your cheeks, a mix of arousal and embarrassment.

Sunghoon stares at you momentarily, his eyes darkening with lust as he tries to understand your request. He’s never done anything like this before, but your gaze tells him it’s something you need. “You’re sure about this? I don’t want to hurt you baby.”

You nod, trying to keep your voice steady. “I trust you, hoonie. Please.” The words come out in a breathy plea, and Sunghoon couldn’t refuse you. He leans in closer, his grip on your neck gentle at first, a question in his eyes. You nod again, urging him to go further.

His hand tightens around your throat, the pressure not painful but thrilling. You gasp, feeling your body respond instantly to the new sensation. Your pussy clenches around his cock, and he groans at the sudden change in tightness. The power dynamics shift and you can see the excitement in his eyes as he realizes you’re not just okay with this—you’re craving it.

Sunghoon starts to move again, his strokes a little slower and more deliberate as he chokes you. You were seeing stars cause of the delicious tension between your legs and the warm hand squeezing your neck. You can feel the blood pulsing in your ears, heightening every sensation, and making the pleasure more intense. The headboard slams against the wall in rhythm with his thrusts, echoing through the room.

He leans in closer to your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin. “You like that, don’t you? Tell me how much you like it, slut. Such a nasty girl. Made me wait so long for this.” His voice sends shivers down your spine.

You whimper, your eyes rolling back as you struggle to form words. “Y-yes, I like it, N-nghh” you manage to get out, the pressure on your throat making your voice squeak.

Sunghoon smirks, his grip tightening just a fraction, and he resumes his punishing rhythm, his hips snapping into you. Your ass cheeks burn from the friction against the bed, but it’s a sweet burn that mingles with the pleasure coursing through you. Your juices smearing on the sheets, and each smack of his hips against your ass fills the room with a lewd, wet sound that only serves to turn you on more.

Your eyes water, but it’s not from pain—it’s the overwhelming rush of pleasure that’s building up in your core. Your hands desperately claw at the bed, trying to find something to hold onto, your legs trembling as you try to keep yourself in position.

“H–hoonie, gonna c-cum,” you stutter out, your vision blurring around the edges.

Sunghoon’s grip tightens just enough to make your breath hitch, and his strokes grow more erratic. “Yeah? Cum for me, baby. Let me feel it around my cock. I want to see you lose it.” His voice is gruff, thick with his own need as he watches you teeter on the edge.

The pressure builds and builds until it’s all you can focus on—his hand around your throat, his cock stretching your ass, the sound of skin slapping together. Then it hits you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing in the throes of a powerful orgasm. You can’t hold back the choked scream that rips from your mouth as your orgasm spasms around his shaft.

Sunghoon’s eyes widen as he feels your walls clench around him, milking him closer to his release. He can’t believe how hot you look, your cheeks flushed, your eyes watering, and your worn-out state. He buries himself deep inside you, the head of his cock reaching for your cervix. You feel the pulse of his climax, ropes of cum filling you up as he empties himself into you.

His grip on your throat relaxes as he comes down from his high, his breathing ragged and heavy. You both lay there, panting, your bodies sticky with sweat and the aftermath of your intense coupling. Sunghoon’s eyes are glazed over, a look of pure satisfaction etched on his face as he looks down at you. You feel his cock soften inside you, but it’s not the end.

[sturnioloszn]

JEALOUS - C.S

summary; while your boyfriend is streaming, one specific girl keeps gifting, and you begin to feel jealous of all the attention she's receiving, so chris comes to show you some attention too...

warnings; smut, unprotected sex (wrap the willy), tit sucking, dirty talk, teasing, praising, leaving hickeys, spanking, i think that's it..?

a/n; i have more ideas for fics, but please feel free to leave suggestions/recommendations on what fics u want to see and ill provide like a fairy godmother (unless it's some crazy shit like a shit kink, get out).

It was currently 1am, and my boyfriend and I were cuddled up in his bed watching our favourite series. I loved nights where I was able to just lay in bed with Chris and relax, especially with the chaotic lives we both live.

However, this didn't last long.

"Yo, wanna stream late night fort duos?" Matt questions, walking into the room. Chris looks down at my face, which is currently resting on his chest.

"Would you mind if I streamed with Matt for a few hours, baby?" He asks. There's a look of hope in his eyes, and who am I to deny him having fun with his brother.

"Of course not, you don't have to ask me," I reply, giving a small smile. I love cuddling with Chris, but I don't mind letting him play fortnite with his brother. He'll probably hop off in a few hours and come back to bed anyway.

As he slowly stands up from his bed, he gives me a small thanks before moving to his desk. I watched him attentively as he placed his headphones on his fluffy hair and turned on his monitor, which illuminated a soft blue light onto his face.

I could watch him all day and night. He was the most beautiful man I've ever seen. The way his hair was slightly damp, from coming out the shower not long ago, and the way his facial hair looks without a few days of shaving. God, he was perfect.

"Hellooo people," he says, adjusting his mic. I didn't even realise that he had started the stream already.

I grabbed my phone from the nightstand so I could distract myself from all the screaming and shouting that was bound to happen.

~

It had been roughly an hour and a half since the stream first started, and Chris and Matt were still playing reload, and I was still scrolling on tiktok.

"HOLY SHIT, AVA WITH THE 100 BOMB!" Chris yells, making me turn my head to look at him. I loved how grateful Chris always is, whether people gift 1 or 100, Chris was always so thankful. I really did get lucky with him.

A few moments later Chris shrieks, "No fuckin' way, another 50 subs from Ava,". I turn to look at him again and he has the widest grin on his mouth.

"Everyone spam 'w Ava' in the chat," He says, focusing back in on his game.

I honestly don't know how some people are able to gift so much. I've seen the price of subs, and they are priceyyy. Yet, some people gift hundreds and hundreds.

"AVA WITH ANOTHER 50, HOLY SHIT, YOU'RE THE GOAT AVA," He yells again, shuffling in his chair.

What the fuck? This girl dropped a bag on subs in 5 minutes.

This continues for another half an hour, and to be honest, I'm getting sick of it. Don't get me wrong, I love that they're getting subs but it's the same fucking girl. Can she give it a rest? She's been spamming them with subs, and Chris is not letting it go unnoticed to anyone.

I look over to Chris, and he's smiling wider than ever. He must realise I'm staring at him, so he turns to look at me back.

As soon as we make eye contact, I shuffle on the bed and turn my back to him. From the corner of my eye, I can see his smile fade, and he turns back to his game.

I don't know why I'm feeling like this. I'm not upset about the subs. Is it jealousy? Am I feeling jealous of all the attention Chris is giving this random girl? I guess I am. It's hard not to when he left cuddling you to praise some random girl on the internet.

"Matt, I'm lowkey getting tired. After this round, I'm gonna hop off," Chris says, and through my peripheral vision, I can see him look at me.

He's lying. He's not tired at all, it's only 3am. He can sense something is wrong with me, and that's why he's hopping off the game.

But, as he said, he finished up the round and ended stream.

"Babe, what's wrong?" He asks, standing up from the chair and making his way over to me on the bed. I pretend not to hear him and shuffle slightly further away from him. He notices my actions and repeats his question.

"Why are you in a mood? Is it cause I streamed with Matt?" He continues to ask questions, but I continue to ignore him. I don't know why I'm doing this. Maybe I just want him to pay attention to me, too.

He realises the game I'm playing and decides to change the rules.

He leans down and begins to place soft kisses on my neck. I'm fighting to not close my eyes and keep looking at my screen, but the feeling is consuming me, and I let my eyes flutter close.

"Why are you ignoring me, baby? What can I do to hear your pretty voice, hm?" He says between kisses. Fuck, he knew exactly what he was doing.

He then grabs my phone out of my hand and throws it somewhere on the bed. He forcefully turns me to lay on my back and places himself between my legs, bringing his face up to mine.

"Are you gonna tell me what's wrong, or do you want to keep playing the silent game?" He challenges. I'm looking into his dark and tired eyes, enough to get lost in them.

"It's not fair," I mutter under my breath, but loud enough for him to hear.

"What's not fair, my love?" He asks, rewarding me with another kiss on my neck for answering him.

"All the attention you were showing that stupid girl," I say. My panties are already soaked by the few simple kisses that he had given me. If he continues like this, I'll have to wring out my thong.

A smirk subtly grows on his lips, and he dips his head back down to my neck for another reward. "Are you jealous, baby?" He whispers against my skin.

Fuck. He was driving me insane.

"Yeah, so what?" I ask, challenging him back. I then feel his lips attach to my neck. I gasp softly when he begins to lightly suck on my sweet spot.

"I'm so sorry baby, let me show you the attention you deserve," he says, moving back up to my face. His soft lips crash into mine, and his hands explore my body. My body feels like it's on fire, and I'm craving him more than ever.

"Chris, please," I beg. I'm begging him for something more, I need more.

"I know, baby," he coos. He then brings his hands to the hem of my shirt and lifts it over my head when he sees my nod of approval. He instantly wraps his warm mouth around my nipple and I shudder at the new sensation. He lifts his hand to my other nipple and begins to roll it between his fingertips.

By now, soft moans are escaping my mouth from the stimulation, but I'm still hungry for more. I buck my hips at him to indicate what I really want. He notices my desperate actions and separates himself from my chest.

He hooks his fingers over the band of my sweatpants and yanks them down, revealing my soaked thong.

"Fuck, look at you," He rasps, admiring the patch of wetness that seeped through my underwear. I whine at his comment, I need him so bad. He then peels his own clothes off, leaving himself in just his boxers.

As he pulls his last item of clothing off, his swollen cock sprung out. I sigh at the sight in front of me. I'll never get over this view.

"Be a good girl and get on your hands and knees," he says stroking his cock a few times and rubbing his pre-cum all over his head.

I swiftly move into the position he ordered, and I feel his hand on my lowerback, pushing me into a deeper arch. At this point, my ass is completely in the air, and I'm ready for him to use me.

I feel him pull my thong to the side, letting the cold air in the room hit my warm and wet pussy. With no hesitation, he slides his cock into me with ease, filling me up. We both moan at the contact.

He instantly starts ramming into me, showing no mercy whatsoever. My arms give out immediately, and my face is smushed into a pillow.

"Isn't this what you wanted? My attention," He grunts out from behind me, placing a firm slap on my right ass cheek. I let out a strangled moan, allowing myself to grip the bedsheets.

"Answer you attention whore," he repeats, placing another slap on my ass.

"Y-yes, fuck!" I yelp. He continues to ruthlessly fuck my pussy and I feel the heat in my lower stomach build. I was coming close to finishing. Between the dirty talk, the spanks, and of course the fucking, I wasn't going to last long at all.

"C-chris m'gonna...f-finish," I stutter out. My knuckles are turning white from how intensely I'm gripping the sheets.

"Yeah? Come on my cock like the good girl you are," he groans, placing another spank on my cheek. I bet that by now, my ass is glowing red.

His words push me over the edge, and I violently shake beneath him, allowing a flow of curse words to leave my mouth as he helps me ride out my high and bring himself to his own.

"Fuck. Your such a jealous whore and look how I have you, you think I'm fuckin' other girls like this? Hm?" He asks, pounding into me even harder. I'm starting to become oversensitive, but I know he's about to come any second.

I feel his hands grip my hips hard enough to leave bruises and his warm cum coats my insides. His movements begin to slow, and I let out a satisfied sigh. I feel him pull his limp cock out of my full pussy and he moves to lay beside me.

I crumble next to him and place my head on his chest. Our sweaty bodies are still for a moment as we attempt to catch our breath after the best cardio session ever.

"Jealousy cured?" He smiles, looking down at me.

"Definitely. I'm sorry for being a bitch earlier," I apoligise, giving a sincere smile. Before he can reply, his phone buzzes.

"Who the fuck is texting at almost 4am?" He questions, as he unlocks his phone. He opens his texts and sees a message from Matt:

'Tired my ass, u guys are disgusting'

He pans his phone over to me, and we both die from laughter. The rest of the night is spent cuddling and watching tv together, just the way I love it.

a/n; this is long as shitttt. anywhoo, thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed another one of my 4am creations. love youu <33.

[sh1-n0bu]

♡︎ 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧 ♡︎

characters: sub!qiuyuan x gn!dom!reader

warnings: written before anything about character is known except for his name and design so obv it’s free balling, strap/cock traditions per usual, exhibitionism, handjob, cumming inside, hair pulling, multiple orgasm, degrading, feminization, attempt at breeding, talks of pregnancy, going with the theory that quiyuan is jianxin’s master, reader is a FREAK and is obsessed with the poor man

notes: i am a WHORE

in the temples that resides at the very top of one of the many peaks that surrounds jinzhou with its protective barrier, there is where the next masters or aspiring martial artists commune to train, share experiences or to simply rest their weary bones. young and old, experienced and brimming with thirst for adventure, many martial artists walk through the doors of the temple with open heart and clear mind. not all however, is so keen on keeping their visions clear and at their prime, choosing to tug one of the wandering masters who seldom showed their visages to the nearest room and shutting themselves inside.

it wasn’t even night nor had he bathed yet, still slick with the latest tacet discord’s blood and sweat, impure and made even more filthier as you chose to ram your cock into his half prepared hole, shutting the choked scream with a hand over his mouth. qiuyuan let out a whine into your hand, feeling the way how your dick wasn’t even all the way inside him and yet how his leg was shaking already, hands clambering to hold onto the nearest wall for support. the sweetest little noises escaping through your fingers, gasps and moans filling the empty room as you finally bottom out inside him with a pleased groan. immediately, qiuyuan was slapping at you as far as his arm could reach, scratching at your hand over his mouth while his one leg is pulled up with your hand underneath his knee.

“y-you filthy creature” qiuyuan spat out, hissing at you like some adorable angered kitty while he tried to hide his flushed cheeks with his messy hair. “this is t-the temple huuhg of jinzhou. should you wanted me ahh-haah this badly, a-at least do it someplace private!” his hoarse voice tipped off into a whine when you chose to move just a bit, nudging against his prostate sweetly, making his hands clammer up with sweat as he worries over keeping himself quiet. but even then, try as he might to keep his noises down, he could still hear the wet squelch of your cock fucking him open and how his nails scratched against the wood.

you couldn’t help but laugh quietly under your breath, seeing the ever so stoic and cold wandering swordmaster be reduced to stuttering little thing by just shoving your cock inside his hole. lone wolf, my ass, he was anything but a lone wolf with the way he keeps falling into your hands over and over despite his complaints. a bunny in heat would suit his description more with the way his hole and throat loves to swallow your cum, as if he wanted to be bred full.

“ah, but master qiuyuan” you coo out his name and title with so much sweetness that the swordsmaster felt sick. or was that because he swore he could feel your cock pushing against his guts? feeling his legs tremble and lips quiver as his poor neglected dick weeps untouched? qiuyuan didn’t know and frankly, he didn’t wanted to know.

“you’re just so cute, y’know? standing there with your arms crossed, cold eyes glaring at some poor tree while you blank out. it makes me wanna ruin you. get you all filthy and messy, maybe even fuck you ‘till you squirt”. oh how he hated how he bit back a whimper at your words, tilting his head down even further to try and hide the shame he felt from getting aroused by just your disgusting words alone. who even gave you the rights to get this touchy with him in the first place? why does he keep allowing you to do these things to him?

before the cold man could think of something to hiss back at you, you were already grabbing at his hair, holding the fluffy long ponytail tightly in your hand and pulling on it, making the swordmaster let out a cute squeal as he arched his back, body flush against the wooden walls.

“you damned bea—aang♡︎!” an uncharacteristically high pitched moan leaves his lips when you start to move, pulling out until your dildo was nearly out of his slippery hole before slamming it all the way back inside. his body, albeit bigger than yours, rattled at the force of the thrust, his hands leaving their purchase by the walls and instead choosing to hold them over his mouth. he’ll get back at you for this, definitely torment you with stricter training, but right now, qiuyuan tried his best to keep his mind in place, to prevent himself from letting out stupid noises that he knows you love to hear fall from his throat.

“you’re no fun at all, master. i wanted to catch you off guard and hear your cute noises” you whisper against his shoulder, smelling the metallic scent of the TD’s blood on his clothes. not like it was disgusting, if anything, it made you green eyed. made you thrust harder, deeper, as if jealous over the notion that the cold man you liked so much was so physically close to another beast other than yourself.

qiuyuan was sure of it, sure that you were some monster in human form, because every thrust into his lubed up hole was so forceful to the point he swore he could feel your strap carving out his insides, forcing him to get used to the size of your stupid dick, remember the shape of your cock. the cold lube that was smeared over his succulent ass created filthy plap! plap! noises every time you fucked the air out of his lungs, leaving him feeling lightheaded as he desperately tried to quieten his moans. even then, even with the way he held his hands over his mouth, bit his lip or held fabrics of his scarf over his drool covered lips, small gasps and sharp punched out whines escaped. and they seemed to motivate you, making your thrust more harder, nearly jackrabbiting constantly into his sweet spot.

“nngh—ungck.. y-you really.. do-on’t know aangh haah know to uhmmg-guck.. f-fuck! fuck fucking hell, [na-ame]♡︎” qiuyuan all but mewled, every last thoughts of indignation being fucked out of his brain every time your strap grazes his prostate, his knee that you held up jerking upon the feeling. his mind was melting away, he was sure of it. you must be using your forte, you must have poisoned his mind and his body because he was tearing up, his own untouched dick bobbing every time you thrust back into his clenching hole, rendering him speechless.

whining under his breath, shaking his head as if to try and clear his mind, he let out pathetic little noises. punched out moans and sharp gasps rising in volume as you keep his head pulled back by his long hair, fucking every thoughts out of his brain.

“ngh—no! no more! [name], we ca—ahn’t… can’t♥︎ can’t! we— aanh ahg-gahc mhh hummg♡︎” the swordmaster shook his head over and over, already babbling as if you had fucked him until his mind melted into a useless mush with sharp gasps increasing in volume. letting go of your hold on his hair, you turn your attention to his dick. still weeping like the sad little thing it was, all left alone and untouched, a cute red in the tip as if it was chocking on the amount of cum it held back.

“better keep your voice down, master” you whisper into his ear, making qiuyuan shudder with a swallowed moan. he hated how much control you had over him, over his body, how easily he folded under you like a little toy for your satisfaction. but his thoughts of hatred for you is for later time, a chocked sob escaping his throat as if he had been strangled when you touched his weeping cock, taking it in your hand and swirling your thumb constantly over the tip, occasionally rubbing down into his slip forcefully. qiuyuan damn right mewled, pushing his hips back, wanting to escape your cruel hands but fucking himself right into your strap, feeling the stupid thing up into his throat with a punched out noise.

forcing him to keep himself upright, you fuck into him with the same pace as you twist and swirl the tip of his cock. qiuyuan just all but lost it and had it not been for his growing endurance against your libido and obsession with him, he would have screamed as he creamed your fingers, cried like some untouched virgin while his drool slipped down to his chin.

legs shaking, hopping like the cute bunny you see him as, his tremors finally die down after a while, leaving you still guts deep inside him as your hand lets go of his now softening dick. the ivory colored, sickeningly sweet smelling semen drips down to the floor, no doubt would leave a stain later on, but it wasn’t in your interest. the man who was hiding his face was.

shifting him around, pulling him closer, you wrestle his bigger body to turn face towards you. pulling his legs up to wrap around your waist, his back flush against the wall, for a moment, your hand grasps his jaw to make him keep an eye contact. steely grey eyes with his pupils blown wide, you remembered how they turned into a cute heart shape with glossy tears over them when you first fucked him dumb, left him incoherent and stupid.

“hey, master qiuyuan” you call out quietly, a little bit too intimate to his liking as his cute flushed face tries to glare at you through his drool covered chin and red bitten lips. it made you grin, a look on your face that just spelled trouble for the swordmaster as he bit down his whimper at the hungry look you give him.

“how would you feel about a baby?” you whisper, leaning your face in close to his own as if about to kiss him. he would have preferred it even, inching his own handsome face closer to yours, ready to pucker his lips. but that question seemed to kick some sense into his fried brain, regaining a sense of consciousness. “what? y-you can’t be serious, i’m a ma—aAANGH♥︎!” his protest is cut short, a loud wail leaving him as you return to rearranging his guts full force. oh, how was it possible, he could feel your tip all the way up to his throat! what sort of forte would you use on him, you senseless beast? his hole would be left gaping whenever you’ll be satisfied with his body!

“you know, a cute little baby. a mix of you and me, a little one. boy or girl, i wouldn’t care. i’d just love to see ya’ waddling around, belly round and adorable” you continue with your mumbling, a dull noise to his ears as you keep your gaze on his face. so cute, this swordmaster was. blushing to his ears, grey eyes like the sword’s blade he wields rolling to the back of his skull while you thrust your cock back into his hole. clenching down around you every time you pull out as if his body subconsciously wanted that, craved to get knocked up by you. carry your seed in his womb, get all round and become yours.

“y-you caaanh’t..! aah yoo-ouw can’t haah mmgh hhngk [n-name]♡︎ n-no.. no babiesssh. n-noough aahgg haahg♡︎♡︎” his words trailed off into a senseless squeal, switching from the common tongue to what you guess is jinzhou dialect, babbling random things as the wet plaps of your thrusts meeting his ass get louder with the reach of your dick going further inside him. qiuyuan took in a loud gasp, mewling when your rough thrust fucked into his sweet spot just perfectly, tears starting to build up in his eyes from the constant pounding to his fluttering hole.

ah, he’ll cry. he’s going to cry and it will all be your fault for being so damn mean to him. have mercy on his dumb self and let his sensitive body catch a break, or else he’ll be squirting over himself like some pretty little whore for you.

qiuyuan let out another filthy mewl, too high-pitched, too breathy, too whiny, too girly when you heard footsteps outside the thin paper walls of the room, placing a hand over his drooling mouth to silence his cute noises. as much as you loved to hear him slur over his words senselessly, you’d rather not get caught and be forced to share. qiuyuan was only yours and you’ll find a way to make him yours eternally one day.

speeding up your thrusts, making up for the sloppy jackrabbiting of your hips meeting his with the roughness of your movements, you could feel qiuyuan’s hands tremble as he clutched at your arms and shoulders. a single tear falling from his eye, going slack in your hold as his dick slaps against his stomach one last time before it weakly spurted out his cum, painting the pretty scarred muscles of his stomach. you were sure he would have screamed judging by the way his legs shook around your waist when you pushed your strap into his hole one last time, muffling your own groans and moans into his neck. eagerly, his hole clenched tight around you — so tightly you nearly worried if the blood flow will stop — lapping up every drop of your cum inside himself before his shaking is replaced by gentle tremors, soft whines muffled by your hand.

pulling out after waiting for qiuyuan to stop shaking, you quickly plug him up with a butt plug, silencing his refusing sobs with a messy kiss full of spit and blood. that’ll keep him warm until you see him again later tonight, and certainly remind him of your presence. the swordmaster was already hissing at you random words of annoyance, resisting the urge to hump the air as he felt the warmth stay persistently inside his gummy walls. you were ruining him, fucking him up in both ways and more.

once the footsteps had passed by the room you two were in, you hastily clothe him up before stepping outside.

later on, you could overhear a certain monk lady worry over her master and why he was limping and all pink in the face. in response you only whistled a tune from where you swept the temple grounds, already brimming with excitement and looking forward to your midnight rendezvous. meanwhile, qiuyuan had to deal with his sweet yet overly distressed disciple. he will get you back for this.

[pucksandpower]

Jilted

Charles Leclerc x runaway bride!Reader

Summary: you find out that your groom is a cheating bastard on your wedding day … Charles helps you pick up the pieces

The sun-drenched bridal suite buzzes with anticipation as you stand before the full-length mirror, your reflection a vision in white lace and satin. Your heart races, a mix of excitement and nerves coursing through your veins. This is supposed to be the happiest day of your life, but something feels ... off.

“You look absolutely stunning,” your best friend, Mia, gushes as she adjusts your veil. “James won’t know what hit him.”

You force a smile, trying to shake the nagging feeling in your gut. “Thanks, Mia. I just ... I can’t believe this is really happening.”

Mia squeezes your hand reassuringly. “Cold feet are totally normal. Trust me, once you see James waiting for you at the altar, all those doubts will melt away.”

A soft knock at the door interrupts your thoughts. Your mother peeks her head in, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Oh, sweetheart,” she breathes. “You’re absolutely beautiful.”

As she enters the room, you notice her clutching her phone, her knuckles white. “Mom? Is everything okay?”

She hesitates, exchanging a worried glance with Mia. “I ... I’m not sure how to say this, honey.”

Your stomach drops. “Mom, what is it? Just tell me.”

She takes a deep breath. “I just got off the phone with James’ mother. She... she overheard him talking to someone. A woman.”

The room spins as you struggle to process her words. “What are you saying?”

“It seems ... it seems James has been seeing someone else. For quite some time, apparently.”

The words hit you like a physical blow. You stumble back, gripping the edge of the vanity for support. “No,” you whisper. “That can’t be true. We’re getting married in an hour!”

Mia rushes to your side, her arm around your waist. “Y/N, breathe. We’ll figure this out.”

But you can’t breathe. The room feels too small, the air too thick. “I need ... I need to talk to him.”

Before anyone can stop you, you’re bolting from the room, your dress billowing behind you as you race down the hallway. You burst into the groom’s quarters, startling the group of groomsmen inside.

“Where is he?” You demand, your voice trembling.

James’ best man, Tom, steps forward, his face pale. “Y/N, what are you doing here? It’s bad luck-”

“Where. Is. He?” You repeat, each word dripping with venom.

The bathroom door opens, and there he stands — the man you thought you’d spend forever with. James’ eyes widen as he takes in your disheveled appearance. “Honey? What’s wrong?”

You laugh, the sound bitter and hollow. “What’s wrong? How about you tell me, James? Who is she?”

His face crumples, and in that moment, you know it’s true. “Y/N, I can explain-”

“Explain?” You spit. “Explain how you’ve been cheating on me our entire engagement? How you were going to stand up there and lie to my face, in front of everyone we love?”

James reaches for you, but you recoil. “Please, just let me-”

“Don’t touch me!” You scream, tears streaming down your face. “How could you do this to me?”

The room falls silent, save for your ragged breathing. James’ groomsmen shift uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact. You turn to leave, but James grabs your arm.

“Y/N, wait. I love you. We can work this out,” he pleads.

You wrench your arm free, fixing him with a glare that could freeze hell itself. “Love me? You don’t even know the meaning of the word.”

With that, you’re running again, pushing past concerned guests and ignoring the calls of your name. You burst out of the hotel into the blinding sunlight, your legs carrying you down the street without a destination in mind.

You don’t know how long you run, your white dress now stained with dirt and tears. Eventually, you find yourself in a part of town you don’t recognize, your feet aching and your lungs burning. A neon sign catches your eye — The Dive Hole.

Without thinking, you push open the door to the dingy bar. The few patrons inside turn to stare as you stumble in, a bride in full wedding attire, mascara streaking down your cheeks.

The bartender, a gruff-looking man in his fifties, raises an eyebrow. “Rough day, sweetheart?”

You laugh, the sound bordering on hysterical. “You could say that.”

As you collapse onto a barstool, the weight of the day finally crashes down on you. You bury your face in your hands, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

The bartender slides a glass of amber liquid in front of you. “On the house,” he says gruffly. “Looks like you could use it.”

You lift your head, offering him a watery smile. “Got anything stronger?”

***

The world spins as you stumble out of The Dive Hole, your wedding dress now stained with whiskey and regret. The streetlights blur into a hazy glow as you teeter on your heels, struggling to maintain your balance.

“Hey, watch it!” A passerby shouts as you nearly collide with him.

“Sorry,” you slur, waving a hand dismissively. “Just trying to ... to find my happily ever after. Have you seen it? I think I lost it somewhere.”

The man hurries away, leaving you alone on the sidewalk. You laugh bitterly, the sound echoing in the empty street. “That’s right, run away! Everyone else does!”

As you take another unsteady step, your heel catches in a crack in the pavement. You lurch forward, bracing for impact with the cold, hard ground. But instead of concrete, you find yourself enveloped in warmth.

“Whoa there!” A gentle voice exclaims. “Are you alright?”

You blink, trying to focus on the face of your savior. Kind green eyes peer down at you, filled with concern. The man helps you regain your footing, his hands steady on your arms.

“I’m fine,” you insist, even as the world continues to tilt around you. “Just ... just celebrating. It’s my wedding day, you know.”

The man’s brow furrows as he takes in your disheveled appearance. “Celebrating alone? In the middle of the street?”

You nod vigorously, immediately regretting the action as nausea washes over you. “Yep! Best day ever. Who needs a groom anyway, right?”

“I’m Charles,” he introduces himself, his accent warm and inviting. “And I think maybe you should sit down for a moment. There’s a bench just over there.”

He gently guides you to the nearby bench, helping you settle onto it. You slump against the backrest, your head lolling to the side.

“So, Charles,” you drawl, poking him in the chest. “What brings you out on this fine evening? Looking for love in all the wrong places?”

Charles chuckles softly. “Actually, I was just heading home after a late dinner with friends. And then I found a beautiful bride who seems to be having a rough night.”

You snort, gesturing to your ruined dress. “Beautiful? I look like I’ve been through a war. A war of the heart.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Charles offers, his voice gentle and free of judgment.

For a moment, you consider spilling everything. But the wound is too fresh, the betrayal too raw. Instead, you shake your head, feeling tears well up in your eyes once more.

“No talking,” you mumble. “Just ... can you sit with me for a bit?”

Charles nods, settling onto the bench beside you. “Of course. Take all the time you need.”

You sit in silence for a while, the cool night air slowly clearing your head. Charles remains a steady presence at your side, occasionally glancing at you with concern.

Finally, you break the silence. “I should probably go home. Except ... I don’t really know where home is anymore.”

Charles frowns. “You don’t have anywhere to go?”

You shake your head, a humorless laugh escaping your lips. “Nope. Funny how your whole life can fall apart in a single day, huh?”

Charles is quiet for a moment, seeming to wrestle with a decision. Finally, he speaks. “Look, I know we’ve just met, but ... I have a spare room. You’re welcome to stay there for the night, just to sleep it off and figure things out in the morning.”

You blink at him, surprised by the offer. “You’d do that for a stranger?”

He shrugs, a small smile playing at his lips. “Well, we’re not exactly strangers now, are we? Besides, I couldn’t live with myself if I left you out here alone.”

You consider his offer. Every logical part of your brain is screaming that this is a bad idea, but something in Charles’ eyes tells you he can be trusted. Plus, you’re not exactly swimming in options at the moment.

“Okay,” you agree softly. “Thank you, Charles.”

He helps you to your feet, steadying you as you sway slightly. “My car’s just around the corner. Think you can make it?”

You nod, determined. “Lead the way, knight in shining armor.”

The ride to Charles’ apartment is mercifully short. You spend most of it with your head against the cool glass of the window, trying to keep the nausea at bay. Charles fills the silence with gentle small talk, his voice soothing in the darkness.

When you arrive, Charles helps you out of the car and into the elevator. As you ascend, the reality of your situation starts to sink in.

“Oh God,” you groan, leaning against the elevator wall. “What am I doing? I don’t even know you. For all I know, you could be a serial killer or something.”

Charles chuckles. “I promise I’m not a serial killer. Just a guy who couldn’t leave a crying bride on the street.”

The elevator doors open, and Charles leads you down the hallway to his apartment. As he fumbles with his keys, you sway on your feet, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up with you.

“Here we are,” Charles announces, pushing open the door. “Home sweet home.”

You step inside, taking in the stylish but comfortable living room. “Nice place. Very ... un-serial-killer-like.”

Charles laughs. “Thanks, I think. The spare room is just down the hall, but maybe we should get you some water first.”

He guides you to the kitchen, filling a glass with cool water. You accept it gratefully, gulping it down.

“Easy there,” Charles warns. “Small sips or you’ll make yourself sick.”

You nod, slowing down. As you finish the water, a wave of emotion washes over you. The events of the day come crashing back, and before you know it, you’re sobbing.

“Hey, hey,” Charles says softly, moving closer. “It’s okay. You’re safe here.”

Without thinking, you throw yourself into his arms, burying your face in his shirt. Charles stiffens for a moment, surprised, before wrapping his arms around you.

“I’m s-sorry,” you hiccup between sobs. “I’m getting your shirt all wet and snotty.”

You feel Charles’ chest rumble with a soft laugh. “Don’t worry about it. That’s what washing machines are for.”

He holds you as you cry, one hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. You cling to him, this kind stranger who’s shown you more compassion in one night than your fiancé did in years.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Charles asks gently.

You shake your head, still pressed against his chest. “Not yet. Maybe... maybe tomorrow.”

“Okay,” he says simply. “Whenever you’re ready.”

You stay like that for a while, your sobs gradually subsiding into quiet sniffles. Charles continues to hold you, his presence a comforting anchor in the storm of your emotions.

As your breathing evens out, exhaustion begins to overtake you. Your eyelids grow heavy, and you find yourself struggling to stay upright.

Charles seems to sense your fatigue. “Come on,” he says softly. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He leads you down the hallway to the spare room, supporting most of your weight as you stumble along. The room is simple but cozy, with a plush-looking bed that seems to call your name.

“There should be some spare pajamas in the dresser,” Charles says. “They might be a bit big, but they’ll be more comfortable than that dress.”

You nod sleepily, already fumbling with the zipper of your gown. Charles quickly turns away, a blush creeping up his neck.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll leave you to it,” he stammers. “Bathroom’s right across the hall if you need it. And I’ll be in the living room if you need anything, okay?”

“Okay,” you mumble, your eyes already half-closed. “Thank you, Charles. For everything.”

He smiles softly. “Goodnight. Sleep well.”

As the door closes behind him, you manage to slip out of your wedding dress and into a pair of soft sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. The bed feels like heaven as you sink into it, your body finally relaxing after the emotional roller coaster of the day.

But as you lie there in the dark, the silence allows your thoughts to creep back in. Memories of James, of the life you thought you’d have, of the future that’s now shattered. Tears begin to fall once more, soaking into the pillow.

Before you know it, you’re padding out to the living room, sniffling quietly. Charles looks up from his spot on the couch, concern etched on his face.

“Hey,” he says softly. “Can’t sleep?”

You shake your head, wrapping your arms around yourself. “Every time I close my eyes, I see ... I just ... I don’t want to be alone right now.”

Without a word, Charles opens his arms. You practically collapse onto the couch next to him, curling into his side. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you close.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “You’re not alone. I’m right here.”

You nod against his chest, fresh tears soaking into his shirt. Charles doesn’t seem to mind, just holds you tighter and begins to hum softly, a soothing melody that washes over you.

As you lie there, surrounded by the warmth and kindness of this virtual stranger, you feel something you haven’t felt all day: safe. The steady rhythm of Charles’ heartbeat and the gentle rise and fall of his chest lull you into a state of calm.

Your eyelids grow heavy once more, and this time, you don’t fight it. As you drift off to sleep, still wrapped in Charles’ arms and using his shirt as a makeshift tissue, your last coherent thought is a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, tomorrow will be better.

***

The first rays of sunlight filter through the unfamiliar curtains, gently rousing you from your slumber. For a blissful moment, you’re disoriented, unaware of where you are or why your head feels like it’s been stuffed with cotton. Then, like a tidal wave, the memories of yesterday crash over you, bringing with them a fresh wave of pain and embarrassment.

You groan, burying your face in the pillow. How did you end up here? Slowly, fragments of the night before come back to you — a kind stranger, an offer of shelter, crying yourself to sleep on the stranger’s couch.

Charles.

His name was Charles.

The smell of coffee and something deliciously savory wafts through the air, making your stomach growl despite the lingering nausea. Reluctantly, you drag yourself out of bed, wincing at your reflection in the mirror. Your hair is a tangled mess, mascara smudged under your eyes, and you’re wearing clothes that are decidedly not yours.

Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself to face your host. You pad quietly down the hallway, following the sounds of movement in the kitchen. As you round the corner, you see Charles standing at the stove, his back to you as he hums softly to himself.

You clear your throat softly. “Um, good morning.”

Charles turns, a warm smile lighting up his face. “Good morning! How are you feeling?”

You grimace, running a hand through your tangled hair. “Like I’ve been hit by a truck. Emotionally and physically.”

He chuckles sympathetically. “I bet. Here, sit down. Coffee?”

You nod gratefully, sinking into a chair at the small kitchen table. “Yes, please. And maybe some painkillers if you have them?”

“Coming right up,” Charles says, placing a steaming mug in front of you before rummaging in a drawer for the pills.

As you sip the coffee, relishing the warmth spreading through your body, Charles returns to the stove. “I hope you like omelets. I wasn’t sure what you’d be up for, but I figured eggs are usually a safe bet.”

“Omelets sound perfect,” you say, your stomach rumbling in agreement. “Thank you. For everything. I ... I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t found me last night.”

He waves off your thanks, sliding a plate in front of you. “No need to thank me. I’m just glad I could help.”

As Charles settles into the chair across from you with his own plate, a comfortable silence falls between you. You pick at your food, your appetite warring with the knot of anxiety in your stomach.

Finally, Charles breaks the silence. “So ... seems like yesterday is quite a story.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “A very long one.”

Charles’ green eyes meet yours, filled with gentle curiosity. “Care to share?”

You hesitate, pushing your food around your plate. Part of you wants to keep it all locked away, to pretend yesterday never happened. But another part of you is desperate to unburden yourself, to make sense of the whirlwind that turned your life upside down.

Taking a deep breath, you begin. “Well, yesterday was supposed to be my wedding day.”

Charles nods encouragingly. “I gathered as much from the dress. What happened?”

“I found out my fiancé — ex-fiancé now, I guess — has been cheating on me. Throughout our entire engagement.”

Charles winces. “Ouch. That’s ... I’m so sorry.”

You shrug, trying to appear nonchalant even as tears prick at your eyes. “Yeah, well. Apparently I’m great at picking them.”

“How did you find out?” Charles asks gently.

You laugh bitterly. “Oh, it was a real soap opera moment. His mother overheard him on the phone with the other woman, literally an hour before the ceremony. She told my mom, who told me, and ... well, you can imagine how that went down.”

Charles shakes his head, disbelief etched on his face. “That’s awful. What did you do?”

“I confronted him, of course. In front of all his groomsmen. It was ... not my finest moment. There was a lot of yelling, some crying, probably some mascara running. And then I just ... ran. In my wedding dress. Like some cliché runaway bride, except I had nowhere to run to.”

You pause, taking a sip of coffee to steady yourself. Charles remains silent, his face a mix of sympathy and something else — anger, maybe?

“I ended up in some bar I’d never been to before,” you continue. “Drank way too much, way too fast. And then I was stumbling around on the street, and ... well, you know the rest.”

Charles nods slowly, processing your story. “Wow. That’s ... that’s a hell of a day.”

You snort. “You can say that again.”

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” Charles says, reaching across the table to squeeze your hand gently. “No one deserves that kind of betrayal.”

His touch is warm and comforting, and you find yourself fighting back tears again. “Thanks. I just ... I feel so stupid. How did I not see it? We were together for five years. We were supposed to spend our lives together. And all this time ...”

“Hey,” Charles interrupts softly. “You’re not stupid. He’s the one who made the choice to betray your trust. That’s on him, not you.”

You nod, not entirely convinced but appreciating his words nonetheless. “I guess. It’s just ... where do I go from here? We had a whole life planned out. A home, careers, maybe kids someday. And now it’s all just ... gone.”

Charles is quiet for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. “Maybe this is an opportunity.”

You look at him skeptically. “An opportunity? To what, have my heart ripped out and stomped on?”

He chuckles softly. “No, no. I mean ... look, I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but you’ve been given a chance to rewrite your story. To figure out what you really want, without having to consider someone else’s dreams or expectations.”

His words give you pause. You’d been so focused on what you’d lost, you hadn’t even considered what you might gain. “I ... I guess I never thought of it that way.”

“It’s okay if you’re not ready to see it as a positive yet,” Charles assures you. “Healing takes time. But I promise you, this isn’t the end of your story. It’s just the beginning of a new chapter.”

You manage a small smile, the first genuine one since yesterday morning. “Where did you learn to be so wise, huh?”

Charles grins, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Oh, you know. I moonlight as a philosopher when I’m not rescuing damsels in distress from the streets.”

You laugh, surprised by how good it feels. “My hero,” you tease.

As your laughter fades, a comfortable silence settles between you. You find yourself studying Charles, really looking at him for the first time. He’s handsome, in a boyish sort of way, with kind eyes and an easy smile. There’s something familiar about him, but you can’t quite place it.

“So,” you say, breaking the silence. “I’ve shared my tragic backstory. What about you? What’s your deal, Charles?”

He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh, you know. Just your average guy.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Average guys don’t usually invite strange women in wedding dresses to stay the night. Unless ... oh God, you’re not married, are you? Did I just cause some poor woman to think her husband was cheating?”

Charles laughs, holding up his hands. “No, no, nothing like that. I’m very much single. And I promise, inviting strange women in wedding dresses to stay over is not a regular occurrence for me.”

“So what do you do, then? When you’re not playing knight in shining armor?”

A flicker of something crosses Charles’ face before he answers. “I’m ... in sports. Racing, actually.”

You nod, impressed. “Racing? Like, cars?”

“Formula 1,” he clarifies. “I’m a driver.”

Suddenly, it clicks. The familiarity, the nagging feeling that you’ve seen him before. Your eyes widen. “Oh my God. You’re Charles Leclerc. The Ferrari driver.”

He grins sheepishly. “Guilty as charged.”

You bury your face in your hands, mortified. “Oh God. Oh God. I cried all over a world-famous race car driver. I used your shirt as a tissue. This is ... this is so embarrassing.”

Charles reaches across the table, gently pulling your hands away from your face. “Hey, none of that. I’m just a person, like anyone else. And I meant what I said — I’m glad I could help.”

You peek at him through your fingers. “You’re sure? Because I’m pretty sure I got mascara and snot all over your probably very expensive shirt.”

He laughs, the sound warm and genuine. “I promise, it’s fine. The shirt will survive. I’m more concerned about you. How are you feeling now?”

You consider the question, taking stock of your emotional state. “Honestly? Still pretty awful. But ... maybe a little less awful than before. Thank you. Really. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t found me last night.”

Charles smiles softly. “I’m just glad I was in the right place at the right time. And hey, look at it this way — you’ve got a pretty unique story to tell now.”

You groan, but can’t help laughing. “Oh yeah, because drunk and crying in a wedding dress is exactly how I wanted to meet one of the best F1 drivers in the world.”

“One of the best?” Charles teases, clutching his chest in mock offense. “I’ll have you know I’m clearly the best.”

You roll your eyes, grinning despite yourself. “Oh, excuse me. I didn’t realize I was in the presence of such greatness.”

As you banter back and forth, you feel something shift inside you. The pain is still there, raw and aching, but it’s no longer all-consuming. For the first time since yesterday, you feel a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, you’ll be okay after all.

***

The roar of engines fills the air as you make your way through the bustling paddock, the excitement of race day palpable. You can’t help but smile, still amazed at how much your life has changed in the past few years. From runaway bride to Formula 1 WAG — it’s a plot twist you never saw coming.

“Mon cœur!” A familiar voice calls out. You turn to see Charles jogging towards you, his race suit tied around his waist. He grins as he reaches you, pulling you into a quick embrace.

“Hey, you,” you say, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

Charles shrugs, his eyes twinkling. “I’ve got time. Besides, I needed my good luck charm.”

You roll your eyes fondly. “Flatterer. Go on, get back to work. I’ll be cheering you on from the garage.”

He steals one more kiss before heading back towards his team, leaving you shaking your head with a smile. As you turn to make your way to the Ferrari motorhome, a familiar face in the crowd stops you dead in your tracks.

Your ex-fiancé is standing just a few feet away, gawking at you with wide eyes. For a moment, you’re frozen, unsure how to react. It’s been years since you’ve seen him, since that disastrous almost-wedding day.

Before you can decide whether to acknowledge him or pretend you haven’t seen him, James is moving towards you, a strange mix of emotions playing across his face.

“Y/N?” He says, his voice tinged with disbelief. “Is that really you?”

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. “Hello, James.”

He looks you up and down, taking in your sleek outfit and the VIP pass hanging around your neck. “Wow. You look ... different. What are you doing here?”

“I’m here with my partner,” you say simply, not feeling the need to elaborate.

James’ brow furrows. “Your partner? You mean like ... a business partner?”

You can’t help but laugh. “No, James. My partner. As in, the person I’m in a relationship with.”

His eyes widen comically. “You’re dating someone involved in Formula 1? Who?”

Before you can answer, a small group of fans approaches, their eyes lighting up as they spot you.

“Excuse me,” one of them says excitedly. “You’re Charles Leclerc’s girlfriend, right? Could we please get a picture?”

You smile warmly at them. “Of course!”

As you pose for photos with the fans, exchanging a few friendship bracelets as well, you can see James out of the corner of your eye. He’s standing there, mouth agape, looking like he’s been hit over the head with a frying pan.

Once the fans move on, James practically pounces on you. “Charles Leclerc? You’re dating Charles Leclerc? How ... when ... what?”

You sigh, already tired of this conversation. “Yes, Charles and I have been together for a while now. Is there something else you needed?”

He shakes his head, still looking dazed. “I just ... I can’t believe it. How did this happen?”

“It’s a long story,” you say, not particularly wanting to rehash your past with him. “One I don’t really have time to get into right now.”

James seems to ignore your hint, his eyes narrowing. “Come on, Y/N. You can’t expect me to believe that you’re actually dating one of the best F1 drivers in the world. What’s really going on here?”

You feel a flash of anger at his dismissive tone. “Excuse me?”

“I mean, no offense,” James continues, oblivious to your growing irritation, “but last I knew, you couldn’t tell the difference between F1 and NASCAR. Now you’re supposedly dating a Ferrari driver? It doesn’t add up.”

You clench your fists, trying to keep your cool. “People change. They grow. They learn new things. Not that it’s any of your business.”

He scoffs. “Right. So I’m supposed to believe that in the few years since our ... since we last saw each other, you’ve not only become an F1 expert but also managed to snag one of the most eligible bachelors in the sport? Come on, Y/N. What’s the real story? Are you some kind of ... I don’t know, brand ambassador or something?”

Before you can respond, a warm hand settles on the small of your back. You look up to see Charles standing beside you, his expression a mix of concern and confusion.

“Everything okay here, mon amour?” He asks, his eyes flicking between you and James.

James’ jaw drops even further, if that’s possible. He looks like he’s seen a ghost.

You lean into Charles’ side, drawing strength from his presence. “Charles, this is James. My ex-fiancé. James, this is Charles. My boyfriend.”

Charles’ eyebrows shoot up in recognition, but he recovers quickly, extending a hand to James. “Nice to meet you,” he says politely, though there’s a hint of steel in his voice.

James just stares at the offered hand, then back at you, then at Charles again. “This ... this is a joke, right? Some kind of prank?”

Charles drops his hand, frowning. “I assure you, it’s not a joke. Y/N and I have been together for over two years now.”

James shakes his head vehemently. “No. No way. This doesn’t make any sense. Y/N, what are you playing at?”

You feel your patience snap. “I’m not playing at anything. Charles and I are together. We’re happy. I’m sorry if that’s difficult for you to comprehend, but it’s the truth.”

“But ... but how?” James sputters. “How did this even happen?”

Charles tightens his arm around you, a small smirk playing at his lips. “Well, if you must know, I found her wandering the streets in a wedding dress, crying her eyes out because her fiancé was a cheating bastard.”

James blanches, his face turning an interesting shade of purple. “That’s ... that’s not ... you can’t just ...”

“Can’t what?” You challenge, feeling emboldened by Charles’ support. “Can’t move on? Can’t find happiness with someone who actually respects me? Can’t build a life that doesn’t revolve around you?”

A small crowd has started to gather, attracted by the rising voices and the presence of Charles Leclerc. You can see people whispering, phones discreetly pointed in your direction.

James seems to notice the attention too, his eyes darting around nervously. “Look, Y/N, I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing here, but-”

“It’s not a game,” you interrupt, your voice firm. “This is my life. A life I’m very happy with, I might add. Now, if you’ll excuse us, Charles has a race to prepare for.”

You start to turn away, but James grabs your arm. “Wait, just ... just tell me the truth. Is this some kind of revenge? Did you set this all up to get back at me?”

Charles tenses beside you, his eyes flashing dangerously. “I suggest you remove your hand,” he says, his voice low and controlled.

James lets go as if burned, taking a step back. “I just ... I don’t understand. How could you … with him?”

You take a deep breath, deciding to end this once and for all. “James, listen carefully because I’m only going to say this once. What happened between us was years ago. I’ve moved on. I’ve built a life I love, with a man I love. Your inability to believe that says far more about you than it does about me.”

You turn to Charles, softening your voice. “Come on, love. You need to get back to the team.”

Charles nods, pressing a kiss to your temple before addressing James one last time. “It was ... interesting meeting you. Enjoy the race.”

As you walk away, leaving a stunned James in your wake, you can’t help but let out a small laugh. “Well, that was ... something.”

Charles chuckles, squeezing your hand. “You handled that beautifully, mon cœur. Though I have to admit, I was tempted to deck him when he grabbed you.”

You lean into him, smiling. “My hero. But I think leaving him standing there like a fish out of water was far more satisfying.”

As you approach the Ferrari garage, you pause, turning to face Charles. “Thank you,” you say softly. “For being there, for backing me up. For ... everything, really.”

Charles cups your face gently, his green eyes full of love. “Always. You know I’ve got your back, just like you’ve always had mine.”

You stretch up on your toes, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you, you know that?”

He grins, that boyish smile that never fails to make your heart skip a beat. “I love you too. Now, how about we go win a race, yeah?”

As you enter the garage hand in hand, the organized chaos of the team preparing for the race enveloping you, you can’t help but marvel at the twists and turns that led you here. From the lowest point of your life to the highest — all because a kind stranger couldn’t leave a crying bride on the street.

You squeeze Charles’ hand one more time before he heads off to his car. As you watch him go, you silently thank whatever twist of fate brought him into your life that night. The road hasn’t always been smooth, but you wouldn’t change a single moment of it.

After all, sometimes the best love stories start with a broken heart and end with a chequered flag.

[starzify]

brat *ੈ✩‧₊˚

pairing dean winchester x fem!reader

warnings smut | p in v | brat!sub!reader | dom!dean

"Why you gotta be so damn mean, huh?" Dean grunted, one hand on the headboard to steady himself, the other tangled in your hair, yanking until your scalp screamed.

"Just gotta run that mouth, huh? That's all you do? Just run that fuckin’ mouth?” A particularly hard thrust annunciated his irritation, leaving you gasping, a gut punch of a feeling to your cervix that had you breathless.

He was being mean, so mean, you'd made a point to tell him that too. You supposed you deserved it, for how mean you'd been earlier.

"What? You got nothin' to say now? No rude comments? C'mon, baby, let me hear you. You were so loud and obnoxious earlier." Dean sneered, pulling back on your hair so you whined, pulling you into his chest. His hips didn't stop, hands moving to hold you lightly by your neck, just enough pressure to have you clenching and whimpering.

"You gonna say you're sorry to me?" Dean rasped, nose pressed to your temple, hands snaking up your throat to grab your jaw, pull your face towards his. "Say you're sorry."

“I’m n- not sorry." You whined, legs wobbling when his hips snapped into you, sending you reeling all over again. "You were the one ignoring me-oh!"

“I was working, you little brat." Dean sneered, fingers curling and pressing into your jaw. "How about I come to your fuckin' job and start actin' all horny and desperate? See how you like it, huh?"

You pouted, satisfied that you'd gotten him so flustered and furious. "You'd like that though. I know you would. You'd like it if I came in and-and distracted you like this? Desperate." Dean growled.

"N-No, 'm not." You whined, your voice lilting and nasally, that pitch that had his abs clenching, waves of pleasure shooting through his own body.

"You are." Dean huffed, his breath hot on the shell of your ear, the ghosting of a whine trailing. "Say you are."

"No." You whimpered, hips grinding down to meet his thrusts, desperate for friction. You were already so close.

"Say it, or you don't get to cum." Dean commanded, yanking your jaw towards him so you faced him, noses brushing. "Say you were actin' desperate or I stop. I'll cum either way, but you... fuck, you won't get to cum."

You knew he was being serious. He'd jack himself in front of you, probably tie you up and make you watch while he told you what a bad girl you were. You huffed, bratty and petulant, making Dean suck his teeth.

"I-I was..." You leaned against his chest, head lolling back in pleasure when his free hand rolled your nipples. "I was desperate." You muttered, eyes closed, refusing to look at him when you grumbled the phrase.

"Look at me." Dean growled. "You know better, look at me."

You blinked, looking at him through hazy, blurred vision, lust drunk and so close to your own orgasm that it was painful. "I-I was desperate, Dean, please." You whined, lip jutting out in the perfect pout.

His eyes flickered down to your lip, teeth baring and resisting the urge to bite your lip. Roll it between his teeth, pull it so he could hear you whine and cry. His cock twitched at the thought, hammering into you.

"Say you were a bad girl." Dean commanded, his free hand gliding down to your mound, fingers ghosting over your puffy lips, purposely avoiding your clit when he knew you were so desperate for him to touch you there- knew it would send you over the edge. "Say it."

"I-I was...a bad girl.” You sobbed, his pointer finger pressing on your clit, rubbing just enough to have you bucking in his arms, legs shaking and flooding his cock, overtook by your own orgasm.

Dean held you while you shook, slow rocks of his hips until your eyes were glassy, body still shuddering with aftershocks. "There she is. There's my bad fuckin' girl." Dean grinned, lying you against the pillows, sprawled out and whimpering.

His hips ground slow against you, feeling your spasming clenches, hearing the wet squelch that filled the room. "Can you be good for me?” Dean tilted his head to the side, tapping your cheek lightly to look at him, hovered above you with piercing eyes and flushed cheeks.

You nodded like you were high on drugs, muttering some sort of agreed nonsense. Dean snorted lightly. "My sweet girl…” He mumbled softly, looking down at you with loving eyes as all of his frustration cleared away.

tags: @urloveada @floralscented @lanadelreyscokewhor3 @ultravi0lence14 @beausling @figthoughts @deansbeer @deanangel @titsout4jackles @bluemerakis @haunteres @vampteeths @rafespreciosa @frosttbitessam @drewstarkeyzwhore @inspiredangel @pointocean @chevroletdean @checkedoutghost

[aurorawritestoescape]

YOUR BOYS || 800 words

Joel Miller x f!reader, Tommy Miller x f!reader

Summary: you’re about to spend the night with the Miller brothers.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, dom/sub dynamic, polyamory, sub Joel, sub Tommy, dom reader, cock ring, cuck chair.

A/n: a drabble, inspired by this ask by @romanarose 💞 aka my first try at writing subby men🫣 kisses to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing😘 Dividers by @saradika-graphics Happy Birthday to Gabriel Luna💕

MASTERLIST

You walk into the bedroom where the brothers are already waiting for you. Joel is standing by the window, he’s tense like a guitar string, impatient, ready to rush to you and do whatever you wish, fulfill your every desire.

Not Tommy though. He’s lounging on the bed, back against the headboard, legs crossed at the ankles, still in his boots. He’s an image of disobedience, wildly different from his brother. He loves to be broken. And you love breaking him.

Joel’s in front of you in a second, his big hands on your hips, puppy eyes fixed on your face, waiting for a command.

“Glad you’re home, my love.”

You reach for his lips and give him a kiss. Your heart is beating loudly in your chest but even through its pounding you hear Tommy’s scoff.

The rivalry between the brothers is delicious, a constant battle for your attention, your love, your pussy.

“Have you been a good boy, Joel?” You ask the older brother, raising your brow, and he replies immediately but without words. With haste fingers he opens his jeans and pulls them down mid-thigh. He’s not wearing anything underneath except for a metal ring around the base of his cock that you told him to put on for your arrival. He’s already getting hard, tip fat and red, his balls pushed up at the base and accentuated by the shiny silver. It’s a sight to see! You anticipated your boys wearing them and Joel’s pushing his chest out proudly, showing you that he’s indeed been a very good boy.

You give him your widest smile and then a longer kiss. Joel moans when your hand grazes his member and you gush at this sound.

Getting impatient you take Joel by the hand and lead him to the bed. Stopping at the foot of the bed you glare at Tommy and your cold voice rings in the quiet bedroom.

“Take your boots off my bed. Now.”

Your tone is full of steel and disappointment. Tommy’s eyes get dark. He loves testing you, loves when you degrade him. The praise is always sweeter after a little bit of scolding. He smirks but moves his feet off the bed and then bucks his hips. ‘Is the brat getting hard?’ you wonder. Or is he taunting you with another act of disobedience.

“Show me,” you command, pointing at his crotch with your chin. Tommy takes his time, unzipping his jeans, and then he pulls his cock and balls out. His member is semi hard, free of the ring.

“I ain’t wearing that thing,” he throws at you, holding your heavy stare. His expression screams defiance.

In your peripheral vision you notice Joel shaking his head at his younger brother with disapproval. The anticipation of the night makes your pussy throb, you have so much work to do.

You turn to Joel and take his hand again before leading him to the side of the bed.

”Let me help you, sweetheart,“ you purr to the man twice your size and bend down to take his jeans off completely. Then you motion for him to lie down. He immediately follows your order and soon he’s lying next to his brother, naked from the waist down.

Your tongue slides over your lower lip as you ogle the man splayed in front of you. Joel’s ringed cock is standing proudly, drooling precum down the shaft, and you can’t wait to taste it, to come on it.

“Joel, baby, I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good tonight.”

“Yes, please, my love.” Your words make Joel squirm on the bed and his cock bobs cheerfully while his balls pulsate with the rhythm of his heartbeat.

“Now you, Tommy,” you snap your eyes at his brother, “you’ve been bad. Very bad. And bad dogs don’t get to sleep in the mistress’ bed. Chair!”

Tommy’s fiery eyes are boring into you but his member betrays him. A clear drop of pre cum beads on his pink slit and you gloat,

“Aww, look at your poor dick, crying for my pussy. Bet he’s sorry that he’s attached to such a brat.”

Tommy gets up, mumbling something incoherent, and walks to the chair, standing in the corner of the room. He takes the “bad boy’s seat“ and throws his thighs wide, his cock stiff, leaking on his jeans.

You sit next to Joel and caress his wet shaft with your index finger and thumb, slowly gliding them up and down. Joel’s hips fly up but you shush him and look at Tommy.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen tonight. I’m gonna ride Joel’s face because only good boys get to taste my sweet pussy.”

Joel licks his lips and a low growl simmers in his chest.

“Then I’m gonna take his ring off and suck his cock and balls. He can fuck my throat too if he wants.” Joel stirs impatiently on the bed while you continue pumping his cock with two fingers.

“And I’m gonna let him come into my sloppy, tight pussy. Would you love to fill me up, Joel?”

The older brother eagerly nods, almost choking on his words, “Yes, my love, yes—please—yes.”

”And you, Tommy, are gonna watch until you’re desperate. Until you don’t want to behave like a brat anymore. Until you beg for my cunt.”

Thank you for reading! Leave a comment and reblog if you enjoyed the story <3

MASTERLIST

Tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk @pascaltesfaye @fruityreads @itwasntimethatdidit40 @huskyfox5

[maypiles]

Pick A Pile: What is your justice?⚖️

❗This is a collective reading so take what resonates and leave what does not. Please do not force the reading. Be careful of scammers I'll never reach out to you to ask for money or personal readings❗

Okay, listen up, darlings. After that vision of New York City and Lady Liberty gracing me like the queen I am, I just knew Spirit was screaming at me to dig into this. Justice, karma, the scales tipping—whatever you want to call it—it’s all connected, and I had to know what’s up with my collective. What’s your justice? What’s the tea on your karmic comeback or payback? Because let me tell you, when Lady Liberty herself makes a cameo in my dreams, it’s not just a vibe; it’s a cosmic declaration. Buckle up; the universe is about to spill.

Pile One

Pile one, this is a BIG moment, and I can’t even begin to stress it enough, okay? So first, let’s just dive into what Spirit wants you to know because there’s a whole lot going on, and I feel like the universe is throwing a whole deck of cards down on the table—your table. The message is loud and clear, baby.

First thing I’m hearing—there’s this vibe of someone talking behind your back. Ugh, I hate it. It's like there’s this sneaky energy, maybe some people trying to paint you in a certain light, and I'm hearing ‘final chapter.’ Yeah, you’re at the end of something—something major. You’ve been going through it, whether emotionally, financially, or just in general, and Spirit’s telling me you’re about to face your justice. But here’s the thing, babe—this is karma, okay? Whether it's real debt or energetic debt, whatever happened in the past, the universe is balancing the scales.

I’m seeing cards like the 5 of Pentacles reversed, Page of Pentacles, 4 of Cups, 5 of Swords reversed, and 5 of Cups. Like, I’m getting this feeling that maybe you’ve been struggling, feeling left out in the cold, or just like the universe is not on your side. But here’s the thing: the 5 of Pentacles reversed is showing me that things are changing for you. I’m hearing recovery, and it feels like you’ve been through hell, but baby, the tides are shifting. Spirit is telling me you're in the process of paying for some past mistakes, but there is a lesson here, and it’s going to help you rise.

Then there’s the King of Wands and Hanged Man—and I gotta say, it’s like, there’s this person in your life or this energy where you’ve been putting on this strong, ‘I’m untouchable’ vibe, but deep down you’re realizing something has to change. You’ve been in limbo—stuck in this weird cycle, indecisive, unsure of your next move. You’ve been trying to juggle everything—2 Pentacles—and it’s like, what was once in balance is now all over the place. It’s time for a shift.

Now, the World reversed and the 7 of Cups hit me hard because something is incomplete, and there's confusion surrounding it. It’s like you're getting a new perspective on everything, but there’s still this cloudiness, something hidden, or a situation that hasn’t fully unfolded yet. Don’t worry, you’re seeing it all soon. Trust me, things are coming to light. Spirit is saying, “Hold your ground,” with the 7 of Wands, because there’s a big payoff coming with the Ace of Pentacles and 10 of Pentacles—yes, I said it, big money and stability! You just have to keep pushing through this current energy, even if it feels like a struggle right now.

But let’s talk about that 10 of Swords, Moon reversed, and the 5 of Wands. This is heavy. There is some serious betrayal energy here, something that’s cut you deep, but it's also like, you’re breaking free from whatever chains have held you. The truth is coming out—especially with the Moon reversed. You’ve been through the battle, now it’s about overcoming the chaos and moving forward. The 10 of Cups reversed—yep, love life might be in the pits for some of you right now, and you’re feeling emotionally drained, but there’s healing ahead, okay?

So here’s what Spirit wants you to know, Pile one: You are facing your justice. The scales are balancing, and yes, there’s been some messy, dark energy from the past—but now? You are stepping into your new chapter. You are paying your debts, emotionally or otherwise. But trust me when I say, after the storm comes your victory. You’ve been through the struggle, but now you are about to reap the rewards of that hard work. The universe is testing your resilience, and, baby, you’re gonna come out stronger than ever.

So what is your justice?

Your justice? Oh, it’s sweet, isn’t it? Karmic cleansing, honey. All that betrayal and shady business? Watch it unravel like a cheap sweater. You’re cutting ties, reclaiming your voice, and stepping into your power. They thought they could keep you in the dark, but surprise! You're the High Priestess, babe—illusions shattered, truths exposed. Their little games backfired, and you? You’re thriving. Justice? Served. Cold, delicious, and with a side of don’t mess with me.

Pile Two

All right, okay, my loves Pile 2, let’s get into this, because I am picking up on a lot, and I need you to listen closely. This feels like a moment for you—like the universe is standing right in front of you, waiting for you to make some decisions. And baby, let me tell you, these are big ones. I feel like you’re in a position where you’re about to turn the page—the past is behind you, and you’re stepping into something new. But let me break it down for you.

So first thing I’m feeling, my foot starts itching—I don’t know why that’s happening, but Spirit is giving me the strong vibe that you’re either about to travel or visit someone. More likely, it’s a visit, and I’m getting that this is connected to family or someone who’s just returned from a visit. Whatever it is, it’s coming soon. It could even be a recent visit, like you’re still processing it. There’s something here, and it feels important.

Now let’s talk about what I’m seeing in my mind’s eye. I see a crow—I know it’s a crow, but also it’s black and dark like it has this shadowy presence. It’s standing on the bank of a river or water—maybe even in a park. There’s sunlight, and I’m seeing this bird looking around. Spirit’s telling me that there’s a symbolic energy here—crows are messengers. You’re receiving a message, Pile 2, and this is a time of transition, of choosing your path, like the bird flying away to where it’s meant to be. It feels like a time for you to decide—are you staying where you are, or are you flying away?

And then, I hear the word ‘rosemary’, and it’s so significant right now. It could be something as simple as you needing to protect your energy, cleanse your space, or work with rosemary in some way—whether it’s spiritual or practical. Rosemary is a protector, a cleanser, and it feels like you are being called to do this now. There’s some protection needed here, especially if you’re feeling drained or unsure about things.

But let’s talk about the shift, because there is a huge shift happening. With the 2 of Wands reversed and the Devil, I’m getting that you’re in a place where you’ve been stuck, possibly bound to something toxic—something holding you back. And I feel like you’re at a breaking point. You’ve been grappling with this decision, right? Whether it’s leaving something behind or moving forward, the universe is saying—you are finally choosing your happiness. You’re turning away from the past and stepping into something new. And yes, panic attacks could be a thing here, like anxiety around this change. But trust me, babe, Spirit’s saying, this is your time.

So, when I see the 6 of Pentacles, 7 of Pentacles, and the Page of Swords reversed, I’m getting that you’ve been working hard, trying to balance things out. But right now, there’s something off—you might be feeling drained, like you’re giving too much and not receiving enough. It’s like you’ve been planting seeds, but you’re not seeing the rewards yet. Spirit’s saying, you’re about to see your harvest, but you need to clear the air first.

I’m also seeing the Queen of Pentacles, 4 of Cups, and the Sun, and here’s the thing: you’ve been in this emotional space where maybe you’ve been unfulfilled. Like, you’ve had everything you need, but something’s still missing. You’ve been looking at things and saying, “Is this it?” Spirit is telling me: you are about to get your answer. You’re about to step into the light. The Sun is coming for you—this is happiness, healing, and clarity.

But there’s also the 4 of Swords reversed, Fool reversed, and 7 of Wands reversed, and listen, I feel the resistance. There’s some fear here, some hesitation to take that first step forward. You’ve been in your head, feeling unsure, but let me tell you: it’s time to act. The 7 of Wands reversed is telling me that maybe you’ve been defensive, maybe you’ve been holding back, but it’s time to stop fighting yourself and just go. There’s so much fear around the unknown right now, but you’re being called to release it.

Now, I’m seeing the 3 of Cups, 3 of Swords, and 2 of Cups reversed, and there’s a lot of emotional healing here. I feel like you’ve been hurt in the past, possibly by a relationship or a close friendship, and it’s been hard to let go. Spirit’s saying, you’re healing from that. You’re moving on, even if it feels painful right now. Your heart is healing, babe, and you’re opening yourself up to something new.

And then the King of Pentacles, 3 of Pentacles, and Moon reversed show me that there’s stability coming. You’re about to start building something solid, something real. There’s clarity on the way, and it’s like the Moon reversed is all about revealing hidden truths. Whatever was hidden, whether it was in your relationships, your work, or within yourself, it’s about to come to light.

So, I’m hearing it loud and clear now, Pile two: you are in the middle of a major shift. You’re deciding to turn your back on the past and choose your happiness. There are fears, there’s resistance, and there’s pain—but Spirit is saying, the clarity is coming, the healing is coming, and you are stepping into your power. You’re being guided to protect your energy—use rosemary, cleanse, reset. Trust that the universe has your back, and soon, you’ll be standing on solid ground, feeling like yourself again.

So what is your justice?

Ah, your justice is glow-up revenge. You’re untouchable, darling, and they’re left watching from the sidelines as you rise. Their attempts to block you? Laughable. The wheel is spinning in your favor, and the universe is handing you blessings while their lives turn into a slow-motion disaster. You’re stepping into abundance and alignment, and let’s be honest, it’s about time. They’ll choke on their envy, but don’t worry—you’re too busy being fabulous to care.

Pile Three

All right, my gorgeous Pile 3, let’s get into it. I’m feeling this is a deep reading, like we’re diving into some serious energy here. First off, I’m picking up something huge. You might be connected to the New York dream I channeled in a previous post—whether you’re from New York, visited, or that place has some significance for you. I’m also hearing dreams, and I feel like some of you are having prophetic dreams or visions that are part of your spiritual journey. Spirit is coming through strong right now, so pay attention.

You’re in a phase right now where the Wheel of Fortune is spinning for you. Fate is at play, and I feel like everything that’s been happening is part of a bigger plan—this is your spiritual path, Pile 3. It’s like the universe is pushing you forward, and there’s a reason for every challenge you’re going through. There’s something bigger unfolding here, and your journey is truly aligning with your higher self.

Now, Spirit keeps telling me choices in love, so let’s dive into that for a minute. I don’t know who you’re dealing with right now, but you’ve got choices—multiple options, different energies around you. But let’s get into the cleansing bit. It feels like you’re releasing a lot. There's a need to clear out some heavy stuff that’s been weighing you down, especially emotionally and mentally. I’m talking about the 10 of Wands reversed, where the burdens are finally being lifted, but you’ve been carrying them for a long time. You're letting go of things, people, situations, and ideas that no longer serve your highest good. It’s like Spirit is telling you to finally breathe again. Let the weight off.

But I see Ace of Swords reversed, Knight of Pentacles reversed, Knight of Cups reversed, and Queen of Pentacles challenge, and there’s this sense of miscommunication, lack of clarity, and maybe even feeling stuck in a place where you’ve been waiting for answers that aren’t coming. Like, it feels like you've been trying to move forward, but you're hitting roadblocks, especially in your career, relationships, and your sense of security. It's been difficult, but Spirit is saying—you're breaking free from this soon. It’s part of the cleansing process. The delays are just preparing you for the next chapter.

Then I’m seeing Justice here, and yes, this is it. The justice you’re seeking is coming through, especially with the 7 of Swords and 5 of Wands. If there’s been any deception or betrayal, or if you’ve been involved in conflict—whether with people, or even just within yourself—Spirit is saying you will be vindicated. You will receive what’s yours. The energy is shifting, and the balance is about to be restored. It’s coming through in your choices in love and in life—whatever this injustice was, it’s clearing up now.

The 7 of Pentacles and 3 of Pentacles indicate that you’ve been waiting for rewards, for your effort to pay off, and Spirit is saying that it’s on its way. You've planted the seeds, and now you're just waiting for things to fall into place. You’ve been patient, working on yourself, on your dreams, on your future. It’s all going to pay off. But with the 2 of Wands challenge and the Knight of Wands reversed, Spirit says there's still this hesitation, this fear of moving forward. But you need to let go of the fear. It’s holding you back.

But I see the Chariot reversed and the 10 of Cups challenge, and it’s clear: you’ve been struggling with your direction—like you’re not fully sure where you're headed, and it’s affecting your emotional state. There’s been an emotional imbalance here, and it’s holding up the momentum you need to push forward. You’re questioning if happiness is even possible right now. There’s been sadness, regret (5 of Cups), but Spirit is coming through to tell you don’t stay stuck in the past. Things will change once you step out of this emotional rut.

And I can feel the Moon reversed—this is clarity. There’s stuff that’s been hidden in the dark, and it’s about to come to light. If there’s been confusion, if you’ve felt like you can’t see the truth, that’s changing. Truth is coming through, and it’ll be like a weight lifted off your shoulders.

Now let’s talk about the Devil energy. I feel like you’ve been breaking free from toxic cycles—whether it’s toxic relationships, bad habits, or something that’s just drained your energy. You're cleansing this out. This is part of your transformation, and with the 4 of Swords reversed, Spirit is saying you need to rest but also push through this final phase of your healing. It’s time to let go, to forgive, to release.

With the 6 of Wands, Page of Wands, and 8 of Pentacles, Spirit is showing me that there’s victory coming your way. Success is ahead, and it feels like you’re going to stand tall soon—your efforts will be recognized, especially in your work and personal growth. There’s excitement, enthusiasm, and the energy of new beginnings ahead. You're going to feel like you're winning again. You're moving forward with renewed purpose.

And the Wheel of Fortune? Oh, yes. This is fated. This is your turning point. Things are finally aligning, and the High Priestess challenge is saying that the mysteries you’ve been dealing with will soon be revealed. Secrets will come out, intuition will be clearer, and your path will be illuminated.

The Tower and Fool reversed—yes, I feel this chaos energy. Something might shake up your world soon, but it’s necessary for your growth. It’s going to feel like a sudden change, but trust it. This is the universe breaking down what no longer serves you, so you can step into something better. Don't resist the shift.

Finally, with the 3 of Cups, Queen of Wands, 7 of Cups, and Ace of Pentacles, there’s celebration and new beginnings on the horizon. You're going to be feeling more confident, more sure of yourself, and ready to embrace your future. And yes, there’s a new opportunity waiting for you that’s going to make all of this worth it.

So what is your justice?

Oh, pile 3 my loves, your justice is that they can’t escape their mess. You’re out here cleansing your energy, minding your business, and meanwhile, they’re drowning in their own chaos. It’s giving what goes around comes around, but with a spiritual twist. Their lies? Exposed. Their manipulations? Ineffective. And you? You’re aligning with destiny, walking your path, and attracting love and opportunities that actually deserve you. Justice is fated, baby, and you’re divinely protected.

Pile Four

Hello, Pile 4 my darlings, let's get into it. Spirit is definitely making a strong presence here with some serious energy. First off, there's something about connection—whether it’s a need for deeper connections with others or feeling that you're disconnected from someone or something. This could be with a person, a situation, or even within yourself. Spirit is saying that the connection you’re seeking is right in front of you, but there’s an energy of impatience building. Like, you're waiting for something to align, but it feels like it’s taking forever, and you're growing restless. You're over it—there’s an irritation, a feeling like you're being disturbed from what you really want, whether externally or internally.

I’m hearing external annoyance and disturbance. Spirit is showing me that you’re dealing with distractions or people who are just in your face right now, causing chaos or disruption in your life. It's as if things keep getting in the way of your peace and your flow. There’s a destructive energy around, something or someone that’s throwing you off your path, and it’s draining your energy. You might be feeling tired from dealing with this. There’s a lot of frustration here.

Looking at your cards, 6 of Wands tells me there’s victory here. You’re fighting for something, and despite the disturbances, you're still winning. But the 7 of Cups and 9 of Cups tell me you're confused about your happiness. There are choices, possibilities in front of you, but you’re unsure if you’re going in the right direction. Maybe you’ve been indulging in too many distractions or seeking external validation for your success. Spirit is saying there’s more to it—your happiness isn’t about the external, it’s about what you believe it is. That’s what’s going to bring you true fulfillment.

Now, with the 7 of Wands reversed, you're definitely dealing with a feeling of giving up or surrendering. It’s like you're trying to hold your ground, but the energy is just too much. You're losing your defense, and it's wearing you down. You’re being asked to reevaluate what’s truly worth fighting for because there’s a sense of feeling outnumbered or unable to maintain your position.

The Hanged Man is showing up, and this tells me you’ve reached a place of pause, like you're stuck. You’re at a standstill, and things feel stagnant, but Spirit is showing me this as a necessary delay. It's forcing you to see things from a different perspective. You’ve been resisting this moment of stillness, but it’s actually giving you the clarity you need. The 2 of Wands reversed reinforces this sense of indecision, like you’re not sure where to go next. You’ve been thinking about your future, but there’s a hesitation—like, you don’t have the clarity you need, and it’s causing you to feel disconnected from your own plan.

The Moon here, well, this tells me there’s confusion, uncertainty, and things being hidden from you—whether it’s your own emotions, the truth of a situation, or something that you're just not seeing clearly yet. This is the classic illusion card, and Spirit is saying that things might not be what they seem right now, so don’t jump to conclusions. Things are murky, but the truth will eventually come to light.

Then we have the 6 of Pentacles, and Spirit is showing me balancing—there’s a need for balance in how much you’re giving and receiving. Are you overextending yourself for others? Are you being fairly compensated or recognized? This is a time to equalize what you’re putting out versus what you're getting back. There’s a 5 of Cups reversed here, which shows that you're healing from emotional wounds. You’re moving past regret, past disappointment, and finally starting to release the past. Spirit is showing me that you’re ready to move on—you've been grieving, but it’s time to let it go.

Now, the 9 of Swords reversed shows that the worst of the anxiety and stress is behind you, but you're still holding onto some things. You're overthinking and worrying about things that you can’t control, and it’s preventing you from truly healing and stepping into your empowerment. There's definitely a need to confront these fears and stop letting them dictate your actions.

The 4 of Wands shows me that you’re seeking stability, but there’s a lack of celebration or fulfillment around this area. Maybe you’ve been wanting a certain outcome or a stable situation, but there’s a sense of something falling short here. Spirit is saying that your happiness isn’t defined by what you think it should look like—there's a need to let go of expectations and embrace the flow of your journey.

Looking at the King of Pentacles reversed and 4 of Cups reversed, there's definitely a feeling of instability—whether it's in your finances, security, or sense of self-worth. You're dissatisfied, unfulfilled, and Spirit is pointing out that it’s time to let go of attachments to material things or false security. You need to make room for something more fulfilling, something deeper.

But here’s the good part—the 9 of Pentacles shows you’re independent and capable of standing on your own. Spirit is saying you’re strong and have everything you need within you to overcome this. There’s an energy of self-sufficiency here, and Spirit is reminding you that you have the power to create your own stability.

The 8 of Swords reversed tells me that you're breaking free from mental restrictions. There’s a release from feeling trapped or stuck, and you’re starting to see things for what they truly are. The Page of Swords and Page of Pentacles reversed indicate that you're still learning, still growing, but you're starting to develop a clearer mindset. There’s a need for patience, but Spirit is showing that you’re getting more clarity and awareness.

Then we have the Knight of Pentacles and 9 of Wands. This is your persistence paying off. It’s slow-moving, but you’re finally getting back on track after everything has felt chaotic. You're pushing through, and even though you’ve been battered by the challenges, you’re still standing strong.

But, there’s the King of Wands challenge position, which is interesting. It feels like you're struggling with taking control, with leading your life in the direction you want. There's a lack of confidence in your ability to make the big decisions, and Spirit is telling me that you need to step up and claim your power. You're more than capable, but you’ve got to believe that you are.

The Tower here is a big one—expect sudden change. This is a moment of destruction, but it's necessary. Things will be torn down to rebuild stronger foundations. Trust this process—it’s breaking down the old to make way for the new. You’re shedding layers, and it’s all part of your transformation.

With the King of Cups reversed, you're being reminded to manage your emotions better. Don’t let your emotions control you; take the reins and process what's coming up. There’s emotional instability, but you’re being asked to balance that out. You can’t let your emotions dictate your decisions if you want peace and clarity.

Lastly, the 3 of Cups shows me that there’s a need for community, celebration, and joy. You’re going to find people who are there to support you, but Spirit is saying you need to open up and allow yourself to receive support. The 2 of Pentacles reversed tells me you’re dropping the juggling act, and it’s time to focus on what really matters.

At the bottom of the deck, we have the Chariot, so the message is clear: you're headed in the right direction, but you've got to take control of your path. And with the 3 of Pentacles, you’ll see that collaboration and working with others will help bring you closer to your goals.

So what is your justice?

Your justice is undeniable freedom, my loves. You’re breaking chains, shedding illusions, and stepping into your truth. The disturbances? The annoyances? They’re distractions, and you’re rising above it all. The tower may have fallen, but now you’re rebuilding on a foundation of strength and clarity. And them? They’re stuck in their own games, while you’re winning the war. You’re moving forward, claiming victories, and leaving them in the dust. Justice? Oh, it’s poetic, isn’t it?

All right, mon amours, that’s the tea for today. Justice has been served, karmic debts are being paid, and the scales are tipping exactly where they need to. If you’re in the clear, congratulations—you’re the main character, obviously. And if not? Well... consider this your villain origin story. Either way, the universe is working its magic, so take it, own it, and don’t forget who’s running the show—you. Now, go forth, be fabulous, and remember: karma always collects, but a good outfit and a sharp wit will keep you winning every time. À bientôt!

P.S: credits belong to the original owner of the pictures and dividers.

[xcaptainhannax]

Where It Hurts The Most (joel miller x reader)

Plot: Abby swears she only wants Joel dead—until she sees how much she means to him. Blinded by grief and rage, she changes her plan, targeting her instead. Joel powerless to stop the fallout is forced to watch as Abby wants him to feel the same crushing loss she once did.

Warnings: violence, blood, torture

A/N: I know Abby mentions multiple times that she only wants Joel BUT this idea came to mind and yet again i can do whatever the fuck i want SO yeah !! i hope you like this new twisted idea, joel is alive tho so that counts for something, right? RIGHT??

The ski lodge reeked of blood and gunpowder.

Joel's breathing was ragged as he struggled against the ropes biting into his wrists. Blood slicked his side — Abby hadn’t wasted time. When they'd first dragged him in, she'd made sure to beat him half to death, cracking ribs, splitting his brow, breaking him down piece by piece.

He didn’t know if the pool beneath him was mostly his or someone else's.

Ellie’s muffled screams and Dina’s frantic shouts echoed around the wooden beams of the cabin, but Joel’s focus was locked on one thing: you, forced to your knees before Abby, bruised and bloodied.

"I was just going to kill him," Abby said, voice trembling with rage as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Quick. Clean."

From across the room, Owen stepped forward, hesitation thick in his voice. "Abby — this isn’t what we talked about. We came for Joel. Just Joel."

"Yeah," Manny added warily, shifting his weight, his rifle lowering slightly. "Don't make this messier."

Abby barely heard them. She glanced down at you — saw the way your eyes, swollen and bloodshot, still searched for Joel — and her expression twisted into something dark, something cruel.

"But that’s not enough anymore," she muttered.

Joel jerked against his bonds so violently the chair scraped loudly against the floor. "You fuckin’ touch her, I swear to God—" His voice broke into a growl, hoarse and burning from the earlier beating.

Abby laughed, cold and hollow. "You’re gonna watch, Joel. You’re gonna feel everything I felt when you killed my father."

"No!" Ellie screamed, fighting against the arms pinning her down. "Please — please, don't!"

Abby barely glanced at her before turning back to you. She grabbed you roughly by the collar, yanking you closer. You didn’t cry, didn’t beg — you just kept your eyes on Joel.

Trying to be strong for him.

The first punch landed hard, sending your head snapping back. Joel bellowed your name, straining so hard that blood seeped from his wrists where the rope cut into his skin.

Another blow. And another.

Joel was roaring, begging, his voice hoarse and broken. Ellie was sobbing, Dina trying to twist free from the guards holding her.

"I’m gonna kill you!" Joel swore, voice cracking. "I’m gonna rip you apart!"

But Abby didn’t stop — not until your body slumped, weak and trembling, against the floorboards.

Joel’s vision blurred — from blood, from rage, from helplessness — until he heard it: Gunshots.

The door to the lodge slammed open, splintering against the wall.

Tommy burst inside, rifle raised, already firing. Behind him, Jackson patrols flooded the lodge like a tide — someone must have sent a signal.

The room exploded into chaos — gunfire, screaming, bodies scrambling for cover.

Joel didn’t think. He tore at the ropes until the chair tipped over, smashing against the floor. He rolled, gasping, side burning, and his hands — bloody and half-numb — finally found freedom.

He crawled to you, heart thundering so loud he couldn't hear anything else.

"Baby—" His hands cradled your face, sticky with blood and too cold. "No, no, stay with me. Look at me."

You blinked sluggishly, pupils slow to respond — but you were alive.

"Joel," you whispered, voice cracked and broken, but so alive it made him choke on a sob.

"I got you," he rasped, pressing his forehead against yours. "You're okay, baby. You’re okay."

Ellie and Dina were suddenly there too, shielding you as Tommy’s voice barked orders across the lodge.

And then Joel heard it — a sharp yell, a struggle — and through the broken beams of the lodge, he saw Abby trying to escape, blood trailing from a wound at her side. She shoved past a patrolman, frantic.

Tommy didn't hesitate.

One clean shot rang out.

Abby stumbled, then crumpled to the floor without a sound.

Joel stared — not with triumph, not even with hatred — just with a hollow, aching finality. She would never hurt anyone again.

The fight moved outside. The lodge grew quieter, except for your shallow breathing and Joel’s broken prayers.

Ellie clung to your side, Dina pressing cloth to your wounds, and Joel held you like he could will you whole again — ignoring the searing pain in his ribs, the way blood trickled down his temple.

Maybe he couldn't undo the pain Abby had caused. Maybe nothing would ever be the same.

But you were alive. And for Joel Miller, that was enough to keep fighting.

[sinstear]

I didn’t see a request thing so if you don’t do that please ignore being mean to sub loser vi maybe ignoring her or just cooing at her with fake sympathy

my requests are always open, i just always forget to put it in my pinned <3 BUT YES MEAN READER, MY TIME TO SHINE 🤓🫶🏻 i hope this is what you visioned ...

vi doesn’t know if she wants to scream at you or grumble about the fact you’ve been teasing and edging her for the past 20 minutes. the second she’s close to coming, you stop, withdraw your fingers from her greedy cunt and smirk at her with that insufferable grin she can’t help but adore. “can’t even get off yourself, can you?” you murmured against her sweaty thigh and watched the way her walls fluttered.

“babe, please,” vi cried, fisting the sheets between her hands.

“what? your own fingers can’t reach? can’t make yourself cum so you need me to do it for you? wakin’ me up at stupid hours of the morning because you need to get off?”

her face flushed a bright red at your condescending words, and she knows she should probably be upset or even annoyed at the fact, but instead she just whimpers in desperation and clings to your shoulder with her free hand. “s’not—”

“it’s not? so you didn’t grind your greedy pussy on my thigh this morning, begging me to touch you until you cum?” you scoffed, her clit throbbing under your touch as you brush your thumb over it lightly. “huh, baby? c’mon, made you cum on my cock last night and now you’re too shy to admit you’re a needy slut?” 

vi’s eyes are quick to widen when you abruptly push yourself up on the bed, ready to get off, but before you can, she’s reaching out and grabbing your arm. “no, please, just—” she whines, fidgeting under your gaze and biting her bottom lip. “need you to touch me.”

“touch you?” you raised an eyebrow, and looked down at her hand. “i’ve been touching you, baby but m’not sure you’ve been a good girl—”

“i’ll be good! so good for you, but please don’t leave—”

“yeah? gonna be my good girl?” vi whimpers at you but nods quickly and pathetically once you’re slipping back onto the bed, where you were not even 5 minutes ago and chews her inner cheek harshly. “think you’re lying to me, sweets, you always say that when you want something, but when i give it to you, you’re a brat.”

just as you crawl between her spread legs again, vi reaches down and you quickly snatch her hand away before she can do anything. “ah see, you don’t listen, you woke me up to make you cum, and now you’re wanting to do it yourself? after all this time?” you tutted and shook your head. “now you want to make yourself cum because i won’t give you what you want?” 

“m’sorry, i just need you to touch me,” vi sighs, thighs already shaking as you run your hand up and down slowly with another grin on your fuckin’ face. “i’ll be good, i promise.”

she jolts in her spot, jaw slacking and eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of you sliding your fingers through her folds, slick coating your fingers like warm honey on a sunny morning. “what do you want, baby?” your eyes found hers when they fluttered open again, dipping your fingers down teasingly and laughing at the way her cunt clenched around nothing.

“barely touched you and you can’t even think, let alone tell me what you want me to do,��� you mumbled with a soft scoff that had her whimpering. “you always did go a little dumb when m’playing with your pussy, don’t you?”

shamelessly, vi bucks up into your touch, pathetic sounds tumbling from between her swollen lips, and greedily trying to get you to do something, do anything, and help her. “stop being mean,” she breathed out, gripping the sheet tighter.

“mean? m’not being mean baby. if i was being mean, i’d tie you to the bed, shove a vibrator between your legs and not let you cum at all, that’s me being mean, but m’touching you now, aren’t i?” you cocked your head to the side and smiled. “then again, you love when i’m mean, no?”

once again, it should make her angry, upset, but it doesn’t, it makes her feel more pathetic, has her trembling beneath you and screwing her eyes shut. waiting for something, just a simple touch from you. leaning your head down, vi gasps suddenly when you’re sinking your teeth into the skin of her inner thigh, and her hand comes down quickly to cup the back of your head when you’re sinking two of your fingers into her cunt. her silk walls clamping around them tightly. “there you go,” you cooed with a smug grin, licking and biting the small marks on her skin. “just needed my fingers to shut that bratty attitude up, hm?”

“thank you,” vi cried out, throwing her head back with what sounded like a desperate whine at the sudden movements. your free hand is quickly pinning down her thigh, keeping it open and you’re wrapping your lips around her clit, throbbing under your tongue as your fingers rub against her walls. “oh fuck! shit, oh my god.” she chanted and pushed your head more between her legs. “thank you, thank you—” she’s choking on her moans and grinding up against both your mouth and fingers. 

humming around her clit, the vibrations send a shiver down her spine and her back arches while her toes curl in the thick socks that are more than likely yours before sinking her blunt nails into the back of your neck. “no!” vi growls in annoyance when your mouth is gone just as fast as it was there and glared down at you. “stop teasing me!”

“don’t make me tie you to this bed, you fuckin’ brat,” you warned, curling your fingers painfully slow. “maybe i need to put my boxers back in your mouth and then you’ll listen to me.”

[euhla]

Stay with me (please) 𝜗𝜚. AVENTURINE

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋. MDNI, smut, fem!reader, slight angst, poorly written smut, trauma (aventurine’s backstory), insecurity, fluff, friend w benefits, marking, bitting, dom/sub, soft dom, praise kink, p in v, creampie, soft sx, unprotected sx, dacryphilia, nipple play, pet names; baby, actually no plot ּ ֶָ֢. ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋. a/n : aventurine is the first character for my actual smut🙏 AND i’m trying to write smut and this is my HORRIBLE first experiment. anw, english is not my first language ! please forgive me if there’s any mistakes ^___0 (AGAIN, poorly written)

Bare skin without the slightest cloth touching each other on a night where the moon shines at its peak. The inaudible of the surrounding nature made the screams of pleasure could be heard clearly. And poor for those who hear that despicable voices.

It all feels like a fortnight ago; the first time two strangers met each other again—you were brought together by fate that bound you like a chain. Aventurine

As fellow members working under the IPC, you both have only met once before. Maybe it's because of the invisible wall—the caste that separates the two of you. He’s one of the Ten Stonehearts, while you’re merely a subordinate who obeys their superior.

In a corner of the magnificent city of Penacony, in a casino, a gathering place for people with enough wealth to make them confident of winning consecutively. The two of you meet again for the second time.

And it was clear from the first night; disguised under pretext of getting money and all of Aventurine's wealth, you actually just want to keep looking at his figure that always looks majestic and charming. Without doing anything, he will always be the center of attention.

The way his hands find the part that gives you pleasure, the way the praises he whispers to you always invites butterflies in your stomach. Everything he does feels like a blessing to you.

“Hah—“ You whimpered in between the pleasures. You feel overwhelmed by what he is doing to you; his hips moved back and forth in a pattern, His left hand moved to where it belongs—your breasts. He squeezed them, playing with your nipples as if they were toys. While his right hand covered his own mouth, to limit the sounds that came out of his mouth for the sake of his pride.

Without you realizing it, your tears start to fall. Whether because of pleasure or pain. And somewhere, inside you, something twitches. It’s Aventurine’s. He's aroused... of your crying?

You slowly opened your eyes. Your vision was a little blurry from tears, and you blinked several times to be able to see Aventurine. He's flustered, and you too.

“Ah.. i–“ He felt a little humiliated, being aroused by your crying. His hips almost stopped moving from the shock, and you protest about it.

“Hah… i- it’s okay,” You try to calm him down. Your shaking hand rose to cup his cheek. it’s okay

Once he regained his composure, he whisper in your ear, “mngh—you did so well for me, baby.”

After saying that, his lips immediately kissed the curve of your neck. Leaving marks that will disappear when morning comes. And he will remind you to wear a scarf or something that can cover it

This time his neck formed a beautiful curve while his head leaned back slightly, his mouth opened to let out a moan. This means his days are tiring

And the next thing you know, a warm feeling enters your womb. Aventurine just remained silent without any intention of pulling out.

You don't care what you look like now. The most important thing now is to calm Aventurine.

“Is everything okay?” One of your hands was in his hair, stroking it in an attempt to calm him down. “Something’s bothering you?” You asked again.

Reticence. Something enveloped the two of you. You still stroked his hair, even though the answer never came.

Of course he didn't answer you. Deep in his mind, only apprehension ran free. He felt ashamed of himself, ashamed of the slave mark that would always be on his neck. Accompanying him every step he takes, while reminding him who he really is. Who is nothing more or less than a slave.

The wound was old, but it still remained and felt fresh as if it had just been carved. And somewhere, in the depths of his mind, there was a great desire that was forced to hide; but i want to live, not just survive.

How does it feel to feel the sun's rays hitting your face without remembering your own past? How does it feel to be able to sleep soundly on a planet in this universe without fear of nightmares? Aventurine just wants to experience the beauty of life without hurting other people.

The remaining human feeling in his heart wants to reach you, wants to prevent you from leaving him. His mouth wanted to say three sacred words, but his heart told him to remain silent.

Will you still be willing to stay until I can accept everything?

[heejake-hoon]

Warning: mdni, overstimulation, dumbification, creampie, dirty talk...

"Awww my little cumdump, are u having fun?" Sunghoon faux cooed at ur shaking state as you were bonded to the bed frame both ur hands and legs spread open with a wand vibrator pressed securely on ur clit, it has been more than 2 hours of torture, with you cuming and cuming again u weren't sure if ur body could take it any more, drool and tears dropping messily on ur face you wanted to beg him to stop, wanted to tell him to free you, but you weren't even able to say that, so fucked up from all the orgasms he forced out of u with his toy.

"Hmmmm? Baby did I leave you dumb? Can't even answer me? What a useless fuckdoll." You wanted to cry, the humiliation making your skin heat up even more. "It's okay my little slut, don't worry about it. You don't have to do anything, I am going to take care of you. Your just gonna be a good girl and let me do as I please, yeah?" Sunghoon smirked as he turned off the toy making you sigh in relief, you weren't sure if you could take another one of his games, not after this one. He unbound u, letting u fall flat on the bed as he got up from the chair where he was sitting comfortably the entire time."Hoonie... no more." you croaked out, voice raspy from all the screaming, the only thing on your mind was sleep."You want me to stop? Okay then. I won't do anything." Sunghoon shrugged, you sighed in relief thinking he finally got bored of teasing u.But oh how wrong you were.Sunghoon grabbed your hips, lifting them up so your ass was up in the air. You were too tired to even lift your head up and see what he was doing, just sighing happily as his hands caressed ur lower back, kneading ur flesh.

Then the sound of a cap opening was heard and you realized what was about to happen, making you jerk and try to wiggle away.

"Shhhh, don't move, my princess. Be a good girl and let me fill that pretty little cunt up." You were too tired, too sensitive, you couldn't take him inside u. "Sunghoon, wait no-" you cried out, trying to get away from his hold.

"What was that? Did you just tell me no?" Sunghoon's tone suddenly turned ice cold and you whimpered at that, realizing your mistake."No, no. I- I'm sorry. I was just- no. I'm a good girl, I'm a good girl for hoonie." you mumbled, words almost unintelligible. "Mmmmm, that's right, you're my good girl. Always so sweet and obedient for me. My perfect doll." You sighed happily, glad that you could please him.

Then the next second you were crying out as you felt him plunging deep inside you."Hoonie! It-it hurts!" you tried to get away, but his hands were like iron on your hips.

"Aw baby, does it hurt? But you were begging me to fill u up earlier." You gasped at that. You did? When did you say that? You weren't even aware of that "H-how..." you whispered, confusion evident on ur face. "That's when I knew you were ready. Your body knows what it needs, and you're just too dumb to realize it. So I helped you out." Sunghoon smirked as he thrust deep inside you, making you whimper in pain and pleasure "Ah-h! S-sunghoon. It's-it's too much!"

"You're taking it so well baby. My pretty little slut." The soft kisses he gave you were contradicting so much from how hard he was pounfing you, sending you over the edge once again. "Hoonie- I, ah! Ah! Hoonie!" You couldn't even form proper sentences as he hit your g-spot with every thrust. "Come on, cum for me again, my little princess. You know how much I love your tight pussy clenching around my cock."His filthy words and his rough thrusts were all it took for you to cum, vision turning white as your body spasmed.

Sunghoon followed shortly after, pumping you full of his warm seed, filling you up so nicely, and you moaned at the feeling "So perfect. My perfect baby." He cooed, peppering your face with kisses and you smiled lazily at that.

[lotusloong]

Nightmare

Relationship: Sun Wukong X CelestialMaiden!Reader

AN: Written in a fever at two am after thinking about the Laozi Furnace...and this little thought from @monkeykingdomblog2 (if you don't want to be tagged let me know!)

Not the same fic I posted a sneak peak of a couple days ago, that wip is still being worked on

Tags: Violence, Blood, Hurt, Comfort, Slight Gore, Attempted burning someone to death, Reader is insulted and beaten up a little, Nightmares

Summary: Memories return as the worst nightmares.

Read it on AO3!

“Restrain her.”

The hands that grab you are firm and unyielding, far stronger than you. You don't care, you push and fight against them as best you can, screaming at the Jade Emperor.

“No! No, you can't! Let him go!” A hand tries to grip your jaw to pull you head back, you don't hesitate to sink your teeth into the calloused flesh in response. The guard hisses and jerks his hand away, and you feel his skin give way as blood splatters from your teeth. 

You can see Sun Wukong struggling against his ties, his frantic gaze searching for you through the crowd of soldiers and celestials. His eyes find yours just in time to watch the guard you just bit backhand you across the face.

You cry, pain swelling in your cheek. You've never been hit before.

Your vision swirls as a wave of dizziness washes over you, your cheek throbbing in time with your heartbeat. You hear a shriek of rage at the base of Laozi's furnace, the sound of the Jade Emperor and guards shouting and fighting to get the Money King under control and into the metal chamber. 

“Who are you!? I'll kill you for that, get your fucking hands off her-!” Wukong's angry voice brings you back, and you shake yourself in an effort to stop the spinning and regain mobility in your feet. The second guard holding you loosens his grip, as if unsure if he should still hold you or tackle the guard that just hit you. The Jade Emperor’s voice is barely heard over the screeching coming from Sun Wukong.

“You! You'll be punished later, not one more harmful hand on my niece! I don't care if she fights back, she is not to be harmed!” The guard who hit you, his hand bleeding profusely from the chunk you bit out of it, silently nods at your uncle's words. 

“Punishment isn't enough! I'll kill him, let me go you cowards! You'll regret this-!” Wukong's words sound fainter as the two guards surrounding you drag you away. You spit, blood and drool leaking steadily down your chin and throat to stain the lovely outfit your uncle had gifted you just days prior. Your bottom lip is split, your cheek already swelling. In another few minutes you're sure your eye will be swollen shut with some proper bruising to match. This doesn't stop you from screaming to your uncle, your jaw popping as you do so. 

“P-please uncle! Please don't do this, he doesn't deserve it!” Your voice cracks pathetically, tears streaming down your cheeks and not helping the throbbing you feel in your head. It hurts, everything hurts so much but you need to stop them-you need to help him-

“My niece, he has left us no choice. Be silent.” He glares at the two guards holding you. “Why is she still here? Drag her to her room and keep her there!” You try to resist, but your struggling is weaker than it was. You can see over the crowd Wukong being carried to the opening of the furnace, still struggling and bucking like a wild animal to be free. You can hear the threats he snarls at those holding him. 

“You'll regret this, every single one of you! Let me free now and I won't kill you for this, just destroy this stupid fucking palace-!” A guard shoves his head hard, pushing him over the last foothold of the furnace. Wukong's bound body disappears from your view, the sound of him landing roughly on piles of coal and charred wood reaching your ears. Laozi waits for the last guard to step away from the opening before pushing the metal cover into place. You can hear Wukong's voice still echoing, the metal walls amplifying his voice to a demonic echo around the room.

“Let me out! If you don't-I'll-I'll-” Laozi kneels before his creation, and within seconds a mighty blaze lights up the furnace, the metal discoloring immediately at the blazing heat. Your own scream of horror is drowned out by the promise Sun Wukong screams.

“I'll kill you all!” No more words reach your ears, just the sound of screeching and fire as the guards finally push you out the door. The urge to fight is still there, the need to rush back through those gilded doors and do something, anything, to save the one you love pushing you to keep resisting. 

The guards continue to push you away, no matter how many times you stomp on their feet, no matter how many times you bite and claw and kick, they keep pushing you away. 

“Let me go! I need to help him, they're going to kill him-!” You sob, hysterical with your grief. 

“Silence already! You're going back to your room, your uncle demands it.” One guard, the one who held you as you ripped into the hand of the other, pushes you and is careful of your gnashing teeth. The one you did bite focuses on body-blocking the hallway in case you get loose. He carefully keeps his injured hand close to his side.

“Fuck you-!” You screech, thrashing with all your might. The guard curses, putting his leg in-between yours to try and trip you up, to get you to lose your balance. It almost works, but your movement leads to you twisting in his hold, your robes tearing under his firm grip. You do fall then, catching yourself on the gleaming floor before you hit your head. You try to will yourself to get up, but the dizziness from before is back with a vengeance, and you stumble again.

“That is quite enough!” The harsh sound of your uncle's voice rings through the hallway. Behind the guards you hear the heavy doors slam once more, and your uncle, green robes flowing with his usual elegance, steps into view. He takes one look at you on the floor and you see the disgust and disappointment settle into his gaze. 

“Look at you! A horrid sight, what has gotten into your head child!?” You meet his gaze, unwavering. 

You do make quite a sight, you're aware. 

Cheek and eye swollen with the beginnings of black and purple bruising blotching your face, your lips, chin and throat coated in drool and sticky blood - your own and the guard’s who stand infront of you - staining your once beautiful clothing. Said clothing is ripped and tattered, barely preserving your modesty. You see your uncle's eyes widen at the sight of bite marks and hickeys littering the smooth skin of your neck and shoulders. 

You raise your head higher, showing off the marks of your lover proudly. Your uncle pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Don't tell me-! Unwed, with that-! That demon in there!?” You refuse to back down. 

“I love him.” Your voice is firm despite the hoarseness from your earlier screaming. Your confession is damning.

With narrowed eyes, your uncle stalks forward. 

“He will die. The furnace will burn all traces of him away, nothing will be left. If you're lucky, this incident won't scare off any potential suitors. Although who would want an unwed demon whore as a wife is beyond me.” The words sting, but not as much as you expected them too. After lifetimes of being told worse for less heinous acts, they don't hold as much sway over you as they once did. 

“He will live. He always lives. And when he's free he'll come for me, and I'll be his wife.” And as you speak the words, you find that you believe them. This is Sun Wukong. Nothing can stop him, you know this in your heart. 

Your uncle looks at you with disdain. 

“His influence on you is too great. You're practically feral. Disgraceful.” The Jade Emperor turns away from you, looking to the guards. “Have her watched at all hours of day and night. She is not to leave her room. Servants will be instructed on her care later. For now, keep her out of sight.”

And as the guards drag you away, your uncle doesn't look back. 

~~~~~~~

The days pass. 

Following your uncle's orders you aren't let out of your room. Food is brought to you and no one visits you except the servants assigned to your care. The guards positioned outside your door don't talk to you no matter what you scream at them. 

The servants assigned to you made it clear what they thought of you, sneering as they handed you your food and darting away from you as if you carried disease. When bathing a servant tried to harass you for the apparent shame you brought to the palace, pinching your skin and yanking you roughly into place. You retaliated by snarling, snapping your teeth at them and smacking them across the face, hard. The others gathered around you were shocked into silence, biting their tongues and refusing to step closer to you or help their coworker. You had growled at them to leave you be, you would take your baths yourself from now on. It's not like you needed to be layered in makeup and fine outfits when you weren't able to go outside. 

For forty-nine days you stay in that room, trying everything you could think of to escape. You try using your limited magic to trick the guards, you hoard anything that seems even remotely useful to help you get out. The furthest you made it was to the grand hallway leading to where you know the furnace is still burning hot. Your uncle had let the guards handle you with more aggression than usual when you were sent back to your rooms that day. 

You hear them all whispering. About you, about Sun Wukong. You cover your ears when they sneer at you that he's dead. You know it's a lie. You won't believe it till you see his ashes yourself. 

The bruising on your face is mostly healed, replaced with new bruises and cuts from your numerous escape attempts and the subsequent rough handling of the guards. Many nights you crawl under the covers of your bed and cry, wishing that Wukong was there to hold you, to kiss your skin better as he whispers how much he loves you. 

On the final day, you know Wukong is free by the screaming.

The timing is lucky, it's when a servant is bringing you lunch. Down the long winding hallways you can hear guards and servants shouting, your uncle's voice barking orders, and the faint sound of your love shrieking in rage. 

You don't hesitate, slamming into the servant next to you before they can do anything and throwing your plate of food into the face of the guard standing by the door. His momentary surprise lets you slip past, and you race down the hall in nothing but the under skirt and blouse of your usual hanfu. You don't care about your state of undress, desperate to push through the throng of screaming servants and celestials to get to Wukong.

You burst into an open room, tapestries on the walls burning and in tatters, tables and art and bowls of food spilled and broken across the ground. As people push past you, you see the dead bodies littering the space. Blood and viscera, broken armor and weapons, battered soldiers trying to circle like a swarm around the center of the room as panicked celestials push and shove. In the center of the mass, a demon of stone, metal, and fire stands as a smoking silhouette. Fire licks the air from his armor, ash falls to the ground from his smoking form as metal burns an eye piercing red hot.

The demon stands above a fallen guard, his foot pushing on the space of the guard’s throat and choking him. 

“Where is she?” The demon snarls. Your breath leaves you in a rush, the sound of Sun Wukong’s voice hitting you full force after nearly two months without him. You realize you recognize the guard under the Monkey King’s blazing foot. The one who backhanded you so long ago. 

“Sh-shoul-have burned-” Is all the guard manages to squeal out. Wukong snarls, and without any effort pushes his foot down. A sickening ‘crsck’ follows, and the guard falls limp, his windpipe crushed. 

A servant trying to push past you screams in terror, and Sun Wukong looks in your direction. 

Blazing red eyes, the same color as burning coal, lock onto you. You don't even notice the servant running down the hall behind you, your hand shooting out to catch yourself on the doorframe to the grand room. Those red eyes burn into you, and for a moment you wonder if your love even recognizes you. The scratches and bruises littering your skin burn with how self-conscious you suddenly feel. 

Sun Wukong straightens, gaze darting from you to the body under his foot, to the molten metal and stone currently coating his body. His facial features are nearly hidden from the amount of smoke and ash covering him, only those burning eyes and his massive canines stand stark against his burning silhouette. 

Even so, those are the eyes you love. You can see the flash of fear in them at the sight of you, of you coming across him at his most unhinged. He fully expects you to turn and run like the others. 

So instead, you run towards him.

“Wukong-!” You cry; arms outstretched towards him. Those burning eyes widen in surprise, but his arms still catch you without hesitation. The fire of his body doesn't burn you, the heat instead circling gently around your battered form and cradling you like something precious. Your tears finally fall, evaporating against his armor instantly as you cling to him like a lifeline. Wukong's arms wrap around your waist, squeezing you against him as he buries his nose into your hair. In the midst of chaos, you find a reprieve within each other.

He pulls away from you just enough to look down at you, a clawed hand making its way to your jaw and erasing around the back of your neck and into your hair. He studies your face, every scratch and bruise left over, his thumb stroking your cheek with a softness others would find impossible with his current appearance. 

“There you are…” He whispers. You lean up and kiss him, uncaring of the ash and smoke you taste when doing so. It's him, he's back in your arms, and his lips still feel so soft against yours…

The guards surrounding the room are shouting at you both, and you pull away from each other to glare. Wukong pulls you closer to his side, shielding your body with his own as he growls and hisses at the guards. The voice of your uncle bellows over the crowd.

“Enough! Surround them both! It's time to put an end to this foolishness!” You see him walk into the room, accompanied by even more soldiers, his jade robes billowing around him. Wukong’s tail thrashes behind you both, his glare a blazing heat. You can see the fear on your uncle's face. 

“Monkey! You've done enough; I am tired of your constant trouble making! This time-! This time you will get what's coming to you!” Your brow furrows as you glare at your uncle, who doesn't meet your eyes. 

In the next moment, a near blinding golden glow steps into the room. The great Buddha himself stands with your uncle, his face serene and peaceful, eyes closed. You know he can see you.

A powerful wave of dread washes over you, fear and panic taking over. You need to run, you need to get Wukong out of here, they're going to take him-

With a gasp, you jolt awake.

Your eyes open to the sight of a campfire, the last embers fading. The sight of the charred wood, still burning red, sends a flash of panic though you. Where is he? He needs you-

“Shhh, my mate. It's okay.” Wukong's voice sounds raspy with sleep from behind you. It's enough to bring you back to the present, details of where you are coming into focus. 

Zhu Bajie is snoring against a far tree, the monk is sitting off to the side as he sleeps against Bai Long Ma, who's head rests in the monk’s lap. Sha Wujing is curled up on his own bedroll next to the fire. 

Wukong's strong arm is wrapped tight against your middle, under your sleep clothes. The fur of his arms tickles against your skin. His legs are tangled with yours, his feet gripping your own legs to keep you close. You can feel his firm, broad chest against your back, his breathing even and slow.

With a breathy wiggle, you turn so you can face him. You immediately bury your face into his pectorals, the soft fur tickling your cheeks as his heart beats under your ear. A clawed hand comes up to play idly with your hair. 

“Nightmare?” He asks. 

“Yes. The furnace…” You mutter against him. His hand pauses before burying into your hair and staying there. The feeling of his arms around you starts to calm you down, your racing heart finally slowing. Just when you think you might drift off again, you feel Wukong shudder. A choked noise leaves him, his breathing growing erratic. Eyes widening, you pull away just enough to look up at his face. 

His bottom lip is trapped between his teeth, eyes squeezed closed as quiet tears fall. Without thinking your own hands come up to cup his cheeks, bringing him close to you. You press your foreheads together, and his eyes open to stare into yours. 

“I just…want to go home…” 

Your heart absolutely shatters.

“I want to go home, mate. I want to see-” Another shuddering gasp, “I want to see my monkeys. I want to see the new little ones that were born this spring. I want to go to the top of the mountain and dance under the stars with you again…” 

You press a desperate kiss to his lips, trying to push all the love and support you can into it. He gives a quiet whimper, his tail coming up from behind him to circle around your back. When you separate, you press more kisses to his face, desperate for him to feel the love you hold for him in your heart, in a way words can't convey. 

“Soon my love…someday soon…” Is all you can whisper to him.