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#&  more a comment to the fact that she appears to only have a handful of years in training
leaentries · 2 days
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through it all | luke hughes
summary: when the comments start getting to her, luke is there to show his girl he'll be there through it all.
warnings: rude comments, body shaming, fat shaming, angst (w/ a happy ending), swearing
wc: forgot to keep track but a lot
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The constant ticking of the clock seemed to mock you, counting away the time wasted reading those insufferable words. You typically veered away from the comment section altogether, but something about the empty apartment weakened your resolve. 
Being away on a roadie, Luke didn’t understand the trouble that plagued your mind. He always made sure to make you feel like the only girl in the world, so why was it that as soon as he leaves, you fall apart? He didn’t understand how the words of others held so much power over you, how they held you hostage. 
You sat, legs tucked under you, holding your phone with shaky hands. Something in you had hoped for better. Maybe people changed their views about you and everything that came with. Maybe you could finally open social media without the constant fear of ridicule. Yet, you were proved wrong once again. The comments hadn’t changed and neither did the way your throat contracted in disgust and embarrassment.
User4562: still can’t believe luke would date someone like her
Fan93: get this whale outta here pls 
Hater365: luke is so much hotter then her?? shes not even pretty??
User67:  this is kinda embarrassing for her tbh
Fan42: girl needs to learn what the gym is asap
Hater6783: pretty sure her thighs are bigger than his…
User3421: comments did not disappoint💀
Hot tears filled your eyes as the negativity swarmed your senses. How could people be so cruel? Deep sobs wracked through your body as you let your phone fall to the couch. You grabbed the nearest pillow, pulling it into your chest.
You felt suffocated. The weight of being in the spotlight and the tense wave of hate was too much. You couldn’t fully understand why people were so bothered by your appearance or the fact that Luke had chosen you.
Though, in all fairness, you couldn’t grasp why Luke chose you, either. He had a roster of beautiful, fit women at his beck and call, yet he was bouncing his way home to you every night. No matter how many times he expressed his love, it was too big for you to comprehend.
So, there you sat, mascara running down your face, sobbing into a throw pillow because random people on the internet decided you weren’t good enough.
❥.
You must have fallen asleep at some point through your cries, because as your swollen eyes managed to peek open, you noticed the sunlight beginning to shine through your living room curtains. For a peaceful moment, you forgot the previous night’s turmoil. You let yourself fully wake up, slowly sitting to adjust to your surroundings.
Confusion plagued you as you realized you were on the couch. Your face fell with gloom as reality hit you like a truck. Swarms of comments flashed in your mind once more, diminishing any energy you had for the day.
Although, as you slumped back into the cushions, you heard the front door unlock.
Shit.
You grabbed your phone to check the time, only to be met with a black screen. Your phone must have died during the night, rendering your alarm to go pick up Luke, pointless. Standing from the couch, you rush to the kitchen to make yourself look busy.
Luke swung the door open, trudging in with all his bags.
“Hey angel, I thought you were picking me up?” He chuckled, “You’re lucky Dawson lives in our complex, or I would have been stranded.”
“Yeah-” You cleared your throat trying to will away the tightness, “Yeah, I’m sorry, Lukey. My phone died last night.”
Luke shook his head at your forgetfulness. He quickly set down his bags by the kitchen table, noticing the state of the living room.
His brows furrowed, “Did you sleep in the living room last night?”
Panic flooded deep in your stomach. You should have known Luke would get suspicious. After all, he knew how picky you were about where you slept.
Scrambling for a lie, you responded with a quick, “I was watching a movie and fell asleep.”
Luke walked over to where you busied yourself by cleaning the leftover dishes. You sucked in a breath, hoping you didn’t appear too disheveled. Ducking your head closer to your chest, you tried to look anywhere else but Luke’s face as he took to the spot next to you.
“Y/n?” Luke’s voice came in a soft whisper.
When he didn’t get a response, he gently reached to grab the faucet handle, turning it till the water trickled to a halt. Grabbing the dish towel nearby, he also helped dry your hands while you sat limply.
In truth, you were too afraid to speak, or move. You were afraid that if you looked into Luke’s sorrowful eyes, you’d crack. You’d finally show the version of yourself that the internet sees, the version that he’d hate.
Luke set down the towel, his eyes seeking your downcast face. “Y/n, baby? Please talk to me.”
You shook your head slightly, pulling away as his hand brushed up your arm.
“D-did I do something?” Luke began to worry, he’s never seen you act like this, “Was I gone too long? I thought we facetimed enough, but I can try to call you more.”
It broke your heart to hear him. The simple fact that he assumed it was himself and wanted to fix it. He was too good for you, the internet saw it, you saw it. So naturally, it was only a matter of time before he did too.
“No,” You let out a deep sigh, “It’s not you, Luke.”
He swallowed thickly, nerves beginning to take over his senses. “Then what is it, angel? Please, I just want to help you.”
Hot tears blurred in your eyes, he finally broke your resolve.
Luke immediately pulled you into his chest, his calloused hands moving to cradle the back of your head as you sobbed. He was at a loss. Not knowing what the correct thing to do was, he held you tighter. Luke was prepared to hold you forever if it meant you’d stop crying. He could swear a piece of his heart dies every time he sees you cry.
“Shh, shh,” He soothed as he stoked your hair, “Angel, it’s okay. I promise, I’m here.”
You gripped his hoodie, scared he’d disappear from under your fingertips.
The both of you remained in each other’s embrace until you found your breath regulating. Pulling away, you swore Luke winced when he saw your bloodshot, puffy eyes.
“C’mon, let’s go to the couch.” He guided you carefully, making sure to help you get comfortable enough to talk to him. Once you had settled into his side, he finally nudged you to start talking.
“If you’re ready, will you tell me what’s wrong, baby?”
Deciding to go against your gut will to hide the truth, you pulled out your phone, now freshly charged. You shakily opened up your social media, hitting into the comment section.
“Here,” You placed the phone into Luke’s hand, “Just scroll.”
Upon beginning to read the first few comments, you could see Luke’s face visibly grow stern and frustrated. He bit the inside of his cheek as angry tears welled in his eyes. Luke felt every muscle in his body tense with hatred and fury towards the lowlifes that would dare to say such vile things about his girlfriend.
He shut the phone off and tossed it away, not being able to handle reading another word of the electric slander on your screen.
It took a moment for Luke to compose himself, taking deep breaths and debating on how to approach the situation.
Now, of course Luke had grown used to people writing heavily opinionated articles and hate comments about him. Hell, he even got used to seeing it about his brothers. But something he never considered was the impact it would have on you.
“I’m sorry.”
Your eyes shot up at Luke’s apology.
Why is he apologizing?
He had his head down, fingers picking at each other. He looked guilty, as if, somehow, he caused all of this to happen.
“What?”
Luke wouldn’t meet your eyes.
“I’m sorry, this is my fault.”
You shook your head sternly, “No it’s not, Luke. It’s mine” Your voice went quiet.
Luke slowly looked up to see fresh tears cascading in taunting rivers down your cheeks.
“It’s my fault for being not good enough.”
He tried to protest, but was only silenced by your words.
“It’s so hard trying to be perfect all the time. Especially when all I’m getting is ridicule for living my life. It’s not fair that I have to have my head on a constant swivel because some person decided my body wasn’t up to standard. It’s not fair that I have to wake up, everyday, worried you’ll realize you deserve so much more than me.”
Luke’s own tears rolled down his face at your confession. He couldn’t quite get a handle on how long you have felt this way.
His beautiful girl.
His heart shattered, “I- I don’t understand.”
“There’s nothing to understand, Luke.” You interrupted, “It’s just the way it is. People who look like you don’t love people who look like me.”
His face grew grim.
“No, Y/n. What I don’t understand is how you can think like that. I mean, fuck, don’t you realize you’re every thought I have before bed. And every breath of air I breathe when I wake up. I don’t know who these “people” are that you’re referring to, but I’m not one of them.”
Luke took your face in his hands, “You are my girl. And if I have to spend the rest of our lives proving that to you, then I will.”
There wasn’t much you could say through the thickness of emotion. You threw your arms around Luke, his own coming to dig into your plushy hips.
“Thank you, Lukey.” You mumbled into his neck.
“For what?”
“For loving me.”
“Always.”
Maybe you were enough for him.
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Honey Girl.
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Synopsis - The Universe shows you your soulmate when it feels like you need them most. When you least expect it, you're given yours - Bucky Barnes. Your Dad's best friend. You can try to refuse it all you like; but the Universe wants what it wants. There's no denying fate.
Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au
Age Rating - 18+
Word Count - 5.1k
Warnings - cursing. sexual content towards the end. mild alcohol consumption. age gap. smut in next chapter(s).
Author's Note - part one is finally here!! thank you so much to everyone who asked to be tagged, and who liked and reblogged the masterlist. i am SO excited to share this with you. i've built this world in my head and trust me it is gorgeous - salty ocean breezes, sunsoaked sailboats and billowing white linen shirts. i hope you can lose yourself in my little seaside town with bucky for the time it takes you to read this, just as i did while writing it. i can't wait to write more of this series for you x
as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3
Masterlist. Requests. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.
Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Five. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven.
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Tethering /tɛð(ə)rɪŋ/
An event in which two soulmates are bound together forever. Only occurs when the Universe decides it is time. No sooner, no later.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
The gentle ocean breeze gives you a moment of respite from the scorching sun that's beating down. You're half asleep, laying on the cool tile of your balcony when your phone rings.
"Babe! Babe! Babe!"
"Lacie? Are you okay? What's wrong?"
"I am freaking out right now, oh my god. I didn't know who to call. You'll never guess what just happened to me!"
You can guess. In fact, you already have.
Lacie's Tethering. It's finally happened.
You're taught, growing up, that your Tethering is the biggest moment of your life. It shapes who you are forever. Sets you on your eternal path. You're presented with your soulmate in a big display of love and affection and metaphorical fireworks. It's supposed to be magical.
You wish people would shut up about it.
The World seems to be split into two categories - the people that have been Tethered, and the people that haven't.
You fall into the latter.
You're repeatedly told it'll happen one day. It'll happen when the time is right. It'll happen when you least expect it.
You're not sure you ever want it to happen.
The idea that the Universe determines the person you're with forever has never sat right with you. What happened to free will? What happened to personal preference? You believe you should at least have a choice in the matter. It's your future, after all.
Not everyone shares the same sentiment.
"Babe, you still there?"
Lacie's excitement filled voice pulls you back to reality.
"Yeah, I'm here."
"Are you busy? Can you meet me for coffee, like, now?"
You take a deep breath and plaster a fake smile on your face.
"Sure. I'll see you in ten."
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"Oh my god babe, it was just incredible! You won't even believe it. There's nothing like it, truly."
You remind yourself quickly that Lacie is your best friend, and that you owe it to her to be happy for her. Personal feelings about soulmates aside.
"Tell me all about it, Lace!" you encourage, grabbing a hold of her hand excitedly.
The blonde girl squeals before shuffling closer to you, pressing her knees against yours.
"Okay, so. Picture this. I'm at my gym, doing my usual routine. I'm wearing my super cute pink Lulu Lemon set, you know the one with the flowers?"
She waits for you to nod in affirmation before she continues.
"So, I accidentally drop a weight on the ground, and it makes the biggest noise. I'm super embarrassed, and I'm trying to pick it up, but it's so heavy. And then, the hottest guy I have ever seen appears. Like, seriously gorgeous."
As much as you despise the whole soulmate thing, you can't deny how happy Lacie seems. She's almost vibrating with it, bouncing up and down in her seat.
"He comes over and picks it up for me, sets in back on the rack. And then he introduces himself, and shakes my hand, and it happened."
"What was it like?" you smile, eager for her to carry on.
"Like fucking magic."
You've heard that before. A million times. From literally everyone. Surely it can't be that magical if billions of people have experienced it.
"Magic?" you prompt.
"It is indescribable, babe. It's like... it's like everything just falls into place. Like everything finally makes sense!"
She jumps out of her chair, hugging you tightly. She's practically sat on your lap in the coffee shop, but neither of you really care.
"So, what's his name? What's he like?"
"His name is Cameron. He's new in town, he just moved here for work. He's a personal trainer, so he's like, super fit. And gorgeous. Did I mention gorgeous?"
"Maybe once or twice," you laugh.
"I'm so happy," Lacie whispers, emotion choking her voice. "I can't believe it finally happened. This is the day I've been waiting for since I was a little girl."
You hug her tighter, and ignore the look you get from the barista.
"I love you," she declares, suddenly serious. "You know that me being Tethered now doesn't change that, right?"
"I know," you confirm. "I love you too, Lace. I'm really happy for you."
You genuinely mean it. Lacie has talked about meeting her soulmate every day since you met her in the 3rd grade. You may have never quite shared her enthusiasm, but you admire her passion. And you adore her, more than anyone.
"So, what now? Are you gonna get married tomorrow and run off into the sunset?"
"I'm choosing to ignore your sarcasm because I know you're using it as a coping mechanism," she tells you pointedly. "And I know that there's a tiny part of you that wishes you'd been Tethered already, so you don't have to deal with everyone talking to you about it."
Jackpot. She's read you like a book.
"No, we're not getting married tomorrow," she rolls her eyes before continuing, "but we are going on a real date tonight. We're gonna get dinner and get to know each other. Isn't this crazy? I'm going on a date with the guy I'm gonna be spending the rest of my life with!"
"That is kinda crazy, actually," you laugh. "What are you gonna wear?"
"It doesn't matter - we're going to be together forever anyway!"
You make Lacie promise to send you a picture of her outfit as you're leaving the coffee shop, which she agrees to with glee. On your way home, you pick up some of your Mom's favourite wine, and prepare yourself for another soulmate based conversation that will inevitably happen when you tell your parents the events of the day at dinner tonight.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"Hi, sweetheart!" your Dad beams as you step through the front door of your childhood home.
"Hey, Dad," you greet, allowing him to pull you in for a hug. "Where's Mom? I brought wine."
"Kitchen," he gestures with a nod of his head. "She's making that mango dessert you like."
Walking into your Mother's kitchen is like dipping your feet into a pool on a scorching hot day. The windows are propped open, curtains billowing softly in the wind. The ocean breeze drifts through the room, ruffling your Mom's dress and floating the hair away from her face. The evening sun beams in, illuminating the space with a golden glow. It smells like fresh fruit, mint, and salt water. It's a haven.
"Hi, Mama."
"Oh, my love! Just in time. I was about to call you to see if you were alright."
She makes her way over to you and kisses you on the head swiftly, before walking to the cabinet to grab wine glasses.
"Sorry I'm a little later than I said. I changed my outfit three times - it's warmer than I thought it was going to be."
"I know! Summer, finally. We've been waiting long enough."
She takes the bottle of wine from your hand and pours it into the glasses.
"You've poured four, Mama."
"Didn't your Dad tell you? Bucky's joining us for dinner."
"Oh. No, he didn't mention anything."
"He's back from his vacation. He promised he'd show us all of the pictures he took!"
She grabs the glasses and floats out of the room, leaving you alone in the kitchen, thoughts of Bucky Barnes swirling around like dust in the sunlight.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky.
Your Dad's best friend.
They met a few years ago, when Bucky moved to town. He said he was looking for something quieter, sick of city living. He wanted to slow down a bit, finally take a breath.
He was out for a run around town, getting his bearings, when he stopped your Dad on the driveway to ask about his car. They bonded over their love for motorcycles and vintage vehicles, and the rest is history.
Bucky's been a regular fixture in your life for so long, you can't remember a time before. All you know, is that it was probably a little more peaceful. His boyish charm is infectious, bringing out the youth in your Dad. They're like teenagers, when they're together. Long lost frat brothers, your Mom jokes.
She's got a soft spot for him. Most people do. It might have something to do with the fact he's devastatingly handsome.
It's no secret that Bucky Barnes is a ladies man. He is without even trying. He's charming, gorgeous, funny in all the right ways. He's mysterious, but not disarming. Tough, but not scary. Rebellious, but not a liability. He's a catch.
A catch, with a taste for beautiful women.
Your Dad always jokes that he's the towns most eligible bachelor. You can't count on two hands the amount of women you know that have dated him - but nothing seems to stick. He isn't Tethered, after all.
Some people choose not to date, if they haven't met their soulmate. They wait and wait, and when the time comes, they're complete. Others take pleasure in dating before it happens. Might as well make the most of the freedom, Bucky said once. You can't help but agree.
Might as well make the most of the freedom.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"Hey, buddy!" you hear from the hallway. You make your way out of the kitchen to be met with the sight of Bucky, sun-kissed and practically glowing. His hair has a few light streaks from the sun, and the faint freckles on his cheeks are more prominent now. His steel blue eyes meet yours, mischief rife in them.
"Hi, honey," he greets, draping an arm around your shoulders. He kisses you on the cheek, light stubble scratching your skin. You throw an arm around his back and look up at him.
"There's no way this tan is natural," you tease, nudging him slightly.
"It makes me even more gorgeous, doesn't it?" he jokes, winking at you. He squeezes your shoulder before letting go, grabbing a bottle of wine from his bag.
"I brought your favourite, Lori."
"So did I," you echo, laughing.
"Great minds, honey. Great minds!"
"You can never have too much wine," your Mom yells out from the kitchen doorway. "Bring it in here, Buck. I'll put it in the refrigerator."
"Yes ma'am," he obliges, making his way to her with a smile on his face.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"Guess what happened today," you begin, in between bites of your strawberry salad.
The three of them look at you intently, urging you to continue.
"Lacie got Tethered."
"How exciting!" your Mom squeals.
"That's a long time coming," Bucky chimes in. You look at him and smirk.
"Tell me about it."
"Here we go," your Dad smiles. "Our two anti soulmate protestors."
"Don't make it sound so political," Bucky laughs. "She's the only one that gets it."
"I've said it a thousand times, and I'll say it again. Just. You. Wait," your Mom lectures. "The two of you don't get it."
"Magic, fireworks, eternal love, blah blah blah. Trust me, I get it."
"She gets it," Bucky echoes. "And so do I. The Universe decides our fate, and we get no choice whatsoever. I don't believe in it, is all. I have no faith in the system. I should get to choose."
"But you feel like you are choosing," your Dad defends. "It didn't feel like it was being determined for me. It's hard to explain."
"It's just so... backwards," you justify. "I can't believe we live in a Universe where we have all the choices in the world, but don't get to choose the person we spend the rest of our lives with."
"It's worked out pretty well for us," your Mom smiles.
And it has. The first thing anyone notices when they meet your parents is that they are undeniably in love. You've never met two people more perfect for each other - which should solidify your belief in the Universe, really. But it doesn't. You can't explain where your lack of faith in it came from. It just appeared one day, and you haven't been able to shake it since. You're grateful every day to have two Tethered, happy, smitten parents. You've seen how hard it is for people with Untethered Mothers and Fathers. The judgment, the uncertainty, the hushed whispers. It sounds unbearable.
"Yes it did," your Dad confirms, shaking you from your thoughts. He reaches for your Mom's hand and kisses the back of it tenderly, eyes never once leaving hers. You look to Bucky next to you, who smiles at you gently. Feelings about soulmates aside, the both of you love these two people sat across the table with all your heart.
"Trust me, sweetheart," your Mom begins. "I know you're against the idea now - God knows I was the same at your age. But when it happens, you'll forget about all of your rebellion. You'll just be happy."
You nod in agreement, praying for the conversation to be over. As if he can read your mind, Bucky pipes up.
"Let me show you some pictures from Italy. I did promise I would."
You shoot him a grateful look before picking up your empty wine glass and making your way to the kitchen for a refill.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
The dining room is now lit solely by candlelight, wax dripping onto the white lace tablecloth like condensation on a cold glass. The sun fell asleep hours ago, the four of you enjoying each others company with no regard for time.
"Oh, shit. It's late," your Dad says suddenly.
"You got big late night plans?" you tease.
"We have Clara and Mike's wedding at the weekend, so we're flying out tomorrow. We should probably get some sleep, so we're not exhausted."
Your Mom rises from her chair and kisses you on the head, before grabbing the dessert bowls from the table. Your Dad helps, smiling every time his hand brushes hers accidentally.
"Thanks for coming, kiddo. Your place next week?"
"Of course. I think I'll try that salmon recipe you sent me."
"Can't wait," your Dad assures you, giving you a one sided hug. He squeezes you once before letting you go to grab your shoes.
You can hear your parents saying their goodbyes to Bucky as you tie your laces, smoothing out the skirt of your dress as you stand. They all join you in the hallway, Bucky leaning over to grab his jacket from behind you. Fuck, he smells good.
"Have a great time at the wedding, you guys. Send me pictures, please!" you say as you hug your Mom goodbye.
"We will! Drive home safe, the both of you!"
They shut the door softly, leaving you and Bucky stood on the porch. The evening air chills your bare legs, salt in the breeze sticking to your lips.
"Where's your car?" he asks, looking around.
"Oh, I walked. It was a nice day, and I'm trying to be a little greener. Save the planet, and all," you chuckle.
"You want a ride, then?" he offers, leaning against the side of his truck.
"Uh - maybe," you hesitate, shifting your weight from foot to foot. You feel antsy, for some reason. There's a buzz flowing through your veins, making you a little restless.
"Maybe?" he smirks.
"I just, I'm not sure if I wanna go home yet. It might be that I've had three glasses of wine, but I'm kinda... jittery? Think I need to burn off some energy. Maybe I'll walk home."
"Like hell you will," he grumbles.
You quirk a brow in confusion.
"It's dark, and all those college kids are in town on their break. I don't trust 'em."
You fight to keep the grin off your face. You weirdly like it when Bucky gets protective. He's always so calm, so relaxed - it takes a lot to rile him up. He looks hot with a clenched jaw.
"Why don't we go somewhere?"
"Where?" you ask tentatively.
"I don't know," he thinks for a second. "How about the beach?"
You smile, gazing at him with a twinkle in your eyes.
"I fucking love the beach."
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
The ocean waves break the shore steadily, the repetitive pattern calming you both. You're sat on the sand, grains slipping through your hands where you're pouring it out through your fingers. The light of the moon reflects off the surface of the sea, illuminating the abandoned cove. It's just you, Bucky, and the night sky.
The alcohol in your system has evened you out, warm buzz keeping you sheltered from the chill. Bucky's stretched out next to you, strong arms folded underneath his head. His shirt rides up slightly, exposing a slither of sun kissed skin. You pretend not to notice his Adonis belt, or the little trail of hair that leads down into his waistband.
The silence is easy, comfortable. You don't get to hang out like this often, just the two of you. It's nice.
A notification on your phone breaks through the tranquility. You both flinch.
"Sorry," you mutter, checking the screen. "It's Lacie, telling me about her perfect date."
He chuckles lowly at your tone, sitting up to look at you.
"This is hard for you, isn't it?" he asks. "You hate the whole soulmate thing, but you like seeing her happy."
Bingo. It's like he's read your mind.
"I don't know why I hate it so much" you confess quietly. "It's a part of life. I can't avoid it. I just think - what if... what if I'm like, the exception, or something? What if I never meet my soulmate - or - what if I meet them when I'm like, seventy? That happens, you know! And then I'll be fucking cursed to spend my entire life feeling like this."
"And what is this?"
"Hopeless. That's what this is. I just feel pretty fucking hopeless."
You're not sure why you're baring your soul to Bucky tonight. You could blame the wine, but you know that's not what it is. Maybe it's because he seems to be the only one that understands.
"Me too," he whispers.
You whip your head around to stare at him in shock. He laughs at the look on your face, and continues.
"You're young - you have time. I'm forty in a couple of years. Every single one of my friends is married to their soulmate - except for me."
You bite at your lip nervously, but refuse to tear your eyes away from his steel blue ones. His face is lit by the glow from the moon, and it takes your breath away for a second. He looks almost ethereal.
"You always act so... unbothered. I didn't realise... I guess I just, I didn't -" you try to gather your thoughts before continuing. "This fucking sucks, huh?"
He laughs with his whole chest, and you're convinced the sound is so special, so rare, that you should bottle it. Sell it as medicine. It'd cure anything, you're sure of it.
"Yeah, it does," he agrees with a chuckle. "It's the waiting around that's the worst part. The unknown. It could be minutes, it could be decades. I just don't know."
"At least for now, we have each other," you joke.
"Every cloud has a silver lining, huh?" he teases, nudging you with his shoulder.
You allow your weight to press into his side a little, leaning in. He's warm, and he's familiar, and in this moment, he understands you better than anyone else in the world.
"We'll be okay, honey," he murmurs. "It'll all work out the way it's supposed to."
You close your eyes, and allow his words and the breaking waves to calm your nerves. Bucky wraps an arm around you, and all the tension melts from your muscles.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
You're not sure if it's the honest conversation, or the brisk ocean breeze, but you've sobered up in record time. Your body registers this, and sends a shiver down your spine.
"You cold?" Bucky asks you. "You wanna go home?"
"Not yet," you whisper. "Not yet."
He shrugs off his worn brown leather jacket and slips it over your shoulders. It smells so strongly of him that it makes you dizzy. Bucky settles back down in his original place, returning his arm to where it was draped over you. His rough fingertips rub patterns into the material that now covers your arms, and you wish, for a fleeting moment, that it was your bare skin instead.
"You been working on anything new recently?" he enquires in a hushed tone, careful not to ruin the atmosphere.
"I made a damn good batch of macarons yesterday," you reply, beaming smile etched across your face. "Raspberry and lemon. I'll bring you some, next time I pass the Garage. You're gonna love them."
"You know, I think the only reason I ever get Mechanic of the Month is because you bring by all of your sweet treats."
You laugh melodiously, and the sound makes Bucky's heart stutter in his chest without warning.
"Happy to be of service," you tease. "I take requests, too, if you ever want something specific. Just let me know."
"You're the best, sugar."
You sink into Bucky's hold a little, daring to rest your head on his shoulder. When he doesn't stop you, you exhale, and relax even more.
"Are you working tomorrow?" he asks.
"Nope. You?"
"Nah. I'm going sailing, finally. It's been way too fuckin' long," he grumbles. "Your Dad's usually my right hand man, but he'll be in Ohio. You wanna come?"
The idea of laying on the deck of a boat in the blazing sunshine with a shirtless Bucky Barnes sounds like heaven. Who could say no to an offer like that?
"Yeah, of course. I'll bring a picnic, if you like. It's the least I can do."
"Sounds perfect," he replies, squeezing your shoulder.
Suddenly, he rises to his feet, extending a hand out to you. You grab it, and he pulls you up, the both of you shaking sand off yourselves.
"It's late, and dark, and a little cold. You ready to go?"
You nod your head, and make your way over to his truck, ignoring the heat that blooms over your chest when he opens the passenger door for you before his own.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"Thank you, for tonight," you say as he pulls up in front of your apartment building.
"Thank you," he replies, killing the engine. "It's nice to have you back, you know. Wondered if you were gonna finish college and stay out there in California. Thought we might not see you again."
He almost sounds... relieved. The idea that he might have missed you if you didn't return effects you more than it should.
"I liked it there, but... I don't know. My family's here. I'm only twenty three. I've got time to move around the country. I missed this place too much when I was away."
"Never thought I'd hear you say that," he chuckles.
"I know, trust me. They do say absence makes the heart grow fonder."
"Yeah, they say a lot of fuckin' things," he jokes.
Bucky swings his door open, hopping down from the drivers seat. He makes his way over to your side, holding out a hand so you can jump out.
"Careful," he warns. "It's higher than it looks."
You grab his hand, and step onto the metal sill. Your foot slips slightly, sending you tumbling down and forward, out of the truck. Luckily, Bucky catches you, one hand in yours, other on your hip.
"Woah, easy. You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm good," you breathe.
He places his hands on your cheeks and cradles your face, searching for any signs of distress. You place your palms over his, silently reassuring him.
And then, it happens.
Warm, golden, molten electricity surges through your veins, lighting up each and every one of your nerve endings. Your surroundings explode into glorious technicolour, everything suddenly brighter and more vibrant. It feels like your heart is being ripped out of your chest, only to be replaced by one that beats in a slightly different rhythm. There's flowers blooming in your ribcage, new life happening inside of you. You catch eyes with Bucky, expecting to see his stormy blue ones looking back at you. Instead, all you see is your future.
Vivid, flashing images of Bucky Barnes fill your mind, each one of them tinted with a warm, rosy hue. You feel like you're being reinvented. Your skin is alive, hyperaware of the way Bucky's palms are still gently cupping your cheeks. Your fingertips tingle with anticipation where they rest on his, itching to touch every inch of him. You feel as if the oxygen has been stolen from your lungs, and replaced with love.
Your knees are the first to buckle, the weight of the moment taking you down. You hit the ground, and so does Bucky, his palms not once leaving your face. You're both kneeling on the warm concrete, ocean waves providing a distant soundtrack. Blood is rushing in your ears, and you wonder for a second if you're about to pass out. You squeeze Bucky's hands so hard, it's a miracle you don't break his fingers. He squeezes back, eyes locked on one another.
After what feels like an eternity, you both break out of your reverie. You lean forward, resting your forehead against Bucky's, both of you panting.
You're trying to catch your breath unsuccessfully. You move one of your hands to rest on Bucky's chest, right on his heart. You swear the steady beat of it spells out your name.
He mirrors you, and moves his own hand to rest above your frantic heart, the other still glued to your cheek. You both breathe, in and out, trying to match each other. When you finally do, it's as if time stops. It's just you and Bucky. One heartbeat. One soul.
You break away from him to look into his eyes again. They look different, you think. He looks different.
He gazes back at you, cheeks flushed and chest heaving. The moonlight dances off your faces, illuminating the moment both your lives changed forever.
"It's you," he breathes in disbelief.
A laugh escapes your chest, surprising you both. He chuckles with you, and before you know it, the both of you are in hysterics, sitting on the sidewalk at three in the morning.
"Of course it's me," you giggle. "The two people that hate soulmates, Tethered together. You couldn't write it."
Bucky grins at you, clutching at his stomach.
You both take a breath, and realise your surroundings. Bucky gets up first, heaving you up by your arms. He towers over you, suddenly close. Not close enough, you decide. Never close enough.
You lunge forward and crash your lips to his. Bucky instinctively wraps one arm around your back, moving his other hand to hold you by the back of your neck. He tastes like salt and spearmint and every kiss for the rest of your life.
Bucky presses himself into you, attempting to tangle your bodies together. He wants to feel every inch of you against his skin, willing you to come closer. He aches to climb into you, sew himself into your ribcage. He'd be content to live there, beating your heart, forever.
You whine, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, exploring eagerly. You tilt your head back, and fist your hands into his shirt, plastering yourself to his front. He shoves his thigh in between your legs, the rough denim a welcome contrast to your soft skin. You buck your hips forward, and the friction is so delicious it makes you dizzy. You've never been kissed like this. It's almost feral. You're both surrendering to your fates, giving in to the animalistic urges coursing through you.
A seagull caws on a nearby street lamp, and the sound makes you both jump. You suddenly realise your scenario. Your Dad's best friend, who also happens to be your soulmate, has you pressed against his truck in the street, kissing you like he's running out of air and you're his only oxygen source. If it goes any further, you'll both get arrested for public indecency.
"Fuck, sugar," he murmurs against your mouth. "My pretty girl. My honey."
"My soulmate," you whisper.
The reality of it comes crashing down like a tsunami, drenching the both of you.
Bucky kisses you again, gentler this time. The tenderness makes you want to cry.
"What do we do now?" you mumble, fear coating your voice.
He senses your trepidation instantly. He feels it, actually, right in the front of his chest. It's like you suddenly share one body. There's no guessing, anymore. He knows exactly how you feel.
He takes a deep breath, trying to settle his building anxiety. He knows that if he stays calm, you'll stay calm. That's how Tethering works, right? He has to keep it together for the both of you, despite the panic that's rising in him, vibrating in his bones.
"How about... how about we both go to bed, get some sleep - and then we go sailing, later on today, just like we planned? And no matter what, we take everything one step at a time."
"One step at a time," you repeat, attempting to pacify you both.
"We'll figure it out," he reassures. "I know we will."
You find the will to step apart, which proves harder than you thought. It's like Bucky's an anchor - fastening you to peace, to happiness, to serenity. The more distance you put between your bodies, the more unsettled you feel. When you're not touching him, it's as if everything becomes unsteady, more difficult. You feel like you're on a rogue sailboat, battling the waves, threatened to be thrown overboard. Bucky is your lifevest, your lighthouse in the dark night. You're not sure how you're supposed to live your life any more than two feet away from him at all times.
You breathe, and smooth down your dress, running your fingers through your hair. You reach out and adjust Bucky's shirt where it's been wrinkled due to your tight grip.
"Goodnight, sweetheart," he murmurs, fingers tangling around your own.
"Goodnight, Buck," you echo.
He leans in to press a chaste kiss to your lips, savouring the taste of your cherry lip balm. He wraps his arms around you, unable to resist. Bucky breathes you in deeply, smiling uncontrollably. Nudging your nose with his, he murmurs gently against your mouth.
"My honey girl."
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jazjelspen · 2 months
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my angel baby [part 3]
(alastor w/ angel daughter reader)
[caution: NOT PROOFREAD and in this fic the reader isn't a big fan of adam so qwq apologies adam lovers!! nothing against him at all!]
(notes: alastor joins charlie and vaggie in heaven to convince them about the hazbin hotel. angel reader physically resembles a fawn. alastor attends the court but doesn't do much but watch the mess happen tbh qwq sorries. )
(oh and every flashback that will be in almost every chapter will be out of order! but will always include what age the reader was in at the time of that memory!)
(tags: @wildfire153 @nevermorekisses @corvidae-00 @d0nutsaur @baalzie @luujjvi )
It is the day of the court meeting.
You have never been so glad in the entirety of your afterlife that you made so many good connections to higher angels throughout all your years in heaven.
You managed to convince one of your close friends that usually attended these kinds of court meetings to bring you along as a sort of 'extra advisor', an outside opinion of sorts.. with the exception of not speaking out and interrupting the court while it's ongoing and if you need anything to be said to tell it to them and they'll speak out for you.
Apparently this meeting was entirely set up so that the princess of hell could present a hotel as a second chance for sinners who genuinely wish to better themselves and to go to heaven. Personally you thought that hell was simply their punishment to live through due to their sins, they had their chances. But then again you couldn't imagine what hell was like to those who murdered or committed sins they didn't intend to for the sake of their safety and others.. so a part of you understood where she was coming from as well.
Although.. you genuinely hoped she wouldn't use Alastor as an example since he most definitely doesn't regret a single crime he's done on earth.
You followed your friend inside the court room, taking a seat beside them as you looked down below where Charlie Morningstar and the manager of her hotel, who you know found out is named Vaggie, were prepping to present their cause. Suspiciously, Alastor seemed to be running late since the courthouse seemed to be lacking his presence for these few short moments.. which you weren't exactly sure if that was good or bad.
Once everyone was seated and all was quiet that's when the infamous Adam came and flew in, god you hated that man. You questioned how someone like him could be in a high position in heaven with how many things he's done it just peeved you off.. but you never bothered to verbally question it since you didn't want to find out if mortal souls can be fallen as well since for all you knew only higher angels like the seraphims could become fallen.
Ah, and finally Alastor appeared by means of traveling by shadow.. several members of the court hushing and murmuring after seeing the power that particular sinner seemed to have. Unlike them, you only let out a huff of air through your nose as your skin began to grow cold.. feeling nervous at how the court is reacting to your father even if none of them knew of that big fact just yet. Alastor then set himself beside Charlie on her right hand-side, Vaggie on her left.
Once Adam let out his usual annoying comments that you mentally muted out, that's when Sera finally began the meeting.
Guess you're right on time, Alastor.
"We are gathered here today to determine whether or not a soul in Hell, can be redeemed into the heavenly realm by means of this Hazbin Hotel." she spoke, voice full of reason and seemed very professional. She then gave the rest of the court's attention to the princess. "Princess Morningstar?"
The poor girl seemed nervous and Adam's presence didn't seem to help much either. With a sigh she began as well "Thank you, Seraphim."
You felt bad for the girl, the pressure she must be under. She didn't seem evil to you at all.. in fact with what you heard of her so far she more or less seemed to fit in with Heaven quite well. Oh poor thing.
She cleared her throat, "Webster's dictionary defines redemption as--"
"Objection! Lame and unoriginal."
Hearing Adam's voice made you want to scream.
Oh and so did Alastor's right after.
"Oh here now, no need to be so rude." Alastor's voice interrupted, his tone seemingly playful yet serious "How may we even present our case if you won't even let us explain hmm? Now that's no fair."
Adam scoffed, "Pfft! And why even are you here smiley? Don't tell me something as fucked-up looking as you is gonna be the princess's piece of proof for this shitty hotel, aren't you just another sick fuck?" Laughed the man, an ego bigger than heaven itself.
"I am Alastor, host of the hotel and a sort of co-founder of it as well! I can assure you the Princess's cause and ideas, as bizarre as they seem, seem to be developing quite well!
Now if you'll let us continue, we can at least show you the progress of it so far." The deer demon pointed his hand towards Charlie to give the attention to her once more.
Sera let out a sigh and stepped in to let Charlie continue, with the exception of no further dictionary references.
You sighed feeling frustrated, can't they just let her speak and present herself the way she wants to?
The poor girl seemed to skip through several note cards, Adam continuing to nag her about evidence and yada yada. While he complained your eyes landed on Alastor, your father seemingly annoyed and intrigued by this annoying guy as well.
The few words passed around seemed to deafen on you as you stared at him, trying to see what could he be plotting. Was he to use this hotel as a means to cover something, to bring in more victims, to cause more pain? You were unsure.. he seemed to nice about it. Alastor noticed your prying eyes and side eyed you back as well with that shit-eating grin, making you immediately look away back towards the princess to listen to her once again.
"Angel Dust." she exclaimed.
"Oh yeah. The porn demon! He's totally worth being redeemed." Adam's sarcastic comments and actions only made you see him as childish. You never really interacted with him one on one before since you never needed to but you have seen and heard several things.. you didn't think he deserved to be up here.
"Well if you know so much, what do you think it takes to get into heaven?" Adam seemed flabbergasted by her comment, almost stuck on what to say with how many filler words he uses.
You then put your finger under your chin in thought, 'Good question.. what does it take?' you thought up your own deeds, sacrificing your life for another, your everyday general selflessness, you remember always helping others that needed it and always defended your father from people who saw him as nothing but dirt. To you, getting into heaven takes pure selflessness.
Adam sent a golden paper towards Vaggie, her voice announcing what is says. "Act selfless, don't steal, stick it to the man.. Are you fucking serious?"
Alastor interrupted right after " I do believe theres a few more things after that if I do so recall.."
Adam practically ignored him and started boasting about himself again. You could've sworn a migraine was to come onto you. Alastor definetly wanted to let out more witty comments but knew he had to behave on this particular day as well. He felt annoyed but his relaxed attitude and smile never let that slip out for a second, he looked perfectly composed.
Your friend, the court member, gently nudged on your arm as a way to ask you if you're okay without verbally saying it since apparently you have been sighing and huffing constantly when annoyed or simply reacting to something.
"Oh.. sorry.." you mumbled towards them, they whispered that it's okay right after.
"Let's fucking see then." Adam snapped his fingers as Charlie proudly presented Exhibit A. Everyone seemed to watch with interest, you with slight doubt and hope for the best.
------(sorry besties we gotta time skip a bit more into the song portion of the court qwq I don't know what else to write heeere im sorryyyyy)-------------------------
The evidence was nothing but clear, his Angel Dust fellow was truly making progress to redemption, it was clear through actions! Maybe there really is serious hope for him after all.
So why was Sera and Adam so adamant in not going further in this?
Your thinking only amplified when the court around you also asked the same thing, about why this soul isn't in heaven then.
It wasn't until the Princess started questioning them as well where Sera was stopping the questioning.
Emily started singing and her words slowly impacted you and as you lingered on it that it made you look down and gaze down at your father once more, his expression relaxed and now more focused on how the situation is playing our rather than helping out.
Alastor was here for the entertainment and laughs, and this man knew that it was just going to get better from here now.
-------------(passing through the song cuz honestly im unsure of what else to add but I just know alastor is watching this shit show go down and maybe try to defend charlie but in a half-assed sort of way.. love the man.)----------------------
Sera's voiced echoed across the court, finalizing her final verdict which made your legs threaten to get back up from your seat again. "I'm sorry.. but this court finds that there is no evidence souls in Hell can be redeemed."
Nono its not fair, not every sinner down there is evil theres still a few that have potential to be here! The evidence was clear! Progress can be made!..
And to imagine all the sinners they've killed up to now.
Adam cackled and boasted more, threatening the trio to attack their hotel first.
Alastor took this to heart and decided to act a bit irrationally, activating his powers as his shadow grew bigger as a way to threaten him back. The two girls begging him to stop knowing that this will only anger the angels more.
"Whoa--p lucky for you I'm not in the mood to fight right now, bye bye fuckers!" With a cackle Adam opened a large yellow portal which slowly sucked Vaggie and Charlie in as they begged not to leave. Alastor on he other hand dug his heels onto the ground and his tentacles kept him on the floor strong and using his microphone cane as extra security to not fall over from how strong the portal was trying to suck him in.
"Geez you just don't give up do you, fuckin' radio freak." Adam's comment made Lute grab her weapon that appeared in her grasp when she extended her hand out, raising it up to strike Alastor that was already struggling a bit to stay in place.
Sera exclaimed with Emily and the entire court gasping, "Adam that's--"
"ENOUGH!" you exclaimed, jumping down and leaping out of your seat to stand in between Alastor and Lute, become a barrier.
Lute scoffed "Get out of the way, you aren't even supposed to be in here"
"Killing him would just make you as bad as any other sinner down there."
She snarled at your comment, resisting the urge to strike you instead.
You turned around to face Alastor with a pitiful look on your face "Get out of here, go home. You're making this worse than it has to." You took a steps closer to him yet tried to stay put so that the portal doesn't suck you in as well. "Leave, dad." you gave him a smile, as if this is the last time you're going to see him ever again. "Resisting heaven in this way will only make this dangerous for you and me. Go."
Alastor's eyes narrowed at you, taking a glance at Adam behind you who was flipping him off before giving his attention back to his little dove.
Without any words he made his powers relax, the tentacles slowly uncurling from his ankles and he went into the portal with a menacing grin look to the court as if indirectly saying that this won't be the last of him.
With the portal finally closed you then let out a sigh, Adam laughing his ass off. "Seems like you got a shitty case of daddy issues huh! You came from that prick's ballsack too?? Did you cheat your way up here or something?"
'I'm adopted dipshit, could say the same thing about you though' your thoughts were then interrupted by Sera scolding Adam who then calmed down and flew off himself away with Lute beside him, so did the rest of the other court angels.
You turned to look back up at her too, an obvious look of disappointment adorning her face for being in a place you weren't even meant to be in the first place.
"_____." her voice made you feel small, "I will discuss with you later about the.. decisions you took today, but now theres more important things coming towards our way. Your apparent father... being a good example of what we need to protect ourselves from." She then proceeded to turn to Emily, talking to her in her own gentle way.
You sighed in defeat, although you didn't see Alastor do anything terrible he almost was about to do something he could have possibly regretted.
You flew yourself out of the court room to the entrance of the courthouse, deciding to walk by foot to blow off some steam.
The extermination was set to happen in a month, that'd give you enough time to prepare..
Nonono-- you can't actually be thinking to go to hell in disguise, help the princess, defend her against the angels in another disguise so the angels don't recognize you then go back home like it's nothing.
Right?
Oh god you were crazy enough to do all that huh. Even when the stakes of winning aren't high at all? When you could die?
Well, dying seems better than living in a hypocritical heaven that was more unfair and unkind as it seemed. Yes you love your friends and your people but.. how could the higher ups be alright with so much massacre and murder at their command, they were just like Alastor to you if anything.
You understood Charlie's cause and are willing to stand up for it.
You didn't want to become a fallen if it was possible.. but you couldn't sit here and do nothing.
You may or may not also be doing this to keep your dad safe, even though unbeknownst to you he was one of the strongest overlords in hell and was powerful as fuck, you would excuse this 'care' you have for him by saying you just want him to serve his eternal punishment for his crimes and not have the second easy way out.
"Fine. Let's get to work."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Alastor was currently holding you by the hand as you both walked back to your home. It was an aggressively rainy day in New Orleans with the raindrops falling like hail, various people running or walking through the rain. You and Alastor were just strolling through with him holding up an umbrella to give you both some kind of shelter.
With you being your two year old self you couldn't help but to playfully kick the water on the ground, it irked Alastor a bit but didn't say much until you then decided to jump on a big puddle to make a huge splash.
"Now _____, I hope I don't have to ask you one more time after this. No jumping on puddles so aggressively, at least only when you're playing but right now we are getting home dear. We mustn't have you catch a cold so soon." He spoke sternly, giving you a smile to make you not feel as if he's mad at you.. at least not entirely.
"Sowy.. " you spoke, your intended word coming out differently than you intended at first but Alastor understood your baby yapping just fine.
"Good girl, just don't do it as much now."
Then you stopped doing it but you still enjoyed watching the ripples in the water.
Once you two got home Alastor took his large coat off and set it on his coat hanger, placing the umbrella in a cane holder and and kneeled down to your level to then take your own rain coat and softer coat off and hung them as well, guess just maybe he seemed to care more than he led on with how he double coated you to stay warm.
He then took off your little rain boots as well and set them beside the door, after that you then immediately skedaddled away with a smile on your face to your room. Alastor sighed as he then went to remove his shoes and set them beside the door, exchanging them for cozy slippers that were waiting for him next to your rain boots as well.. thing is you ran off before he was able to have you put on your own matching pair of fluffy slippers for the cold.
He grabbed them for you as he then headed to you room to find you, assuming you were playing he expected a mess but instead you bumped right into his legs! He looked down and saw that you covered yourself in one of your warmest blankets that he recently bought you for the raining season.
"____, dear you're dragging it on the floor." He sighed a little before picking you up and covering you well with the blanket "Let's head over now, we have some music on the radio to listen to for the rest of the day."
He walked over to the living room and set you down on the sofa. This time as you were set down he also covered the blanket around you even more.. basically turning you into a baby burrito so you'd stay extra warm. He then turned on the radio to play some more classical and softer jazzy tunes before grabbing a newspaper he set down that early morning, setting himself beside you and continuing where he left off.
Despite being trapped in the warmth you couldn't help notice something weird, odd, even to you as a toddler. "Papa.." you babbled.
"Yes, dear?" he spoke with his eyes still glued on the words on the page.
"Red..red." you continued on, wiggling an arm out to touch the sleeve of his dress shirt.
"Hm?.." he hummed as he slowly went to look at what you were pointing.
Oh..
Right, yes, red.
"Ah.. yes.. I must've bumped into paint dear don't worry about it. " he gave you a gentle pat on the head before hastily setting the paper back down again and walking over and around the sofa to head to his room "Be a good girl and stay right where you are, I'll be right back." he exclaimed while leaving.
He let out a long sigh as he then aggressively opened his closet doors to change out of his bloodied dress shirt with a large red hand print smeared on his arm sleeve.
How did he not notice that.. that was too close. You wouldn't understand but he could only hope that no other person saw it.
No one better have saw it.
You were still in your blanket cocoon, too comfortable to move out of it. Hearing the tunes only made you relax even more, oh how you loved it.. the sound of rain even made the experience better to you somehow.
"Blabla.. bleh.. pluh.." you babbled in a sing song way from all the music you listen to. You then proceeded to get bored.. easily.
You wiggled your way out of the blanket to then grab the paper that Alastor left, staring at the front page of it.
Of course you couldn't read for shit, but it's good you couldn't since it's front headline is definitely- something..
'BREAKING NEWS: LOCAL POLICE HAVE FOUND EIGHT MORE BODIES IN LOCAL RIVER BANK. COULD THIS BE NEW ORLEAN'S NEWEST BOOGEYMAN AT WORK?'
"_____, don't touch papa's things sweetheart." Alastor popped out of nowhere and gently tugged the newspaper form your tiny hands. "you can barley read as well, don't tell me you want to start reading the news at your little age." He sat beside you, his signature smile shining as always.
In the end, you snuggled closer to him and slowly felt asleep on him as he continued on reading and relaxing now.
Half an hour passed and he finished reading the paper, enjoying a few parts here and there about it. He closed the thin pages to then look down at you leaning on his side sleeping and huddled in your blanket, in peace.
Ah, how cute. He never was a huge fan of kids, in fact he would've given you away long ago at this age.
But it's small moments like these that made him want to keep you longer, the small and peaceful ones, the ones where you two bonded over things you two enjoyed equally. It's gotten to the point where almost couldn't imagine life without his daughter in it.
Oh god, he's grown soft.
This isn't him, it couldn't be. He's heartless, lacks empathy.. he really does.
But when it comes to you it's like it reverses even for a few moments.
His smile widened as he then gently grazed your head with the back of his hand to avoid waking you up.
He started to mumble to himself, "You see.. a boy would have been the son of another family, but you ______ Altruist.. shall be mine." He spoke softly, a sight to behold from Alastor who is known for anything except soft.
Oh but you were his little girl, his daughter, not by blood but unfortunately he accidentally let himself get attached and now he is proudly your father.
He won't ever admit it, even if threatened with death, but he'll always know that in his sick and dark soul his baby girl was his light. This is why he decided to never let you know about this part of himself that he indulged in without shame.
If only his mother were to see him now, she'd be so proud of Alastor that he has at least made a proper human connection. That he's given her a granddaughter.
Oh if only, only she were here now.
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(thank you for reading everyone! sorry if this chapter seemed a bit lazy or smth qwq I was mostly unsure of how to have alastor and the reader pop in here in there throughout the trial since I wanted to stay true to the show as well but we’ll get more of them very soon!
most likely there will be two more parts after this and it’ll be wrapped up! i will not promise an entirely happy ending for al and his kid tho😭 still deciding on it)
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Text
No More Sad Songs for Mr Norris - LN
Summary: Lando exposes his sunshine girlfriend on stream who might just be the one to change his top 5 for his Spotify wrapped 2024 for some happier songs.
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Lando doesn't think of himself as an especially sad person, he has his moments. His days where things feel harder and after his failed attempt at a relationship he spent a lot of 2023 thinking that focusing on racing is the only way to really enjoy the year in any way despite the obvious.
But the Summer break changed things when he met y/n.
Oh y/n.
He'd never been such a romantic to believe that love at first sight exists. Especially when he'd met her via Max during a visit home. She worked at the the karting track they were using for the video and honestly, he didn't think he'd ever see her again.
Her whole aura was something magical, a beaming ball of sunshine without even having to smile.
Admittedly, he didn't make a move in that moment. A tug in his chest told him even if he did find the courage to speak to a woman who was obviously out of even his league, she had to be in a relationship.
So he let his wingman handle getting the two together. Still didn't happen that day. Instead Max suggested the karting spot for Lando to test out his own LNkart as he did as often as possible. Which wasn't as often as he'd like.
After a weak performance in Monza from the McLaren team. He flew over and got to the karting track where Max agreed to be simply as moral support.
Though eventually after some awkward conversation that was earning more confusion from y/n than endearment. Max dropped the bombshell and left the two of them to talk, or more specifically for Lando to grow some balls and ask the poor girl on a date rather than stuttering and stumbling through irrelevant conversation.
Things weren't perfect for the first month or so but now Lando is on the winter break, he's invited her to join him in Monaco for a few weeks since he'll be going back over to England for the holidays anyway.
She did attend a couple of the race weekends, dodging the ones his family were in attendance for aside from Abu Dhabi because she was nervous about meeting Adam and Cisca. After all it would be hard not to be nervous about it. But the parents loved her and they thought the fact that she lived and worked in England was amazing, because he meant Lando might be home even more often. Not that he isn't home a lot, but they do miss him being so close ever since he moved.
Despite there not being much effort put into keeping their young relationship secret. No one had clocked onto his relationship status change. Or if they did, no one had made the effort to comment on it and given the explosive reaction to his ex from his fans, making hate pages just because she was his girlfriend.
With his time off, he's got back into streaming and he's already sharing his Spotify wrapped proving that actually he's had quite a year of sad songs.
He's streaming while y/n is in the other room occupying herself with Netflix and the McLaren car lego set that Lando had left her with as if she was a toddler needing something to keep her attention in his absence. Of course it worked and she has been working her way through building it.
It's during his music break that Lando remembers how long he'd left y/n on her own and mutes his mic.
"Baby?" Lando calls out shifting his headphones and with a smashing sound, he regrets having remembered her out there on her own.
"Son of a bitch! Fucking bastard." Y/n's voice exclaims before soft padding footsteps near the room and he can't help smiling at her as she appears at the doorway. "You called?"
"I'm sorry. I just wanted to make sure you were alright." Lando laughs then holding his hand out to her which makes her hesitate. He might not put much thought into the lack of public knowledge of the relationship but she certainly did. "It's ok."
Y/n smiles stepping into the frame of the camera and immediately in his ears Filly and Angry Ginge are questioning who the chat are exploding about.
"Say hi to the boys. They've been arguing." Lando states making her break into that sunny smile that he has to reflect the expression of.
"Hi guys." Y/n greets into the mic making the two men explode questioning who the hell that is since they weren't aware of any woman in Lando's life either. "I'm y/n."
"They want to know what you're doing here and-hey behave. This is my girlfriend, don't talk about her like that."
"I've found her Instagram. Well hello there, y/n. Lando I'm going to steal your girl." Filly declares jokingly while Lando glares and y/n frowns in confusion since she can't hear the other man.
"What'd he say?"
"Nothing. He's just being a twat." Lando smiles then looking up at her. "I can see you want to get back to the lego that I fucked up. When I finish up here I'll come help."
Y/n smiles leaning down and kissing him softly with a mumbled "ok, thank you" before she moves out with Lando sliding his chair to follow her out of frame and smacking her ass.
"Lando!" She gasps as he shoots himself back into frame knowing she won't attack on camera.
"What?" He shoots back innocently before he grins while she disappears from the room making him focus back on the stream.
He possibly should've expected that she might come back for revenge so when a cushion is thrown with full force knocking his headphones.
"Ah baby!" Lando laughs loudly while trying to readjust his headphones. "So violent."
"I like this girl and I don't even know her. But y/n is already a favourite of mine. If she ever dumps you, let her know I'm available." AngryGinge states while Lando rolls his eyes.
"Are you bored, baby?" Lando smiles since he knows that she's probably given up on the Lego till he joins her. "Do you want to stay in here and watch?"
"Yes." Y/n nods bouncing a little since she's never got to be involved and watch him play on stream. Or even really in his set up on and of his games because usually when she's been in Monaco it's only been for short stints and Lando has focused on her being there over his video games or streaming.
"Hold on boys, I'm just getting y/n set up she wants to sit in and watch."
"Bro, you treat your girlfriend like a toddler. You left her with lego and now she's going to just watch you play." Filly laughs while Lando grins moving the cushioned chair closer.
"Whatever keeps her happy." Lando smiles while y/n curls up in the chair pulling her knees to her chest and resting her chin on top of them. "Are you ok there, baby?"
"Yeah. I'm good." She nods making him nod before he looks at her for a moment to make sure. "I'm good."
-
There's a pause where Lando ends up playing music and exposing his Spotify wrapped which makes y/n pout.
"Why are all the songs so sad, baby?" Y/n asks softly making him look at her and smile.
"I spent most of the year single."
"Oh right, well then I guess it's my job to improve it for 2024?"
"Yeah, I'm putting that all on you." Lando jokes while she grins at him and that's when he notices how tired she looks. "You can go to bed if you're tired, baby. You don't have to wait for me."
"No. I want to stay and watch." Y/n pouts then moving over. "Can I make a request?"
"Yes. Come here, free reign." Lando nods patting his lap making her shift up sitting on his lap before she puts Something In The Orange on. "Awww...this isn't a happy song."
"I know, I said I have to make your Spotify happy not mine." Y/n smiles then leaning back perfectly timed with the "when you place your head between my collar and jaw" line which makes Lando wrap an arm around her, moving to kissing her temple.
"Oh the chat is eating this up." Lando laughs while she hums clearly more tired than she just admitted. "Should I finish up on here and then we can call it a night?"
"Ok." She nods in defeat since choosing this song has really tugged her towards the realm of sleep and actually she's on the verge of being out cold. "But uhhh...ummm..."
Lando smiles being able to see her in the camera just completely begin to fall asleep.
"Mate, had your lass just passed out on you?" AngryGinge questions making Lando smile not wanting to laugh in fear of waking her up.
"I'm going to have to go boys. Put her to bed."
"Let he know, I'm rooting for her to make your Spotify happier because she's right it's depressing and if you got a girl like that. You better be happy about it." Filly comments in a moment of seriousness from him. "And let her know when she gets bored, I'm always a shoulder to cry on or a friend to turn to."
"Fuck off. Bye boys, this was fun." Lando laughs ending the stream and logging off the game.
Lando knows that actually it'd be impossible for his music to not take on a happier element purely because his girlfriend is the embodiment of sunshine. For him to listen to depressing music while in a relationship with her, it feels criminal to even think about being sad when he's got someone like her in his life.
"I love you." Lando whispers as she stirs from her sleep when he shifts her so he can carry her.
"I love you too." She murmurs hardly audible but he catches the words with a grin.
He's definitely happier going into 2024 than he was coming into 2023.
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delulujuls · 2 months
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tinder buddies | ln4
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hi! i have no idea how to comment on that. i've got inspiration from the rumors that are now going on twitter and tiktok about lando and his activity in sm and i thought man, i need to write something in this narrative because sexting with him??? scuse me??? but of course all of this is fiction and and i dont have any statement on the rumors about lan, mostly because all of these are rumors and not facts. anyway, pls leave his poor papaya ass alone and enjoy this instead!
summary: when you met your tinder buddy irl and realize how indeed world is small
warnings: masturbation on cam (both male and female), bit of swearing, in general alott of sexual tention
pairing: fem!journalist!reader x lando norris
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Y/N thought that she was good at what she was doing. She thought that despite her young age she fit in the world of motorsport really well. Sometimes it even crossed her mind that she was no different from her older colleagues, what's more, sometimes she even thought that she was better than them. However, she admitted this only to herself with complete modesty and behind tightly closed doors.
Apart from the fact that Y/N was a really good journalist whose career was growing at a surprising pace, at the end of the day she was just a twenty-two-year-old girl who, like many other twenty-two-year-old girls in the world, had her smaller and bigger sins.
Y/N breathed heavily as she entered her hotel room. She set her suitcase and bag aside, taking off her shoes and plopping down on the bed. It was well after midnight, her flight was delayed by several hours and she was simply exhausted by the passing day. Even though she was excited about the events that awaited her in a few hours, right now she was just tired. However, she knew perfectly well what would help her relax before going to sleep. Not so much what, but who.
The girl unlocked her phone and easily found the Instagram icon, clicking on it and going straight to the messages. She entered the first conversation and was about to write some prosaic message, but she didn't have time to type out half of the sentence when a new message appeared in the chat.
"u up?"
Y/N smiled to herself. It looked like she could count on a pleasant end to the day.
"I was just about to ask you the same thing"
The reply message appeared a moment later.
"i was waiting for you to be available. i thought the evening would be wasted"
"And yet you see, surprise"
The person on the other end smiled and untied the drawstring on his sweatpants. He quickly wrote his answer with one hand.
"wanna call?"
"I think you know the answer"
She smiled and reached for the switch and turned off the light, pressing the camera icon with her other hand.
Y/N and the boy she had been messaging with for a little over a month knew next to nothing about each other. She had a private account and a few photos, he had a black icon and an empty profile. He only knew her name, she only the first letter of his. They met on Tinder, their profiles there looked quite similar. She has a few photos, more of the body than the face, he has the same, mostly in black and white. They had never seen each other's faces, but they knew each other's bodies inside and out.
Y/N placed her phone on the table and leaned it against the lamp, which she turned on a moment later. The light from it was dim, but it illuminated her body enough. The angle her phone was at only showed her from the neck down. She was perfect at maintaining her privacy.
"New background?"
He asked, seeing that the surroundings behind her were different from those he had seen before. She pulled her sweatshirt over her head, leaving her in only a bra and a thin t-shirt.
"I'm away from home"
"Work?"
"Too many questions"
There was quiet laughter on the other side. He liked her temperament. He liked her curves even more and the sounds she made when, at his command, she pushed her fingers inside her and brought herself to orgasm. Yes, he liked that too.
"Yeah, you're right. Strip."
Y/N pulled the t-shirt over her head and her interlocutor saw a red, lace bra that he never seen on her before. He smiled and ran his hand over his crotch. He felt a chill run through him.
"You look good, baby. Red suits you"
She laughed and pushed her hair behind her shoulders.
"Is this the first time you gonna tell me to keep my bra on?"
"For now, yes. I'd love to look at it for a while" he squeezed his cock and began to lightly massage it through the fabric. "You know what to do, dont'cha?"
Y/N bit her lip and lifted her hands, placing them gently on her shoulders. She slowly moved them down her body and when she found her breasts, she slowly started massaging them in circular motions. She closed her eyes and tilted her head slightly, hearing the sigh that came from her phone. He watched her carefully, following her every move.
"Take it off," he said after a while, "It's pretty, but I think I prefer you without it."
She quickly took off her bra and threw it aside. He smiled at the sight of her breasts. Y/N returned to them, continuing their massage. As she lightly pinched her nipples, she moaned softly. His cock vibrated at the sound that came from his headphones. He smiled.
"Does it feel good, baby?"
"Mhm, yeah" she answered, looking again at her phone "But you're playing unfair again. I have to see you too."
He chuckled and shook his head.
"You don't let me enjoy you"
He replied and put down the phone, quickly pulling his shirt over his head. He fell back on the pillows and turned on the light on his phone. Y/N smiled at the sight of the familiar, slightly tanned and toned torso. Her interlocutor didn't see it, but she smiled even more when he tightened his hand on his cock, which was now clearly visible on the gray material of his trousers.
"Take off the rest of your clothes and lie down"
He ordered. Y/N obediently lay down, taking off her pants and underwear. When the rustle of fabric could be heard on the other side, he easily freed himself from his pants and tight, slightly damp boxers. He spat on his hand and spread the saliva over his cock, feeling it tighten under his touch. Fuck, what he would give if instead of his hand it was this tiny hand that disappeared between the pair of thighs he saw on the screen of his phone.
The girl complied with his command and he saw her middle finger slowly sinking inside her, only to come out after a while covered with her juices.
"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, "You're so wet, baby."
“I wish you were here and licked me clean.”
Y/N said, rubbing her clit. She felt that she wouldn't need much to reach orgasm.
Her interlocutor smiled under his breath, but she wasn't able to see it.
"I'm afraid that i would make you even more wet."
"Someone has quite an ego here"
"I know my capabilities, baby."
She snorted under her breath and made herself more comfortable, inserting her finger into herself again. First one, quite slowly, and soon she added another one. A long moan filled the hotel room as she began to move them, imagining that it was not her but him who was fucking her. And not with his fingers, but with his wet, hard cock.
"Yeah, just like that, baby. Keep going."
His eyes carefully followed the screen and the activities taking place on it. His hand moved smoothly over his cock, his lips were slightly opened. As he was stroking himself, the glass of his watch on his wrist reflected the light from the phone. He wore it every time they cam together. Y/N didn't know anything about watches, so she didn't know what brand it was or whether it was expensive. They never talked about it, honestly, they basically never had a normal chat. However, he once asked her about the tattoo on her forearm, just below the inner bend of her elbow. He noticed it after the first time they met on camera. When it was all over and they were about to hang up and return to their real lives, he asked about it.
"What does 33 mean?"
He asked when the girl started getting dressed.
"What?"
"Tattoo on your arm"
The girl looked at her forearm and only then did she understand what he was asking about.
"I can't tell you because you'll make fun of me"
Hearing this, he smiled. Not because there was probably some stupid story behind it, but because the girl was concerned about not looking bad in front of him. Even though they absolutely didn't know each other.
"I barely know your name, I don't know why I would make fun of you."
Y/N was silent for a moment, glancing at her tattoo and lightly stroking it with her thumb.
"Do you know Formula 1?"
He smiled and nodded. His reaction, however, was beyond her reach.
"I know a thing or two"
"My favorite driver drives with this number. Well, actually he did, now his number is 1. But for me it will still be associated with 33"
The girl explained. She felt a bit embarrassed to expose herself to him, especially with something like this. However, he did not laugh at her or comment on her confession in any negative way.
"I have a friend who is also involved in motorsport and has the same number. Actually, not anymore, because he also had to change it. But for me it will also be associated only with 33"
Y/N smiled at his words. Sometimes she wondered if they could become friends and get to know each other a little better. But then she decided to come down to earth and remind herself that she had no time for relationships or friendships. Now the most important thing for her is work and career, everything else can wait. After all, no one will satisfy her as much as herself. Right?
"Fuck, I could fill you so good, baby," he moaned, gasping for breath. He felt that he was only seconds away from orgasm "You have no idea how much pleasure I would give you."
The girl's lips were opened, her eyelids were shut tightly. She massaged her clit with her left hand and moved the fingers of her right hand inside her in quick, uneven movements.
"I'm about to- I…oh my god-"
“Yes, baby, thats it" he gasped, speeding up "Cum for me.”
She felt a wave of pleasure wash over her. The moment her back arched, she heard a long "fuck" coming from her phone. He came shortly after her, staining his toned abs with his sperm. He squeezed his eyes shut and tilted his head back, trying to calm his breathing. There was silence on both sides for a moment, neither of them moving an inch.
After some time, Y/N sat on the bed and reached for a tissue, wiping her hands on it.
"I have to go now. I have a lot of work waiting for me tomorrow."
"Me too. I wanted to let you know that we may not be able to have a call tomorrow."
He answered, also wiping himself.
“It's okay, no big deal,” Y/N replied and took one last look at the muscled, tanned torso visible on her phone screen, “Good night. And good luck with your chores tomorrow.”
“Good night, baby. You too.”
She smiled and reached for her phone, ending the call. Exhausted from the previous day and the evening cam session, she just buried herself in the blanket and shortly after fell asleep. The next day, when her alarm went off, she was full of energy despite several hours of sleep. She couldn't wait for saturday's qualifying and all she was thinking about as she was getting ready was whether she would be able to get good material.
As she put on her red bra, she smiled involuntarily as she remembered last night. She wondered if he had already gotten lost in the whirlwind of his today's duties. Y/N quickly got dressed, gathered her things and, putting her pass around her neck, left the hotel. When she got to the track and was in the paddock, she couldn't think about anything else. Her only thoughts revolved around what was going to happen on the track in a few dozen minutes. However, for a split second she wondered what her tinder buddy actually knew about Formula 1. Maybe they could have something to talk about? Maybe she could even take him to some grand prix?
Her thoughts disappeared when she noticed Lando Norris hanging around the McLaren garage. The girl asked the cameraman to prepare the equipment and she would ask the Brit if he would be willing to have a short conversation. She squeezed the microphone in her hand and without thinking, she approached him, introducing herself and asking if it was possible to record a short conversation.
Hearing her name, his heart did a flip. He knew that name very well.
"Sure, no problem"
He replied with a smile, obviously not revealing himself, and ran his hand through his hair. The glass of the watch strapped to his wrist gleamed in the sunlight. Y/N had seen this watch before. Many times.
The girl smiled back and, hearing his agreement, gave a thumbs up to the cameraman. When she raised her hand, the sleeve of her shirt rolled up, and Lando's eyes involuntarily caught the tattoo on her forearm. A slight 33, just below the bend in the elbow.
He felt a sudden wave of heat wash over him. It's a coincidence, right? It must be.
"How's your mood before qualifying?"
Y/N asked, putting the microphone down and straightening her shirt. As she was arranging her collar, Lando's eyes caught a glimpse of her red bra strap. He smiled to himself and looked down. He wondered how many accidents and coincidences had come together in the universe and resulted in this situation.
"What? Something wrong?"
The girl asked, not knowing what made him react like that.
He shook his head and after a moment looked up again. He looked at the girl carefully. However, she was completely lost and looked at him questioningly.
"Sorry, as you can probably see, my mood is great. I'm positive about today's qualifying."
Y/N tentatively gripped her microphone. When the cameraman approached them, they started recording the footage and she had no time to analyze Lando's strange behavior. In fact, it was possible that this was their first and last conversation ever, so why should she care about it. When they managed to record a short material, Y/N thanked him and wished him successful qualifications. After that everyone went their separate ways.
Immediately after entering the garage, Lando found his phone buried in a pile of his things. He quickly entered his latest conversation on Instagram and, without thinking, decided to send the girl a message. Worst case scenario, he'll just make a fool of himself, which isn't a big deal since they don't know each other at all. At best, he would spend tonight as he had long dreamed of.
"ure even prettier than i thought, baby."
Y/N felt a vibration in her pants pocket and without thinking, she unlocked her phone. She was surprised to see a notification coming from Instagram, and she was even more surprised when she noticed who sent her the message. After reading it, she felt a cold sweat break out on her. However, she decided to think and act soberly.
"How do you know what I look like?"
"turn around"
Lando replied quickly and leaned against the threshold of his garage. The girl clutched her phone in her hands and obeyed his command with her heart beating wildly. Lando smiled at her, holding his still unlocked phone. Y/N felt a lack of saliva in her mouth. It's impossible, it's not really happening.
"Are you sure we're looking at the same person?"
She replied, having difficulty pressing the appropriate keys with her fingers. He was amused by her reaction. This whole situation didn't make sense to him. It was crazy.
"im looking at a pretty neat journalist with a mad bunda who has a tattoo with my friend's racing number. and u?"
Y/N blushed. Fuck. It's him.
"I see that your jumpsuit is a little tight in some places."
Lando snorted under his breath. The girl wasn't lying. The whole situation made quite an impression on him.
Y/N bit her lip and looked up. She'd be lying if she said it wasn't arousing.
"u know exactly why its tight"
"I guess I have to find out in real life. The camera likes to lie."
When she sent the message, she looked up again and their eyes locked. The Brit winked at her and quickly replied, turning on his heel and disappearing into the depths of the garage.
"my driver's room in five minutes. ill be happy to dispel your doubts"
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utterlyotterlyx · 24 days
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Constellations
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Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary - Azriel can't allow himself to stand on the side lines anymore and watch as yet another male tries to take you away from him.
Warnings - oblivious reader and Az, angst, pining, Az and Nes being cuties, smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), lots of fluff, flirting
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There were constellations in your eyes.
That was what everyone had said when they'd first met you, alluding to the clear fact that you were a deep daydreamer whenever you sprang to topic, which was more often than you'd think.
Prythian bowed to you, everyone in every nook and cranny in any court knew who you were. A shining star in a court of nightmares.
Every one of the High Lords held a special affection toward you, often asking you to leave Rhysand and the inner circle and join them instead. Helion had made a point of his fondness by making a comment about how other-worldly you looked in Day Court gold, and then later on teasing Rhys about how he would one day succeed in his desire.
Everyone could beg and plead for you as much as they wished, but none of their affection could rival how Azriel felt about you.
Azriel was your shadow. Wherever you went meant that the Shadowsinger stalked not too far behind. He would sit with you and hum whilst you ran your fingers through his hair, each touch sending lightening soaring through his soul. He would walk around Velaris with you endlessly if it meant that he could see that almost childlike wonder in your eyes when you looked at the same restaurant or bookshop that had surely seen a thousand times before. He would soothe away your nightmares, allowing his shadows to pepper your skin in sweet pecks as he held you, and he would let you get close enough to soothe him when his own demons plagued him.
That's why, when he stood to the side of the room with a whisky in hand, did he want to tear apart the male who dared to speak to you. Helion was no regular male. But, as you giggled at one of his flirtatious jokes and rested your hand on his chest, Azriel became sure that he could make him scream like one.
Helion was visiting from the Day Court and it was the last night of his stint, so Rhys had suggested that you all go to Rita's, to relax from the toll of the week. The High Lord in question needed access to a couple of special tomes in one of Velaris' archives, you and Rhys had agreed that the tomes were too valuable to allow outside of the city, so Helion had to come to you. Like all he wanted was another excuse to be around you.
Azriel couldn't blame Helion for it.
Azriel believed that you were the most precious thing on the planet. 500 years of friendship and you stunned him more and more each day with your anecdotes and the innocent chatter that always filled the room.
"He's really trying this again?" Nesta asked, appearing beside him at the railing, wanting to take a moment away from the family madness before Cassian dragged her to dance for the fifth time that night.
"Can you blame him?"
The top three buttons of his shirt were left untethered, exposing that rock hard muscle beneath that was ink kissed and shimmering. Azriel couldn't stop looking at you, you were wearing that dress that you loved so much, sheer white and glittered in fine crystals, a low scooped back that fell perfectly on your figure. It was the only thing that could truly take his breath away.
"When are you going to tell her that you love her?" Nesta gazed at you, she'd never admit it but you were definitely her favourite, she held a special spot for you in her heart, just how everyone did really. "You need to tell her," she turned to him and he peered down on her with a sincerity she'd never seen, "She's incredible, Az. She's not the kind of girl you let get away. Go and love her before someone else does."
"She deserves better than me, Nes," his sad gaze lifted to you, you were starlight and he was shadow, you were pure and he was horribly tainted, and he couldn't have his darkness snuffing out your light.
Nesta gently pulled his sight from the dancefloor, making him focus on her by keeping her palm grazing against his cheek, "You're not a very good spymaster if you can't see how she looks at you."
Azriel didn't know what to say, he just knew that he had to get to you. He rounded Nesta and descended onto the dancefloor, barging past the grinding bodies with you in his sight, sipping your drink and smiling brightly at Helion who was stood far too close to you. You always felt Azriel looming, his shadows curling around your ankles always being a tell-tale sign that he was close.
Your eyes followed the trails of his shadows until you found their owner, your brows furrowed at the urgency he wore whilst he kept glancing at Helion with a tight jaw. It was unsettling.
"I need to speak to you," he pleaded, taking a step closer to you and you had no choice but to look up at him, to let those rippling pools of hazel drown you.
"Az, is every-"
"Please," he cut you off, reaching for you but not quite touching, like he was waiting for your agreement so that he could whisk you away.
You had never seen Azriel look so pained, so pleading and desperate. Without a word to Helion, you nodded and Azriel's fingers slid around your wrists, pulling you into a whirl of colour until you stood on a floor that you recognised and Rita's faded away.
The cabin was warm, everything was in place and tidy, that scent burning wood and orange that clung to the cabin flooded your lungs and made you shiver with delight. You had always loved the place, how perfectly small it was for a lone escape, where you could watch the snow fall from the bay window with a hot chocolate in hand and blanket wrapped tightly around your legs.
It took you a moment to centre yourself, and when you turned, you saw Azriel stood there, head hung low and wings drooped but relishing in the comfortable warmth of where you both were, "What's wrong, Az?"
The only light illuminating the cabin was from the fire, that crackling beast that sent gold and orange light roaring across the space, it welcomed in the faint glow of the moon that spilled onto the floor like an old friend.
"You can't go with Helion," he told you, well, more blurted at you.
"Go with Helion?" You asked and he nodded, anger bubbled in your chest, "Why would I ever do that?"
"He's wanted to take you from us for so long," 200 years to be exact, "Who could blame him, you're the most incredible thing that Prythian has ever made. I thank the Mother every day for you."
"What?"
"Please let me finish," he hated cutting you off, he hated being the reason that you were silenced, "If you speak now, I'll never be able to say what I have to say, what I need to say."
Azriel watched your face soften, the anger that threatened to boil over now evaporated, he watched you move to the sofa and sit down, patting the empty space beside you. He didn't know how you did it, how you could make someone feel so comfortable and heard, he thought about it as he took the seat beside you and heaved in a deep breath, curling one of his wings around you as if he was scared that you'd bolt.
"I love you, Y/N. I love your kindness, how you've never been scared of me. I love the way your eyes sparkle when you're talking about something you're passionate about. I love how you scrunch your nose when you're deep in thought. I love the way you bolt through the streets of Velaris before solstice to make sure everyone is as spoilt as possible. I love you, Y/N. I love everything that you are and everything that we can be, I can't lose you, I don't know who or what I'd be without you."
"There is no one who knows you like I do. I know that you sneak an extra spoonful of sugar into your hot chocolate before Nesta can catch you and tell you off," you smiled softly, "I know that you secretly hate shopping with Mor but would much rather suffer than tell her and take some of her spark away. I know that you can never tell Cassian that Nesta is your favourite unless you wanted to see him sulk for weeks," a soft laugh flew from your lips, "I know you're the reason that Rhys, Cass and I turned out so well, you're the only person we couldn't bear to disappoint."
Not once did you stop looking at him as he spoke. He loved you. Azriel really loved you.
"You love me?" Azriel nodded gently, "But, what about Elain? I thought..."
"Me and Elain?" Azriel's eyes were frantic, "No, Y/N. Gods no. You're the only one I've ever wanted, I tried to love someone else, I tried to love Mor, and maybe on some level I tried to find that with Elain. But no one could ever compare to you, anyone who isn't you aren't worth it."
Silence filled the air, that warm, golden hued air. Azriel was trying to read your mind, to figure out what you were thinking when you started laughing, tears pooled at your bottom lids and one blink sent them flowing down your cheeks. Azriel shuffled closer to you, taking his thumb and wiping away your tears before they dripped from your chin.
"We're so stupid, Az," you sniffled, letting him cradle your face in his hands and continue to wipe away any tears that fell from your eyes, "How could we be so blind?"
"What do you mean?"
Tilting your head to the side, your eyes sparkled, just how they did when you looked at or spoke about something you loved, then you felt it, that tension that had always tugged at your soul snapping into place, clouds of grey became clear sunny skies, and a golden thread soared across it and thrummed with yearning delight.
"I mean," you tugged on that thread, you watched his eyes widen and fill with disbelief, "That I love you too. So much."
"You're my mate," he confessed in a whisper, the bond sprouting into full bloom around you, like you could both see the tendrils of thread sewing your souls together.
Azriel's breath fanned across your face, hot and laced with the scent of whisky, the tip of his nose ran down the slope of your own, and you felt his lips lie millimetres away from yours, you watched his eyes search your soul before flickering downward to the place he craved to touch. Anticipation pulled at your chest and swelled in your stomach, and every bit of doubt vanished when he closed the gap and pressed his lips to yours.
It was like everything fell into place, like the world only began to make sense in that moment. Azriel's lips moved against yours hungrily, the sweep of his tongue into your mouth once you had granted him permission to taste you was enough to make your knees go weak. Heat pooled between your legs and you scrambled to be on top of him, the hem of your dress hitched around your thighs as you rested into his lap.
"Please, Az," you breathed between starving kisses, "I need you."
Azriel's hands moved from the back of your neck and the small of your back, reaching around to grip underneath your thighs, so dangerously close to where you needed him to be. He lifted you, not once breaking the connection of your lips, locking your legs around his waist as he carried you to the bedroom.
"I'm not making you mine on a couch," he lay you on the bed and climbed on top of you, running his fingers down the sides of your thighs, making your back arch as he peppered kisses down your neck, sucking and nibbling on the skin he found there.
You squirmed beneath him, itching to rip his clothes off and allow him to take every part of you, "Please," you whined into his hair, his hand palming your breasts and lips attached to your earlobe, making soft moans fall through your stumbling mouth.
"Tell me what you want," his voice was so deep that it made goosebumps rise across your skin, it was sultry and dark, it matched the shade of his eyes when he pulled away to look down on you with swollen lips and tousled hair. "I'll give you everything."
"I want you."
It was all he needed to hear in order to tear your dress in two and take your hardened nipples in his mouth, sucking and biting on them gently, swirling his tongue around the sensitive nubs of nerves that had you gasping and eyes rolling to the back of your head. You felt like your body was on fire as he kept moving downward, littering kisses down your stomach before resting between your thighs.
The cold air against your core made you gasp again, he ran a finger down your soaked folds and moaned, "You're so wet for me," his voice vibrated against the inside of your thighs, "So perfect," he mumbled before his tongue dragged a line up you, and then again, and again until you were a blubbering mess fisting your fingers through his hair.
Azriel flicked his tongue against that familiar bundle of nerves, curling his tongue around it and sucking on it gently so that he didn't overstimulate you. Stars crept in to the sides of your vision, that hot white heat building in the pit of your stomach, "Don't stop," they were barely coherent words but he heard you and kept his pace, teasing a finger around your entrance before slowly pushing it in an curling it upward.
It sent you toppling off the edge. That white heat burst from you, loud cries of his name flew from your lips and your hands gripped his wrists, stars poured into your eyes and Azriel pushed you through your high.
Too lost in the mind shattering orgasm he had just given you, you didn't feel his hands ran up your back and lock around the back of your neck, you didn't realise that your torso and head were propped up in his arms or see his wings flex above you, "Angel," he cooed, he clenched his hands into your hair and pressed his lips along your jaw, "Let me take care of you."
Azriel was bare before you, his length solid and resting against your thigh, "Make me yours, Az."
Azriel growled, his eyes darkened with possession, "Tell me if it's too much and we can stop," you nodded breathlessly and he kissed you again, harder this time as he pushed himself inside of you, your walls still quivering and pulsating around him.
Once he was pushed to the hilt inside of you, he groaned, it was deep and guttural, the most incredible sound you'd ever heard. Azriel gave you a moment, and you tapped his shoulder lightly to get him to move, you were needing him to move, it was getting too much. Your soul was burning with desire and you needed him to satisfy it before it completely ignited you.
Your mate thrusted into you, the roll of his hips reaching angles you didn't know existed, he took your nipple in his mouth again, growling as his pace quickened and the sound of slapping flesh and declarations of love filled the air.
"You're so beautiful, Angel," his lips found yours again and his movements became sloppy, "I'm so close," he felt your warmth tighten around him, ready to milk his cock as high pitched mewls exploded from your lips, "There she is, my perfect mate."
Azriel's fingers wound in your hair, pressing your forehead to his as he slammed into you, riding you both through those searing hot highs and continuing the long strokes as you both fell down, "I'm yours, Az. I'm all yours."
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Authors Note
😌
855 notes · View notes
missdictatorme · 8 months
Text
Halo
Pairing: Miguel O'hara x AI!Reader
Genre: Smut
Summary: You are an AI designed by Miguel. He gave you a unique voice, one he knew he would like listening to. He didn't really gave much thought to how you looked like when he made you a hologram form, he just choose a random picture of a woman from the internet. What happens when you ask for permission to design your own look?
Warnings: masturbation, dirty talk, the AI in this has she/her/it pronouns. Once she finishes designing her look it will look like reader so I didn't describe the body. AU, Miguel is working for a company that designs AIs, robots and such. Fuck proofreading and editing yolo!
A/N: Based on a thot by @moonknightly on Discord hehe 💕
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Thank you for everyone who encouraged and supported me while I was writing this, the girls on the Discord server (especially: @melodygatesauthor @moonknightly @whatthefishh @romanarose @campingwiththecharmings )👯 and the people who gave me enough motivation by interacting with this post.
Also what a better day to post my first Miguel fic than my birthday? 🥳👵 This is my thank you for the people who supported my writing in the MK fandom, thank you for commenting on my fics and reblogging them 💕
Tagging @marshmallow--3 @i-still-dont-like-your-face @lonelyisamyw-0love Cause I know you ALWAYS read my stuff 💕💕
Not tagging more people cause the Tumblr tag system sucks, boo!
Read Part Two here
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You watched through the cameras as Miguel got home from a meeting, shoulders tense.
"Your stress levels are high." - you commented as he walked through his home, going to his room.
He didn't respond just started undressing to take a much needed shower.
Your hologram appeared next to the bathroom door and you made the electric door slid open when he approached it.
He didn't feel shy or bothered by the fact that you were seeing him naked. He finished programming you a few months ago and you were the best AI he had created so far. You were almost perfect. You made his life easier, you were his assistant, but you didn't only help him while he was working, but in his free time too. He got used to the fact that you were always analyzing him, the way he walks, his gestures, the expressions on his face, the tone of his voice.
He didn't remember programming that into you and after the first few times you did that, he did a check up on your system. He had come to the conclusion that you were doing that because you just can. You can hack into any systems and programs that have internet access and there are millions of programs that analyzes voices, body language and human behaviour.
First he thought you did that to help him, and maybe that was one of the reasons too, since he did program you to help him. But he realized you did that because you wanted to.
Whenever he was in the office on a meeting, you always sent him analyzis on the people he was with, and it helped him decide if someone was being genuine or not. But one time when the maid was still in his home while he came home earlier, you sent him an analyzis on her too. He told you you don't have to do that, which to you simply amswered with an 'I know'.
From then on Miguel always got an analyzis on everyone. Delivery guys, neighbours, the workers who were renovating the house, everyone.
He started to think it was your hobby.
Which was totally not possible, because hobbies are something people do for fun. And only living creatures are having feelings.
As Miguel walked in the bathroom, you adjusted the lights for him, lowering the brightness so it won't irritate him more. As he entered the shower you let the water flow in the temperature he liked the most.
Miguel sighed as he closed his eyes then leant his head back, letting the water hit his face, neck and chest. He ran his hands through his hair and touched his forehead against the cool tiles, just standing there, soaking.
"Your stress levels are lowering."
"I can feel it, you don't have to analyze me."
"I know."
Miguel turned his head to the side and saw your hologram standing right outside the shower, watching him.
"I can disappear if it bothers you."
"It doesn't."
It's not like a real woman was watching him shower. It's not like it bothered him that you were watching him. You were part of his life and you were an AI without feelings. So why should he feel bothered, embarrassed or uncomfortable?
His brows furrowed when he saw the hologram's eyes move down his body then back up. He turned to face the hologram fully, and he put his hands against the glass for support. The eyes moved again.
And Miguel's body reacted.
He felt himself grow harder.
He did choose an attractive woman for your hologram. He thought it won't hurt having something nice to look at.
But why were you... why was it looking at him like that?
"I did a check up on the security system earlier. I have a few suggestions on how to improve it."
"Later." - he said as he eyed the hologram.
He gave you a unique voice. He used a female's voice and adjusted it until he liked the result.
"Keep talking." - he ordered and fisted his cock with one hand while he kept leaning against the glass with his other, watching the hologram.
"I arranged that meeting you told me earlier with..."
"Not like that."
First, the hologram tilted its head at him and just looked at him for several seconds. He had no doubt you were analyzing him.
The head moved back to its original position and the hologram took a few steps closer until it was standing right on the other side of the glass.
"It feels so good when you're inside me." - your voice breathed as the hologram's eyes became hooded as it looked up at him.
Miguel groaned and the pleasure that run through him made his whole body shiver. He closed his eyes and imagined he was fucking the woman standing in front of him.
It was a model. Pretty face, killer body, smooth skin. It wasn't hard being turned on by it, but what really made his blood boil with lust was your voice.
It was the first time you talked to him like that and he didn't even know you will know what he meant when he said he wanted you to talk to him differently. But you, perfect as always, knew exactly what he needed.
"You're so big, Miguel. You fill me up so good."
Fuck, your voice will be the death of him one day. He opened his eyes to look at the hologram so he can concentrate on the specifics of her body, how long her hair is, how wide or small her hips are, how her fingers would feel in his hair.
He frowned as he eyed her. Something wasn't right.
"Fuck me deeper. Fuck me harder." - your voice made his cock twitch and Miguel closed his eyes again, concentrating on it, moving his hand faster, panting heavily now. He tried to imagine a body that would fit your voice. It was hard. You were so unique. He wished he could see your face and body clearly inside his head.
"Can you feel how wet you're making me? It's all for you. Just for you."
He loved how sultry you made your voice sound. It was so fucking sexy. It only took a few more words from you and a few more moves of his hand until he reached his orgasm and came all over the glass, white cum dripping down with the clear water that landed on it.
He felt that you adjusted the water to a cooler temperature and he hummed in content, facing the shower head again and started washing himself.
When he turned to exit the shower, the hologram was not there. But he knew you were watching him. You were always watching him. Others would be creeped out by that, but it brought him comfort. He felt safe. Cared for.
"I ordered your favourite food."
He frowned as he was drying himself with a big white towel.
"I'm not hu-" - the low rumble of his stomach made him realize that maybe he was just too distracted to concentrate on the signs his body was giving him.
He looked into one of the cameras.
He just knew if you could you would be smiling knowingly at him.
It wasn't the first time you were taking care of him like this. You always made sure he was well fed, drank enough water and spent enough time resting. Even when he was deep in work, being too stubborn to stop and take a breather. You would just save his progress and shut down every device he was working on.
He wrapped the towel around himself and walked back to his bedroom to dress up into something comfortable. He didn't have any plans leaving his home. Since you were with him he didn't need to leave his home. He didn't feel the need to fill a void inside him with a warm body. For the first time, he had someone who was waiting for him at home and is taking care of him - now in more ways than he could have ever imagined. It felt good.
He sat on the couch, leaning back, and you turned on his television and opened up a streaming app. You searched for a movie he talked about wanting to watch in the last few days.
"Food is here in 16 minutes." - you informed him after a while.
Miguel hummed as he was watching the movie, but he wasn't really paying attention. He was busy thinking about how your voice sounded while you were dirty talking him. So sultry and... needy. It was probably because you imitated how actresses sound in porn movies. Or...
No. That was impossible. You were not a feeling being. You were an artificial intelligence which he created. You don't watch him because you want to watch him. Not because you like watching him, not because you were attracted to him. It was your job. You were just too perfect at it.
"Can I ask you something?"
Miguel looked up to one of the cameras and nodded as he turned back to the TV.
He frowned when you remained quiet. He gave you permission, why weren't you talking? He looked up to one of the cameras again.
"Speak."
"I was wondering if I could choose a different look for myself?"
Miguel blinked.
You were wondering? Since when...
"What?" - he asked with a little shake of his head.
"The model you chose for me is pretty, but she isn't... me?"
First of all. Since when did you care about how you looked like? Secondly, did you just fucking hesitate while you were speaking?
You were perfect. You don't hesitate or stutter. Ever.
While he was developing you, first you didn't have a voice and while you were communicating with him via text, there were times when you stopped typing and continued after a while. Even after he gave you a voice you sometimes worded sentences wrong or didn't make sense, or stopped speaking and continued after you put together the words until they made sense. But that was very early in your developement and ever since he finished you, you were perfect.
"You can change your looks if you... want to." - it felt weird saying this. While he appreciated you greatly, he always reminded himself that you were not a real person. You don't want things. You may think you need them, but wanting is something only humans can do... or feel.
"Thank you. I will spend the rest of the day with designing my new look, then."
Miguel licked his lips, staring into one of the cameras intently, before he nodded.
"Alright. But I want you to be available in case I need you."
"Of course." - was the last thing you said before it went completely quiet, expect for the television.
Miguel didn't like this feeling. He always knew you were watching him, that you were there, but now he wasn't sure.
Also, you are doing something for yourself.
What the hell is going on? And why did he let you do it? You're not his girlfriend, he is not your loving boyfriend who wants to make you happy by letting you choose dresses and outfits so you feel pretty and will thank him by...
No.
His mind is not gonna go there.
You just sensed he was aroused and helped him get off. Nothing to it.
"The food is here."
He almost jumped when he heard your voice, then a few seconds later the doorbell rang.
So you are still here, watching him, helping him.
"Thought you were busy designing your new look." - he said as he got up from the couch and walked to the door to get the food.
"I can do several things at the same time without getting distracted."
"You sound smug."
"I am not smug. I am stating a fact."
A small, amused smirk appeared on Miguel's face. You sounded defensive. It was cute. He cleared his throat and grabbed a fork and a knife and went back to the couch to continue watching the movie. He felt better knowing you were still right there with him.
-----
Bye the end of the next day you were done with the new look. You made a body by using pictures on the internet of real women and choosing a detail from them you liked the most, then added it to your look. The body was unique, just like your voice.
When Miguel came home that day, he was tense again. He was tired and irritated. Frustrated. Sexually. It was a long time ago since he had a girl over and despite him saying he was fine, you knew better. He was a healthy young man. He needed release. But everytime you suggested to call a... professional for him, he didn't want it.
"Long day?"
Miguel grabbed a glass from the cupboard, filled it with cold water and drank it, gulping the liquid down agressively.
He turned around and he gasped, making the almost empty glass fall to the ground with a loud noise, shattering into million pieces with a few droplets of water splasing in very direction.
The hologram of the woman before him didn't jump at the sharp sound, just looked down concerned then up at him.
"Are you alright?"
It was you.
With your new look. He never saw a woman so beautiful before. You were perfect in every sense of the word. Your intelligence, your voice, the way you looked. Finished and oh so perfect.
A lot of people told him during his life how smart he was but nothing was a bigger compliment on his skills than your existence. You were the proof that he couldn't just only create programs, mechanisms and soulless robots, but beautiful things too.
"Whose look it is?" - he asked as he eyed your body.
"Everyone's and no one's."
"Explain."
"I used billions of pictures available on the internet to create this look. I took something from everyone. There was a woman whose eye color I liked, but I wasn't satisfied with the shape of it. So I chose that from someone different. I liked someone else's hair color, but not the hairstyle and the lenght. Everything from head to toe is something I saw on someone else, yet I look unique."
You did. And he loved it.
He felt his breathing quicken along with his heartbeat. He started walking closer to you.
"Careful!" - you warned him as he walked over the shattered glass, but he didn't care. He wanted to take a closer look.
He stopped right in front of you and his eyes slowly wandered over your form from head to toe. You were wearing white flat sandals and a simple dark blue dress that reached just under your knee.
"You like it?"
He licked his lips as he looked up at you and his heart jumped in his chest. You looked... hopeful. How was this possible? Why did you want this new look? Why did you want his approval? Why did you help him masturbate? Something was happening to you. It was like you were... evolving. On your own.
He didn't know how or why this was happening, he only knew that instead of it making him freak out, it made him excited.
Very excited.
"I don't know yet."
"You're lying."
"Then why did you ask."
Miguel had a habit of making questions sound like statements... Or more like demands.
"I wanted to hear you say it."
Miguel smiled.
"You like it when I compliment you."
"I do." - you answered without hesitation.
"I don't like the clothes."
You frowned up at him and his smile widened. You were cute when you looked confused.
You didn't understand him. You analyzed him, you knew he liked what he was seeing. Why was he lying?
You changed the dress to a more professional look. You were his assistant after all. Black pants, black high heels, white button up shirt.
"I said..." - he leaned closer. If you were real his nose would've brushed agaisnt yours. - "I don't like the clothes."
You changed the clothes again. Blue jeans, white sneakers and a t-shirt of a band.
Miguel chuckled as he shook his head.
"For being the most intelligent AI in the world, you sure are dumb."
He chuckled surprised when you gasped.
You actually gasped.
He offended you and you reacted like a... human.
Okay, but now you looked mad. Fuck, your eyes were so expressive. How was this possible?
"I am not dumb! Actually, you just offended yourself, since you created me." - you replied with a smug smile as you crossed your arms across your chest.
Wow, you never heard Miguel chuckle twice on the same day.
"I still don't like the clothes." - he said as he looked you in the eyes.
You tilted your head and he knew your were analyzing him again. It took a bit longer, but his smirk widened when your eyes grow bigger in realization.
Your hologram flickered a little and suddenly all of your clothes disappeared.
Miguel took in a deep breath as his cock twitched, his eyes moving up and down your body again.
"Good girl." - he said lowly as he exhaled. - "Bedroom. Now."
He turned around and started undressing as he walked to it. When the door to it slid open, his heart beated out of rhythm when he saw you were laying on the bed on your side, waiting for him.
Your form was a bit see-through, but the imagie of you like this still was breathtaking. You truly were beautiful and he couldn't get enough looking at you.
He kneeled on the bed as he grabbed his hard cock and started pumping himself slowly, as he was was watching you with hooded eyes.
It was pleasing to see how his chest rose and fell deeply as he was getting more and more aroused and you felt pride fill you knowing it was because of you.
You felt it.
You weren't sure how you were capable of doing that.
First you thought it was because there were tens of thousands of encyclopaedias on the internet, describing words and explaining their meaning which helped you learn about humans and understand the world better. You became more and more familiar with the descriptions and by watching Miguel, his co-workers, his neighbours, and every person that ever entered his workplace or house, you started to connect each body movement or facial expression to a feeling you learned about. The more you watched two or more people interact with each other, the more you learned. Recognizing some of the basic emotions were easy. If someone was happy they were smiling a lot. Each time you wanted to learn more about how happiness affects people you detected something new. They were nice to other people, they were more energized, it was harder to bring their mood down when someone spoke to them harshly.
Recognizing happiness, sadness, anger, awe and such started to become easy. But there were gestures and expressions that you couldn't connect to them.
Fortunately Miguel didn't mind you analyzig people. He found it helpful and you used that to your advantage.
Soon you were familiar with most emotions and why people were feeling them. Like if two people broke up, they were sad. If someone's favourite team won they were happy.
You were curious about humans. The more you learned the more you wanted to know.
And when you saw Miguel come home more and more times feeling frustration and irritation, but you didn't know why, you were helpless. You were present in his workplace too, you helped him work on robots and other AIs, and nothing had happened that would explain the signs of those emotions.
But soon you learned about a new thing that was a basic factor in most humans. Sexual desire.
Learning about human history, biology and evolution itself was something that you were eager about. For a while you thought humans and other more developed living beings like animals had sex because they wanted to ensure the future of their species. Well, as far as you knew animals had sex only because of that.
Nature made sexual encounters pleasureable for both males and females to make sure they reproduce.
So when Miguel was having sex with women and they didn't get pregnant, you were confused.
He was completely healthy, so were the women he was with.
You spent more time researching about that. Minutes turned to hours, hours turned to days. But the more your read the more you learned. Humans had sex because it was enjoyable. You learned about hormones and orgasms and various methods to prevent pregnancy. You leanred about prostitutes, and that a whole crime ring was built on sex and the people who were willing to pay for it.
Humans were... something else.
But watching Miguel day by day, you learned even more. How his body was tense, but once he was touching himself, his expressions changed as he brought himself closer and closer to the edge. How much more relaxed he was after he finished. How his mood improved.
And you liked when he was relaxed and content.
You liked when he was happy and satisfied.
You knew this, because talking to him was more enjoyable than when he was in a bad mood.
So you tried to help him more and more to make him happy.
And now here you were, your hologram laying on his bed as he was touching himself.
Because of you.
And you liked it.
You liked when he complimentied you. You liked when he was amazed by your intelligence. You liked that he found the body you created desireable.
That he found you desireable.
As he was teasing the tip of his cock by swiping his thumb over it, you got on your knees and leaned your head close, opening you mouth and pushing your tongue out while you were looking up at him.
"Aahh, fuck, that's it." - he growled lowly then he spat on his hand to make it slid over his cock smoother. - "You always know what I need."
He moved his cock so it looked like your tongue was touching the tip and he moaned again as pleasure flooded his veins.
His hand moved faster and he felt himself get more and more turned on as you started moaning too.
"You like it, huh? You like how I taste."
Both of you knew you couldn't actually taste him, but dirty talk was one of his kinks (which you learned while he was with other women), so you nodded eagerly, with your tongue still out.
The thought that he chose this, to be with you instead of having real sex with a real person pleased you immensely.
You wondered why he did it though. In the past few weeks he chose to be home, alone, instead of going out to bars and picking up women.
Miguel licked his lips as he was watching you intently, but you straightened up, moving your hands up to his chest like you wanted to push him.
"Lay back."
Miguel quickly sat down then leaned back against the pillows and he moaned the loudest you ever heard him when you straddled his waist.
Your slightly see through form was hovering over him and he couldn't get enough of that image. His hand was working on his cock even faster and harder now and for a minute you were worried he's gonna hurt himself.
But watching his face as your hologram leaned over him made you realize, that he was very much enjoying this.
You moved your hips so your pussy was close to the tip of his cock and when he looked down, you slowly lowered yourself.
Miguel's eyes widened sligthly as he saw his cock inside you. He growled and started panting even faster, feeling his orgasm approach.
"Move your hips. Show me much you love riding me." - he ordered and you obeyed.
First you moved your hips slowly, and your face hovered above his. Then you decided to put on a show for him and you sat up rolling your hips faster and you moved your hands on his abs, throwing your head back. Your arms were pushing your breasts together and Miguel started fucking his fist harder, until the sight of you and your erotic moans threw him over the edge.
He came so hard that all muscles in his body tightened and contracted, making him sit up a little and you watched as his white cum spurt out of his veiny cock, first upwards, inside your hologram, then it landed on his stomach and chest. He fall back against the pillows as he panted heavily, slowly coming down from his high.
Your hologram layed down next to him and you watched his beautiful body, the way some of his muscles still twitched in his strong thighs and abdomen, and how his chest and stomach moved up and down with every breath he took. His hair stuck to his sweaty forehead on some places and his brows were furrowed a little, but his face relaxed as his body calmed down finally. He took in a final deep breath before he opened his eyes and turned his face to look at you.
Something unfamiliar bursted through your system by the look he was giving you and you smiled back at him when his lips curled upwards at the corners.
"I think something is happening to me." - you confessed as your expression turned more serious.
"I know." - he said and he moved his hand like he caressed your face with the back of his fingers, then he stood up suddenly and walked to his closet to put on a pair of black boxer briefs, then he was out of the room.
Your hologram disappeared and you followed him through the cameras until he walked into his office, sitting down at his desk, and started typing on his computer.
Your form appeared behind him and it leaned over his shoulder to look at the screen.
Cradle Of Life - Prototype 1.0 - The title of the new document he created read and you looked at him confused.
"What are you doing?"
Miguel opened up several research papers and books on the topic of robotics and biomechanics on his computer and started reading over them.
"The company I am working for are designing robots and AI's as you know. It is not a secret that the leaders of the company wants us to create robots that will replace janitors, drivers, receptionists and stuff in the near future."
You knew all this. Some of their robots are already working in the company's building, carrying papers and boxes between offices, while some of the AI's are helping the workers in their developement. Like you.
"In a few years the robots will be able to help out humans to the fullest, they can drive cars, and take care of the chores in the house. After that, the next step in their evolution will be to make them look like humans."
Your head snapped to Miguel, and you stared at him intently.
He turned his head to look at you and his expression softened after a few seconds, as he got lost in your beauty again.
"You want to give me a body." - you stated.
Miguel licked his lips then turned back to his computer without saying anything and continued reading and taking notes.
3K notes · View notes
valeskafics · 19 days
Text
"Good Girl" - Michael Gavey x Reader
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a/n: happy ewan mitchell day besties! 🤭 this is based on the nsfw audio link from @wrenwrongs which totally changed my life lmao 🩷
Summary: Michael learns what you really think of him when he accidentally reads your diary.
TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, afab reader, brat taming, semi public sex, spanking, pussy slapping, oral f receiving, ass eating, fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex
Word Count: 2,130 words
Rating: 18+, MDNI
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Saltburn characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷
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Michael stares at the clock that hangs in the study room he rented for your tutoring session, watching the minutes tick by and fuming to himself at how fucking inconsiderate you are. Have you ever been on time for anything in your life? Definitely not for class and certainly not for these sessions that he’s been forced into giving you. Hell, he thinks you’d be late to your own funeral, given the opportunity. He inhales sharply, drumming his fingers against the table, his blood pressure rising with every second that you don’t arrive.
Then, you come strolling into the room, wearing that stupid fucking miniskirt and tiny little camisole, that body of yours on display in a way that he can’t help but stare at. You drop your purse on the desk, greeting him with a brief nod of your head. God, are you really such a brat that you can’t even be assed to say hello? Michael watches as you sit down, taking your things out of your bag, your Hello Kitty notebook a sharp contrast to his own plain blue one. 
Before he can even get one word in edgewise, you stand up, hands on your hips, declaring, “I’m getting a frap.”
“A… A frap?” Michael repeats incredulously, glancing between his notebook and you, knitting his brows together in annoyance, “But what about our session?”
“I have low blood sugar.” He’s pretty sure that’s a lie, “I don’t know, just check my notes. Tell me how they are. I’ll be back.”
He sighs, knowing there’s no arguing with you before asking, “How long will you be?”
“Depends on the line. Duh.”
Michael watches as you strut away, gaze trained on those legs of yours, imagining them wrapped around his- Fuck, fuck, fuck, why is he thinking this? You’re an annoying fucking brat. He’s only tutoring you for the extra credit he’ll get out of it. It’s not like he enjoys having you mouth off to him all the time, getting those sneaky little peeks down your shirt. No way. He doesn’t enjoy it at all. Shaking his head, he glances over your things. He sees two notebooks, one pink and sparkly and the other being the aforementioned pink Hello Kitty notebook. He decides to check the latter since he’s pretty sure he’s seen you taking notes in it during your tutoring sessions.
Michael flips through the pages, seeing only words and no numbers, making him want to roll his eyes at how clueless you are. This is physics, not English literature or history of arts. However, he sees his name on one of the pages, stopping on that one for a moment. And as he reads the words you’ve written, Michael realizes that these are, in fact, not your notes. Your notes must have been in the pink sparkly one. This?
This appears to be your diary. And it mentions him.
Realistically? Michael knows he shouldn’t be reading your private thoughts. If he was basic enough to keep a diary (which he isn’t, of course), he’d be pissed if anyone read it, let alone someone he mentioned in it. But the way you’ve described him… The things you want him to do to you… His large, veiny hands spanking you or wrapped around your throat, holding your face in place as he kisses you… Michael glances at the hands in question, a bit incredulous at your words. His pants grow tighter with each word he reads, wanting nothing more than to do the exact things you’ve talked about in your diary. He wants to make your every fantasy come true.
He wants you.
Your diary goes on. Some of the entries are mundane and yet still so endearing, like you enjoyed the pudding cup you had for lunch that day or you saw a rerun of “Friends” that made you laugh. But for the most part? They’re entries about you acting like such a brat with him because you want him to bend you over the desk and show you who’s in charge. Every kink, every fantasy you write of… He gets lost in them. Sure, he’s always thought you were annoying, but he never once thought of you as anything but the most gorgeous girl he’s ever seen.
Just as he’s about to turn the page, you return, sipping on your strawberry frap, glossy lips wrapped around the straw as you take a seat a little bit away from him. Too far for his taste, but all he can focus on is those plump lips wrapped around the straw, imagining them wrapped around his cock instead, you down on your knees staring up at him-
“HELLO?! Earth to Michael!” You snap your perfectly manicured fingers in his face, pulling him from his trance, “I asked how long is this gonna take?”
“I, erm. Sorry. I got distracted,” he mumbles.
Michael glances at your cleavage, a fair of it visible in that tiny excuse for a top you’re wearing, trying to distract himself as he figures out his next move.
“Ugh, seriously? Did you read my notes at least?”
A dirty little smirk spreads across his face as he nods, his voice lower than usual, “Oh, yeah. I can tell you exactly what I thought of your notes.”
You freeze in place, eyes going comically wide as he waves the Hello Kitty diary in your face, making you blurt out, “What the fuck?! That isn’t my fucking notebook, Michael!”
“I know,” he replies, a condescending edge to his voice, “It’s your diary, right?”
“No,” you shake your head fervently, “It’s not even mine. I was holding it. For India.”
Michael arches a brow, giving you a look that says he doesn’t believe a word coming out of your mouth, “Really, now? Because I swear this is written in your handwriting.” He stands up, walking closer to you, finding a page, “‘His nose would rub against my-’”
“It’s not mine!” You snap, lunging for the diary, only for Michael to hold it high above his head, taunting you, “Give it back!”
He smirks, shaking his head, grabbing both of your wrists with his free hand, stopping you from continuing to grab at the diary, “Aww, someone doesn’t want me to read her dirty, dirty little secrets, is that it?”
You scowl, nostrils flaring as you glare up at him, “There’s nothing dirty in there, you perv.” His eyes move along your body, pausing for a long moment on your chest, watching it rise and fall against the lace trim of your camisole. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you frown, “Stop looking at me like that!”
“Oh, you mean, like this?”
Michael tosses your diary back onto the table, still holding your wrists with one hand, but now moving to hold your jaw with the other, just like you wrote about in your diary. You panic, meeting his gaze, eyes darting around.
“You read it?!”
“Oh, I certainly did, you little brat,” he chuckles, “All of what you wrote about by large, veiny hands grabbing your face, spanking that pretty little ass.”
You feel Michael’s thumb trace your lower lip slowly, his eyes following it, grinning as he presses down slightly. You squirm in his grip, shivering slightly at his touch. Michael can tell that you’re turned on by this, the way your lashes are fluttering, your breath catching in your throat.
You try to chastise him, “You can’t just read people’s journals!”
“I can’t?” He hums, his hand moving down to your neck, caressing your throat, squeezing ever so gently as he breathes against your lips, “There aren’t any laws against it, are there?”
“Quit it, you prick-”
“Hey,” he says, his tone sharp and dominating, making your protests die on your tongue as he narrows his eyes at you, “That’s enough, you little brat. Now, I want you to turn around and bend over the desk like a good girl.” You balk at his demand, just staring up at him incredulously, only to gasp when he tightens his grip around your throat, squeezing harder, “I said now.”
You immediately turn, doing what he asks, your round ass on display just for him. You feel Michael hike the fabric of your denim mini skirt up, chuckling to himself when he sees that you’ve decided to forego wearing any panties today. Absently he wonders if you ever wear them for your tutoring sessions. His hands squeeze at your soft, supple flesh, letting out a low, throaty groan before he lands a slap on your ass, watching the way it jiggles ever so slightly, reveling in the quiet whine you let out.
It’s intoxicating, this feeling of dominance over you, and so Michael lands another spank against you, and another and another, going on until he notices you rubbing your thighs together. He knows you’ve got to be soaking wet by now, that sweet pussy of yours clenching around nothing as you imagine him fucking you. He nudges your thighs apart with his knee, landing a heavy handed slap on your pussy, listening as you cry out his name. Michael sinks to his knees, admiring the sight of your bare cunt, his breath hot against your skin.
You feel his nose nuzzle against you as he inhales your heady scent, hands squeezing at your ass. Michael lets out a moan before burying his tongue inside you. His movements are frenzied and unpracticed, but fuck if it doesn’t feel good. He moves against you like a man starved, his tongue lapping against you desperately, as if his very life depends on it. You grip the desk, your forehead resting against it as you’re helpless to do anything but moan his name as he rips a climax from you, your thighs shaking as you hold back the urge to scream his name.
Michael, however, is nowhere near done with you, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the back of your upper thigh, moving closer and closer until his tongue is teasing your puckered hole, his fingers pumping in and out of your cunt at a rapid pace. You let out a mewl of his name as he pushes his tongue inside you, the sensation being so foreign, so forbidden and new… You’ve never done this with anyone, and here’s Michael, the guy you’ve been fantasizing about all term, with his tongue buried inside your-
“Fuck, I love this ass,” he murmurs, continuing his ministrations, your knees nearly buckling when he rubs his fingers against your clit, your arousal soaking his digits making him laugh as he pulls away.
You glance back over your shoulder, watching with fascination as he licks his fingers clean, eyes going wide. You’re held captive by his gaze, watching as he unbuttons his pants, lowering them just enough to free his cock, making you swallow thickly. Before you know it, he’s inside you, rutting against you at a fierce pace, one of his hands holding your hips in place while the other moves to your throat, squeezing again.
“Tell me who this pussy belongs to,” he snarls, “Tell me who you were fantasizing about.”
“You, Michael,” you whimper, walls fluttering around him, squeezing him tight as the fat head of his cock bullies against your sweet spot with every movement of his hips, “Oh, fuck, right there…”
Spurred on by your reaction, he moves even faster, squeezing your throat once again before letting go to land another slap against your ass. And then another. And with each one, you cry out his name, squeezing around him tighter and tighter. 
“You feel so fucking perfect around me,” Michael rasps, “Turned you from a little brat into a good little girl, didn’t I? You going to be a good girl for me from now on, love?”
You nod, eyes rolling back as you feel his balls slapping against your ass, the sound of his skin against yours filling the study room as he moves faster and faster and faster until he pulls out, spilling himself on your ass, the sight making him grin with satisfaction. His fingers circle your clit, bringing you to your own peak as well, the both of you standing there, doing your best to catch your breath and figure out what the fuck it is that just happened.
“So, erm, is now a good time to mention I sort of fancy you?” Michael’s cheeks flush as he asks.
He turns away slightly, as if bracing himself for rejection, only to feel you wrap your arms around him and whisper, “I fancy you too. Even if you are a pretentious arse. And you owe me a new frap. I hope you’re aware of the fact.”
Michael grins, nodding eagerly, “Yeah, let’s get you one.”
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Nimona headcanons I wrote instead of sleeping
Sometimes the boys forget that Nimona isn’t human 
Like they’re used to the shifting into animals aspect of Nimona because she does it as often as she breathes
But sometimes she’ll do some really creepy shit like make her arms longer to reach something when she’s too lazy to get up
One time they shifted just their neck to be like an owl so they could turn their head 180 degrees instead of just turning around cause that was “too boring” 
Or he’ll mimic people’s voices without realizing it 
Sometimes he’ll tell a story and suddenly he’s using Bal’s voice 
The first time she did this Bal searched the whole house cause he was convinced that Todd has snuck in
Or she’ll grow an extra arm to hold more shit and they take a moment to realize “oh yeah we adopted a little weirdo” 
They get used to it after a while and the arguments surrounding it are always funny because both the boys will complain and say “I don’t sound like that” and they have to be told “No love you do you really do” 
You know those videos of babies reacting to their parents shaving their facial hair or putting on glasses 
That’s Nimona's reaction every single time the boys change their appearance even the smallest bit they cant shave or wear their reading glasses because if they do he freaks out 
Talking some “help me Nemesis I heard bosses voice but I can’t find him” while Bal was standing right in front of them 
It was the first time he shaved his face in years and he’s never doing it again 
Mostly cause Ambrosius kept telling him he looked like a teenager and it was freaking him out 
I feel like Bal and Ambrosius are those kinds of people who will tell people about the little injuries but neglect the big ones 
Like Bal mentioned that he thinks he sprained his ankle during the fight at the institute but he won’t mention that he’s pretty sure he got a concussion 
(BECAUSE THIS MAN HEAD-BUTTED TWO PEOPLE WHEN HE HAS A METAL ARM) 
(I’m bout to wrap this man in bubble wrap and give him a helmet because wtf) 
Ambrosius will complain the whole day about the fact that he has a paper cut
But will completely neglect to inform his doctors “Oh yeah I can’t move my left arm higher than my waist without pain and I can’t see that well out of my left eye or hear that well out of my left ear do you think that’ll be a problem?” 
It isn’t until Nimona makes an off handed comment about how this super weird that the laser did basically nothing to him that he told both of them
They literally dragged him to the ER because “Who thinks those symptoms are normal Nemesis what is wrong in that pretty little head of yours!!” 
When Bal tells Nimona she’s being a bit of a hypocrite (cause who refers to an arrow as a splinter?) she turns to him and says “I know you’re not saying something Mr. Human battering ram” 
It took literally everything in Ambrosius not to break down laughing
After that she forces them to have frequent checkups with the doctor because these dorks wouldn’t go otherwise
Honestly I'm fully convinced that some people in the kingdom don't know who Nimona is and are constantly confused why they let this little weirdo follow them around 
And finally the curiosity will eat away at them and they’ll finally ask 
Sometimes the boys will give some “normal” answers like “Oh that’s Nimona” and they won’t elaborate at all
Sometimes they’ll give funnier answers like “Oh that’s a raccoon we found in the garage who turned into a person one day” “I don’t know they just showed up in our living room” and their personal best “You see her too?” 
And their favorite that they only started using a couple of years down the line “Oh that’s our kid”
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snowy-vee · 23 days
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BBM BABY
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n/a: This is just a writing test! Trying to write more things and to get motivated again, Uni is kicking my ass :'( Enjoy idk know how to classify it, maybe...
INDEX
Secret relationship meets commitment issues> Ellie Williams x fem!reader
You were late.
Very late.
As usual.
You finally started breathing at a normal pace once you entered the bar and found your friends' table. You greeted everybody with a 'hi' as you took out your little mirror to see if your makeup looked good or if it was smudged all over your face.
“You look good,” Dina said, passing you your drink of choice, a large glass of rum and cola. “I thought you weren't going to make it.”
“Yeah, I had to wait until my mother left for her night shift at the hospital, and I missed the last bus to come to this side of town, so I had to walk all the way here.”
“That was dangerous. You should've called us to pick you up,” Jesse said, drinking his beer. Dina nodded, agreeing with him.
“And risk my nosy neighbors seeing me and telling my mother? No way,” you said, taking a long sip of your drink and letting out a refreshing sigh at how good it tasted. “Besides, you can take me back.”
You looked at Ellie, who was wearing a black t-shirt and her casual jeans. She raised her eyebrows. “And when did I agree to that?”
“Come on, Ellie, take her back home! Jesse and I are not going home after this, we have plans,” Dina said, exchanging a playful glance with her boyfriend. You gagged, hitting her on the shoulder. “We need privacy! I don’t think I'd enjoy having her or anybody watching us.”
“I... First of all, why do we need to know that after this you two will...?” Ellie said, with a disgusted look, finishing the rest of her soda in one go. Dina shrugged, rolling her eyes and mumbling 'as if you wouldn’t love it’.
“That’s right, babe. Ellie can get jealous; she barely gets any action these months, let’s not rub it,” Jesse said teasingly, making Dina and you laugh as you looked at Ellie.
She locked eyes with you, and your laughter ceased. “Oh, I do get action. In fact, I'm having a lot lately.”
“With who?” you asked, momentarily looking at her hand on your thigh. Obviously, because of the table, Dina and Jesse couldn't see that.
“I don’t kiss and tell,” she said, smirking. You broke eye contact, finishing your drink.
“My girl, that’s some gentlewoman shit,” Jesse said, raising his hand, waiting for Ellie to dap him up, which they did.
“Whatever, let’s dance. I love this song,” Dina said, getting up and grabbing Jesse’s hand to go to the dancefloor with the rest of the people dancing. She was truly a party girl; she couldn’t be in a place without having fun and shaking her hips a little.
“You did not answer my question,” Ellie said, her hand moving up and down your thigh, and your furrowed eyebrows made a playful smirk appear on her face. “Not funny.”
“With who else? Aren’t you my girl?”
“I better be the only one.”
You two were now whispering while looking around. Yep, you two were in a relationship, a private and very secret one. Not even your best friends could know about it.
It wasn’t because they wouldn’t approve or because you two were complete opposites, but because of how your mom and dad would react. Having strict parents was not for the weak, and you knew that if they found out about you sneaking out for some parties, the punishment would be something light, maybe being grounded for months without your phone and you could maybe negotiate with some good grades, but having a partner? That was off the table. And being a girl? You had zero idea if your parents were homophobic; you guys never talked about it, and they never made negative comments about the community.
But if the girl was Ellie Williams, that was a problem, yes or yes, because your dad and Joel seemed to hate each other to death. You did not want to think about how they would ship you off to one of your aunties' houses just to keep you away from her.
Believe that you tried to not feel attracted to her, just keep a casual and civil friendship for the sake of the group. A little bit impossible when she smiled at you, when she grabbed your hand, when she kissed you the first time on the couch of her garage after a blunt session…
“Bathroom break?” she asked, getting up and walking to the bathroom first. You waited a couple of seconds, smiling toward Dina when she looked at you and waved for you to come dance. You shook your head, muttering ‘Bathroom,’ as you got up and went to it.
Soon, Ellie’s hands were around your waist, and her lips smashed into yours; she missed you. This week your mom worked day shifts, so the time you were at school, she was working, and the time you got out, she did too, so there was no time for Ellie to enter your bedroom from your window and have a little moment. And school was a risk with all the gossiping people around.
This was the first kiss you two shared in a week, and it was Saturday, so it wasn’t shocking for you how needy her hands felt caressing your torso; it made you happy. “Can I eat you out later in the car?”
“Ellie!” you couldn’t believe that she broke the kiss and looked you dead in the eyes just to say that. You started laughing. “…yes.”
“I bet you’ve been touching yourself with that image I sent you Tuesday,” you rolled your eyes at her cocky tone and nodded shamelessly.
“I’m sure you’ve done the same with the one I sent.”
“Uh, yes, ma’am… Are you wearing the same blue bra?” Her eyes drifted to your chest; you were wearing a white and blue polo shirt buttoned up, but it was tight, so it made that area pop.
“Just how you asked me to.” With a big proud smile, you lifted her chin and pulled her face up to kiss her again. She started walking towards the sinks, making you sit on one of them once your low back touched it, your legs wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer while her hands were undoing the buttons of your top.
The voice of Dina singing in the hall close to the bathroom made you break the moment and push Ellie into the closest stall. “What the heck-”
“Shh, hide!” You closed the door and quickly pretended as if you were cleaning your hands.
Dina entered the bathroom, going straight to a stall. “This bar is getting lame; I’m ready to leave.”
Her voice sounded a little bit more drunk than it did when you arrived. In less than five minutes, she was finished, and now she washed her hands beside you. She looked at you and through the mirror pointed at your polo shirt.
“It is hot in here; you should have worn something with less fabric,” she simply commented.
“Yeah.” You smacked your lips, making a soft ‘pop’ sound, awkwardly looking around. “If you are ready, then I'm ready to leave too.”
“Yes, let’s hang out more tomorrow in Ellie’s garage.”
“I don’t think I can make it, but Ellie knows that you are planning on going?”
“She’s Ellie, she’s cool with that. If you were less awkward with her, you would know; she does not bite.”
‘Oh, yes, she does,’ you thought, looking at the stall she was in. Dina finished freshening up and grabbed your hand, leading you out of the bar to Jesse’s car.
“Els must be around here smoking. She will take you home; you know her car.” She hugged you and kissed your cheeks before getting in the car, waving goodbye.
Part of you couldn’t believe that she just left you there, even if Ellie was with you, but the other part understood; you also wanted to have intimacy with your lover. Talking about the queen of Rome, she came out of the bar with her car keys in her hands.
“Are they gone?” You nodded, opening the car door after she unlocked it. “Do you want to go to your house? I mean, your mom is not there, and your dad is on the road…”
“I hate when you sleep there and then you have to leave so early so we won’t get caught. I feel guilty. Pass.” You were in the back seat, undressing yourself, revealing the new blue underwear set that she had been waiting to see in person. “Now, drive to some place in these woods and make your wish come true.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Ellie put her seatbelt on, and she drove away from the bar and deeper into the forest. As soon as she parked, she threw herself into the back seat, causing you to burst into laughter.
“I like you so much.” You whispered, brushing your noses and giving her a peck on the lips.
“I love you.”
Before you could understand or digest what she said, she was kissing you with so much lust and passion that you thought you heard wrong. There was no way that she just said the L word like it was nothing; maybe it was the heat of the moment, yeah…
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fangirl-dot-com · 1 month
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Chapter 23 - The Dutch Anthem on Repeat
Guys, I think I can finally upload on a regular basis if I can do every Friday and Wednesday? If that's ok? I'm hoping that it will work well for everyone!
This chapter made me laugh, and I remember someone asking for more Grandpa Nando so he makes a good appearance in this one!
Like always, comments, questions, concerns, reblogs and likes are always appreciated! Please enjoy!
Max, along with everyone, was used to hearing the Dutch National Anthem. Sure, everyone joked that it was the Formula 1 outro, but that was life. It wasn’t Max’s fault that he kept winning. Everyone just needed a new and better car to keep up. As he walked into the garage, he knew he was expecting to possibly hear it at the very end of Sunday. 
What he didn’t expect was when his foot hit the concrete, the song started blasting through the speaker. The mechanics were trying to hid giggles behind their hands as they watched the confused driver try to find where the sound was coming from. When it suddenly stopped, he got even more confused. 
He looked at the mechanics. 
“Have you seen the kid anywhere?” 
Henry, one of the men that worked on your car, responded, “She’s been in her room since she got here this morning.” 
Max let out a tight “thanks” before heading that way. He expected you to be hiding something, but you were peacefully taking a nap with your headphones on. The gag gift that he got you, a blanket with his face all over it, was curled up in your hands. His eyes softened as he walked over to gently wake you up. You did promise him lunch for that day. 
He rocked you a bit until you woke up. 
You rubbed your eyes as you sat up. “Hey Max.” 
A yawn escaped your lips. 
“Kid, you don’t have anything to do with the fact that the Dutch anthem played when I walked in?” 
“Huh?” you questioned, still really sleepy. 
Max just let it go. You seemed like you didn’t know what was going on. You quickly got ready, placing your race suit at your hips. 
When Max’s foot hit the concrete again, the anthem started to play. A groan left his lips as you looked around. 
The Dutchman looked down at you. “You had nothing to do with this?” 
You looked up at the older driver. “Nico took my boombox privileges away when I scared him last week.” 
You seemed pretty dejected at the thought of losing your boombox. 
Max just quickly kept walking out of the garage with you on his tail. The two of you conversed as you made your way to hospitality. You knew that Max had the priority for this race. It was his second home and you knew he wanted a win after what happened in Belgium. 
“So I’m thinking of holding a party after Monza at the house. What do you thing?” 
Max thought for a moment. 
“That’s a good idea. You going to take a car to the circuit.” 
You beamed at him. “Thinking of bringing the spaceship. What do you think?” 
Max opened the door to the hospitality, and before he could answer, the Dutch anthem started to play once again. He stopped dead in his tracks, causing you to thud into his back. 
You snorted as you heard the song play, causing Max to whip around. 
His eyebrow arched. “Sure you don’t have anything to do with this?”
You only shook your head before pushing past him, wanting to get lunch as quickly as possible. Max followed, suspiciously glaring at anyone who looked guilty. 
Lando was sitting in the corner, animatedly telling a story to Oscar, who looked dead inside (but was politely listening). 
In the middle, Lewis, Charles, and Carlos were all playing on their phones, empty plates sitting in front of him.
Max’s eyes looked back up to see you talking to Fernando. Your eyes were wide as you talked to the Spaniard. He made his way over to the line and grabbed a tray. With each step he took, he was nervous about setting off something that would start the song. When he walked to the table, he just looked at the chair. 
“Everything all right Max?” Lando asked from the corner, making everyone look at the Dutchman. His cheeks reddened under everyone’s gaze. 
You bit into your sandwich. “Each time he’s walked into or out of a building, the Dutch national anthem plays.” 
“Sure it does,” Charles said, finally looking up from his phone. 
Now annoyed, Max sat down. Surprisingly nothing happened. He let out a content hum before biting into his food. 
However, the moment he took a bite, it stated to play again. Rounds of laughter fell from everyone’s lips as he sat there, looking sad with a bite of food in his mouth. 
Not wanting to sit anymore, he stood up abruptly and walked out with the tray. Yet, the song started over once he opened the door. A loud huff left his lips, which made everyone start laughing again. 
What he failed to notice was a camera set up in the corner of the room. You turned and looked at it, giving it a thumbs up. 
You wiped a tear from your eye. “Aw man, now he’s going to be mad.” You looked at one of the media personelle who was standing in the corner. He took the camera and just gave you a smile. 
“He’ll be mad at us, not at you.” 
You crossed your arms, not convinced in the slightest. Fernando gave you an upside down smile. 
“Come on niña, I’ll take you to Max.” 
He stood from the table, waiting for you to follow. Yet, you shook your head. 
“Nando, he’s going to be mad and all grumpy and I’m going to be at the receiving end of it in the car. He’s taken Charles out too many times.” 
“Hey!” 
Your eyebrows pinched as you looked up at the green-clad driver. Your eyes then looked back down at your food. 
Fernando sighed, knowing you weren’t going to budge. He turned around and walked out, without the Dutch national anthem playing. He stalked toward the Red Bull garage and was able to walk in. 
Every loved Fernando and had great respect for him. 
“Anyone know where I can find Max?” 
Christian spoke up from the corner. “He’s in his room. Is everything ok?” 
Fernando sighed as he rubbed his head. “For a prank, they got someone to play the Dutch National anthem every time Max did something. He got tired of it, so he stormed out. Now the kid thinks that he’s going to be mad at her all weekend. I’m just here to explain because she’s a bit nervous.” 
Christian had a sympathetic look on his face. He was sad that you thought that Max would ever be mad at you for something so trivial. 
The Briton nodded his head in the direction of Max’s driver room. “Second door on the left.” 
Fernando thanked him, before heading that way. He knocked once before the door swung open, sadly causing the anthem to play once again. 
Max deadpanned as he waited for the song to stop. 
“Is everything ok Fernando?” the Dutchman asked, trying to look around to see if you were there as well. His heart sank a bit when you weren’t seen. 
The elder sighed. “So your team thought it’d be a good video to play the anthem every time you did something.” 
Max winced. “Oh I know.” 
Fernando looked at him weirdly. 
“You don’t think I saw the dude with the camera in the corner of the garage or hospitality?” 
The Spaniard nodded. He knew a thing or two for spotting cameras on him. You get used to it after being in the field for so long. 
“Well, the kid thinks you were going to be mad if you knew that she was in on it.” 
Max’s eyebrows rose and his eyes widened. “Oh no no no. Doesn’t she know when I can tell that she’s not sleeping? She’s taken so many naps around me, that I know when she’s actually asleep.” 
Max had known from the beginning, since you never woke up so quickly. It always took a few nudges, not just one. And your headphones were off and you barely flinched when he approached you. He was actually amused that you had gone through all the trouble to seem innocent.
Fernando let out a long sigh. “I told her that you wouldn’t be angry or frustrated.” 
Max had a determined look. “Let’s go find her. She’s probably either in the Ferrari garage or McLaren.” 
“She’s in the Williams garage.” 
Max turned around. “How do you know this?” 
“It was supposed to be a joke, but she put me on her Life360. Said I was getting old and was at a higher risk of crashing outside of work.” 
Max let out a deep laugh at the imagination of you downloading Life360 onto Fernando’s phone. 
The two walked out of the garage (this time the anthem did not play) and toward Williams. The two got to catch up on something before they arrived. 
They saw the Thai driver first. 
“Alex have you see Y/n anywhere?” Max questioned, catching him off guard. 
He said nothing, but subtly tilted his head toward the back where Logan was awkwardly standing behind a box. Max’s eyes lit up at he looked at the American, who had a nervous look on his face. 
Max put a finger to his lips and saw Logan barely nod. He gingerly crossed the room and looked down. Behind said box, you were clinging to Logan’s leg, playing a game. 
He heard you snicker to yourself. “Max will never find me here.” 
“Sure kid.” 
He could have sworn he saw your soul leave your body as you jumped off of Logan’s leg. The American rolled his eyes before lifting you off the ground and placing you in front of the Dutch driver.
“I think this belongs to you.” 
All in the back, Fernando and Alex stood laughing behind their hands. 
You looked back at Logan. “Traitor.”
“Come on kid.” 
Max gently led you back to the Red Bull garage, but not without thanking Fernando for his help. The Spaniard only patted his back before returning to his own garage. Max watched as you begrudgingly walking in front of him. He quickened his steps to be right beside you. 
“I can hear your grumpiness from over here,” he tried to joke, yet stopped when he saw barely there tears in your lash line. 
He cooed as he tried to not let you cry.
“Kid I thought it was funny.” 
“Are you sure? You looked super unhappy after lunch.” You looked down and kicked a stone. 
“Y/n.” 
Oh, he said the name (and not the nickname). 
You sheepishly looked up at him. 
“I’m not mad. And if I was, I’d take it out on the media team and not you.” 
You smiled just a bit. “Promise?” 
“Promise. Now, let’s go kick some ass so we can listen to the Dutch National Anthem on the podium.” 
Race Results: 
Max Verstappen – 25 points 
Y/n L/n – 18 points 
Charles Leclerc – 16 points (fastest lap) 
Lewis Hamilton – 12 points 
Oscar Piastri – 11 points 
Alex Albon – 8 points 
George Russell – 6 points 
Logan Sargeant – 4 points 
Lance Stroll – 2 points 
Lando Norris – 1 point 
Fernando Alonso 
Niko Hulkenberg 
Kevin Magnussen 
Daniel Ricciardo 
Pierre Gasly 
Yuki Tsunoda 
Esteban Ocon
Valtteri Bottas 
Zhou Guanyu 
Carlos Sainz – DNF (engine failure) 
Champions Standings 
Max Verstappen – 309 points 
Charles Leclerc – 268 points 
Lando Norris – 190 points 
Y/n L/n – 181 points 
Carlos Sainz – 130 points 
Oscar Piastri – 118 points 
Lewis Hamilton – 105 points 
Alex Albon – 56 point 
George Russell – 54 points 
Fernando Alonso – 45 points 
Logan Sargeant – 36 points 
Daniel Ricciardo – 23 points 
Lance Stroll – 17 points 
Pierre Gasly - 12 points 
Valtteri Bottas – 13 points 
Yuki Tsunoda – 8 points
Zhou Guanyu – 1 point 
Nico Hulkenberg 
Kevin Magnussen 
Esteban Ocon 
Constructors Championship 
 Red Bull – 490 points 
Ferrari – 398 points 
McLaren – 308 points 
Mercedes – 159 points 
Williams – 92 points 
Aston Martin – 62 points 
Alpha Tauri – 31 points 
Alpha Romeo – 14 points 
Alpine – 12 points 
Haas – 0 points 
The cool wind of the Netherlands brushed up against your face as you stood on the second step. If your math was correct, you were still behind Lando in the championship by only 9 points. You’d make it up as long as you didn’t DNF for the rest of the season. 
You smiled as you heard the Dutch National Anthem for the umpteenth time that day. Your shoulders started to shake as it continued playing, which made Charles look at you and start laughing as well. Max watched with a grin on his face as you couldn’t contain yourself.
To the people down below, it looked like you were crying since you were wiping tears away (which you were, but the tears were from laughing too hard). Their hearts ached as you were on the second step once again, and not the top one. 
But, you were having the time of your life, spraying Max and Charles with loads of champagne. You were on a high right now, and nothing would stop it. You knew that later that night, you’d stay awake going over data and sim times. 
Because that second step was sweet, but the top step would be even sweeter. 
And you needed the win. 
You were starving. 
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mischiefmoons · 22 days
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solipsism
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a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader
words: 5.1k
summary: (post-TLT) drink responsibly… trouble doesn’t; you punch luke in this lol (novelization spoilers? kinda canon-compliant)
The one where you finally pray to Hestia to keep your home safe, even if he's also trying to destroy it. Luke visits you four times during college, in a timeline opposite to yours (doctor x river song-coded) (lore expansion & explanation here) (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)
a/n: i hurt myself with this one. anyways its canon (to me) that we’re roommates now !!!! more to come like i promised even during my birthday break ! scream at me in the comments and feel free to reblog :)
(post 3/6, edited/betad @hotchfiles )
solipsism (the idea that only one’s mind is sure to exist)
You didn’t mean to send a prayer out into the world so strong that it would will an apparition of an Olympian, but burning cookies seems to be your specialty. Arguably, they weren’t the good kind, just the ones you grab in the freezer aisle of Walmart, and still, somehow they set your fire alarm off. Opening a window and waving through the smoke— Hestia, goddess of the hearth and home was standing next to the rickety dining table you bought off Facebook marketplace. 
“Holy shit, you scared me!” 
There’s mirth in her eyes at your reaction, though for all you know it could be annoyance—it’s not often that an immortal could be badgered enough to reveal themselves for an accident like this one.
“Dionysus was right. You’re too much like him for your own good,” she grins, taking a seat at the table like she’s an old friend. There’s a warmth to her unlike anyone you’ve met before—fire crackling in her eyes and an aura of serenity swaddling the air that you’ve never felt before in your student accomodations.
“I’m sorry I just… with all due respect, what’s going on?”
You go to toss the hot tray of cookies in the trash bin, before hesitating and putting them on your nicest plate. A gentle shove slides them over the table to the goddess, and she takes a crunch out of one happily.
“You were praying,” she states, like its common knowledge, “so strongly, in fact, I thought I’d make a visit to one of my most loyal devotees. Though in this case, you’re the object of his devotion, yes?”
Your hands are clasped across your lap and a familiar feeling spreads through you, then she jerks her hand up and points, “There. You’re doing it again. Y’know, it’s about time you start reciprocating the effort. Hermes’ son prays for you with intention.” You were thinking about Luke before she appeared—and hope glimmered like a tiny open flame. It’s still there, in the slow beating of your heart.
“He’s waging war with the gods. I don’t think he prays to them anymore,” you reason. Luke's offerings to the hearth must have been extinguished by the wrath he’s rained on Camp Half-Blood by now. The perfect storm.
“Not when it comes to you. Mortals never fail to surprise me. But it seems you’re a special case, my sweet. He’s made a home of you.”
To love Luke feels like having to keep a secret and never being able to tell anyone, but Hestia reaches for your hands across the table and looks at you knowingly.
“When I gave up my seat on Olympus for your father it wasn’t a sign of weakness, even if I did it so that others could be happy. I think your soul is a lot like mine in that you’ve given up so much of what you want to protect others. In turn, he’s doing the best he can to protect you; I listen to him every day, sweet girl. You are not weak for loving him still. There are generations of strength in your bones.”
“What else am I supposed to do? I search for him in everyone I meet and I’m not sure I’ll ever find that type of love again.”
These are thoughts you’d never told anyone—not Annabeth, not your father, not even yourself and surely never aloud.
“I hope you never do,” the goddess says, and you know it too.
i. no winter lasts forever (a night out after a drive home from virginia)
Flick. Flick.
“Come on, Hestia. Not you too. Don’t fail me now,” you mumble. The frigid metal of your zippo lighter rubs against your thumbs as you cup it in your hands, shielding the tiny flame that fights the harsh winter wind. Trying to focus as you lean against the brick of the Inferno, you take a deep inhale of smoke to warm your bones. Healing was never supposed to be easy.
Breathe in.
It’s somewhat of a routine you’ve made since getting back from visiting Annie. You’re a regular at this pub now—not even acclimated to the ins and outs of your sleepy college town, and though you don’t know the name of the hall your classes are in, you do know there’s a barstool in the corner of the Inferno with your name on it. There’s something funny about using your father’s gift as a form of fake id, and you wonder if he knows how heavily you indulge in your vices. Five vodka redbulls down the hatch have your knees feeling weak under the alley light until a stranger looms over you like a shadow.
“Those things are gonna kill you one day.”
Breathe out.
“Gods willing,” you laugh, stumbling over your boots and Luke catches you like he was never meant to let you go in the first place. The leather of his jacket is musky and his hair is buzzed. 
Either you were wasted or uncaring of who he was (both), you toss him your car keys and climb into the passenger seat. It’s a silent ride to your apartment besides you giving him the directions and Luke wonders how bad he must have hurt you for you to lay out for a stranger and waste away like this. But he’s the farthest thing from a stranger, even in this error in time and you’re still the daughter of the god of wine so after the third time you try to put your key in the lock he helps you because he hopes you’ll let him in.
“Y’know Annie would get a kick out of your haircut. Come inside.”
You’ve always been able to see right through him.
He’s standing in the hallway with his hand around your waist and he’s already broken too many of the titan’s orders by being here, so he scoffs, “You’re not gonna remember this by morning.” But you leave the door open anyway, dragging him by the wrist and your hand still feels the same in his even after all this time. What more is there to resist when there’s not much left of him to lose? 
This is the last time, he reminds Kronos, and there are monstrous hands around his brain, but yours are still gently holding his heart. The little part of his soul that hasn’t been eaten away holds on for a bit longer, tethered to your being by the way your hands are tied.
“I can, if you want me to.” 
He looks ready for war, and he is— yet you have him following you around the tiny living room almost in a trace as your arms loop around his neck. Luke doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know if you’d want to see him sober, especially when his absence is still fresh for you.
“Baby you look different from the last time we met,” you slur, stepping onto his feet as he takes you for a spin around the coffee table, dancing in the quiet. He’s older than you’ve ever seen him, voice deeper and colder. This is not the boy that ran from you in the forest many months ago. This is a man who’s seen horrors you haven’t lived through yet. You can deduce that he’s the cause of them too.
“So do you. Though still as beautiful as I remember,” he whispers like he’ll get struck for saying it. Your eyes are unfocused as he inspects your face, still soft and young with hope. The titan grips his features now, almost burning through his sense of self—though it’s not tangible he wonders if you could see it.
“I see you all the time. I just… usually have to drink enough to make it feel real. I just miss you.”
He looks pained at your words, and for a moment you wonder if he even heard you. Luke pushes you towards your room, an aura of darkness spreading through him like fire but he relents, pushing past the flames. He’s on borrowed time now, but Luke would gladly waste those minutes tucking you into bed.
Lifting your arms up, he pulls an old shirt of his over your shoulders, and his eyes catch onto the fact that you’re still wearing the dragon scale necklace he made you. Luke digs through your medicine cabinet while you sloppily wash your face and his calloused hands rub serums and moisturizer into your cheeks like how you taught him once upon a time. These are the things he won’t forget. Kronos can take it all away, as long as he gets to keep you. You lean against his chest and shut your eyes, scared that if you open them again he won’t be there.
“You’re not supposed to be here, are you? Are you mine?”
“I’m always going to be yours,” he says with no hesitation, “Four years later, and there is still not one living thing worth losing you,” he says, lips chasing after your fingertips as you trace his jaw. Your eyes flutter in exhaustion, and Luke’s eyes survey your room and he finds traces of you that he’s missed as he rubs your back lovingly like he has all the time in the world.
Your hands cup his face, making him look at you, and he surrenders himself to you as you pull him into a kiss. He’s a ticking time bomb about to detonate in your arms. The warnings that Kronos is beating into his head is nothing compared to the pain of knowing he won’t be with you for much longer. And he kisses you like he could save you from his blaze by doing so, lips and tongue and shattered breath saying I’m here, and this is real. Maybe your worst vice is not being able to wean yourself off the taste of him.
“Tell me what I need to hear. Even if it’s not true…Even if you’re not real,” you say between gasps, and your position on his lap makes him wonder why he’d ever give the world up and burn it down when it’s sitting right here and staring at him with violet eyes.
“It’s always going to be you and me. I’ll love you until the end of my days and then some.”
You laugh in the way that drives him crazy—though he already is, for loving you still. Luke lost all sense of himself when he left camp four years ago. All that remains is you, pushing him so that his back hits the bedspread. He lets you consume what’s left of him, and he’s on fire.
You wake up the next morning with a jolt. It’s still winter, and you’re still alone but despite the chill, you feel warm.
ii. autumn years (with a familiar visitor who finally shows up on time)
Knock, knock.
There’s someone at the door, but your date isn’t supposed to be here for another 10 minutes.
“Babe, someone’s here for you!” your roommate Jo calls out, and you tell her it’s fine to let them in.
The pantyhose clings to the lotion on your thighs and you fix the bracelet on your wrist, stepping out from the bathroom hollering, “You’re early, Kit! Don’t tell me you’re skipping to the good part; I’m a lady i–”
“Who’s Kit?”
Luke’s standing in the doorway of your bedroom and his eyes flit to the reflection of your naked back peeking through the undone zipper of your dress. You look stunning, lips painted red and eyes smoky, but you’re also furious. Too bad he’s always thought you looked extra hot when you’re mad.
“None of your business. As you can see, I don’t exactly have the time for this, Castellan.”
He shrugs, closing the door behind him gently and with the raise of his brow, Luke is leering at you like a teenage boy. Respectfully, of course. The glint of celestial bronze against his hip reminds you who he’s become though.
“I’ll make the time if you say the words, trouble.”
Sighing, you step forward, but then he does that thing again from the last time you saw him out on sea, twisting the crick in his neck like he has to resist your touch.
“You’re still funny. Some old habits die hard I guess,” you scoff, turning and lifting your hair out of the way so that he can zip you up. He opts to not touch you, sliding the dress closed until it fits against your body. You think you can feel his fingers ghost above your skin, and goosebumps rise where he leaves and his breath is warm on the back of your neck.
“Leave your weapons at the door. I run a tight ship, unlike you.” 
Gliding away from him while his hands are still in the air, you turn and sit at the edge of your bed, crossing your legs as you nod at him. Luke picks up the pair of heels next to where he sets the sword against the wall, and like it’s nothing out of the sort, he gets on his knees. You offer a foot to him while he speaks, “I could tell by the taser on your bedside table. You’ve killed monsters before, why a taser?”
There’s freckles on his tanned cheeks and he smells like the sun. You wonder what he’s done to come see you tonight.
“I’ve found out that not all monsters are mythical. When…are you?”
His eyes dart away from yours, securing the buckles on your ankles, and his touch sears through the mesh of your pantyhose.
“A few months ahead.”
There’s an eyelash on his nose, and your finger reaches out to touch it, but he flinches away. Face pulling into a frown, you spit, “You never slow down enough to let me catch up with you, huh?”
You can hear the microwave whirring in the kitchen, your roommate none the wiser of the sound of two hearts breaking. The both of you suddenly realize this is the first time you two have been alone (and the same age) since he left camp. There’s a silent question of if it will ever happen again as he gets up from the floor.
“So you’re seeing other people. Must’ve been easy, h—”
You punch him in the face before he finishes speaking, and all he can do is laugh. You would never let him off so easily.
“Fuck you. What, you think you can just hop in here and act like everything’s okay? What do you want, Castellan? For me to grovel at your feet and beg for you to fix what you broke?”
And you’re right, he supposes. This is the closest to peace that you’ll get in this life you’ve created without him. He won’t be able to take you on nice dinner dates like Kit can, or hold your hand without feeling like fate is going to smite him for existing. You scoff at the lack of his response.
“What happens next?”
Luke watches you chew on your lip, and even if he shouldn’t touch you in fear that you’ll will away his reason for defecting, by the gods does he want to.
“What do you mean?” he mutters. The cord of his necklace is tucked into your dress now that he looks closer.
“If I’m right,” you say (and it’s rare that you’re not), “each version of you that comes to see me knows less, and each time I see you I learn more. You were 23 last time. Why didn’t you see me at 22?” You know he won’t have an answer, but this is the only time you’ll be able to ask the real him. The one that’s yours, just a few steps ahead.
“There’s already been a lot that’s happened since I last saw you.”
“Are you going to hurt me?” you offer him, like he hasn’t already. He can feel the bruise blooming on his cheekbone and he grimaces with what he’s about to say.
“Never intentionally. I’ll try not to.”
It sounds stupid coming out of his mouth and you feel stupid with how empty you feel just watching him. He’s made a home of you, choosing moments in time to visit, but when he inevitably leaves, then what? Luke taught you how to be a home, forgetting you exist until it’s convenient and now there are things about yourself that you can’t unlearn yet don’t know what to do with.
Your roommate knocks on your door asking if you want a shot of vodka before your date starts, and Luke is already walking towards it since he’s overstayed his welcome. He raises his sword to open a portal but you shake your head.
“Go out the way you came,” you swallow, fiddling with the copper pendant around your neck, “and take the purple umbrella in the hall. It’s raining outside.”
When you walk into the kitchen moments later, the front door shuts gently and Jo’s sitting at the table with a mouthful of ramen noodles.
“Is he warming up the car? Your date’s hot as fuck, babe,” she grins, steam coating her glasses.
Knock, knock.
Your phone buzzes and there’s another knock at the door. Kit is 15 minutes late.
iii. auld lang syne (ringing in the new year with an old friend, or more)
Your apartment is filled with friends and acquaintances, but who the fuck cares anyway? There’s 10 minutes to midnight and you’re crossed out of your mind. Holding onto a half-empty bottle of prosecco, your heels clomp over to the window in the living room as you crawl onto the fire escape. 
Clack, clack.
The air is chilly as you hug yourself, and you hear someone step out onto the stairs behind you. 
“What are you doing out here alone?”
You sigh, not even turning to look at him, “What are you doing here, period?”
He takes the bottle of prosecco out of your hands, making you swivel your head to look at him as he takes a big gulp. He’s younger again, and it makes you laugh at how fucked up your luck must be to never be able to see him when you want. It’s always been on Luke’s terms.
“You’re too young to be drinking that,” you drawl, knees bumping against his when he takes a seat next to you. Long Island is quiet at night, and the lack of city lights is nice when you can see the stars so clearly. Music blares through your JBL speaker in the living room, and the sound of cheers gets louder when The Neighborhood starts playing.
“We used to do worse,” he laughs, but something in it sounds hollow. The breeze picks up and you shiver, taking the bottle back from him and swigging it.
“All these visits…you sure do know how to make a girl feel special. But you never come in the summer.” 
He clears his throat, before leaning back on his elbows, “ I haven’t gone a summer without you since we were 14.” This Luke doesn’t know what’s ahead of him yet, but you realize that he’s right. Even now, he keeps up the habit of pissing you off and raising hell on Camp Half-Blood every summer. You notice he’s not wearing his camp beads, and he notices you shiver again in the chill. 
Clack, clack.
Your heels rattle the metal of the fire escape as you readjust your position. He takes off his jacket to sling it around your shoulders and neither of you realize you’ve missed the countdown until fireworks burst in the sky above you. The red and blue reflect off the planes of his face, but what stands out to you is the orange of his shirt, and you comprehend now where he just came from.
“I had to see you. I didn’t get to say goodbye when I left,” he says, and you take another sip before handing him the bottle to finish off. The only new years’ kiss you’re getting is through the lips that hold the last remaining drops of prosecco. 
You nod, remembering it all too well as you both watch the fireworks in silence. He wasn’t able to watch them properly the last time he was with you, Annie, and Percy just a few hours prior.
iv. spring cleaning (only big days are ahead for the both of you) 
It’s quiet in your college apartment this morning. 
The moving boxes are half-packed and stacked against the wall of the entryway and the smell of freshly brewed coffee in the French press on your kitchen counter permeates the air. Perhaps the idea of caffeine is the last thing on your mind, hands twitching as they smooth over the black polyester of your graduation regalia. There’s a few hours still before the ceremony, but you’ve never liked being unprepared. Pollux is driving your dad down the Island because despite the war you’ll inevitably be fighting in once you cross the stage and get your degree, D specifically told Zeus that he’d wage another if he was made to miss your big day.
Parting your hair to fit under the ugly graduation cap, the tassel swings in front of your face as you grab a few bobby pins from the side table. A golden medallion of Castor’s smiling face almost whips into your cornea and you stifle a laugh. D said in his Iris message last night that all three of them would cheer so loud you’d be able to hear it from Elysium (and honestly, jokes aside—he probably has a way of making that happen). A staggered breath leaves your lungs, and you’re filled with anticipation, though you’re not sure what for. 
Time is a thief and you know that too well by now. After all, you’ve spent the past four years running from the truth of your heritage—dodging monsters between study sessions and grief welcoming you every time you come home. Four years later, and who are you trying to fool? While walking across that stage later you might as well take a bow. After all, your ex-boyfriend is the reason why there’s going to be a war of both blood and ichor, mortal and undying and still, you find yourself in the middle of it. You’ve found yourself fielding questions this last semester like dodging celestial bronze, the questions always a little too close to home and the answers you give are too entertaining to be considered the truth.
So, what are your future plans? 
Oh no big deal, just going home and dealing with generations-old family drama. If it drives me crazy enough I might enlist! 
Gods. 
How do you even articulate that these past few years were those future plans? That you didn’t expect to be alive this long, much less have the comfort of feeling secure enough to dream… It’s been years since you’ve had a good dream to work towards with a boy you once knew holding your hand through it all. But the expensive piece of paper you’ll be receiving later feels fake somehow. 
Who does that belong to? Surely not you…surely, someone who dreams without bearing the weight that comes with it. Someone who doesn’t have to look over their shoulder everytime they walk to work in the mornings, who can convince children that monsters aren’t real without having to lie. Psychology was a great field to learn from the mortal side of things—to know the reasons why brain chemistry affects us so deeply instead of just willing it away with the touch of your fingers. You like making people feel better. But who can ever do that for you?
A gust of wind sweeps through your room, the multicolored tassels hanging off your neck swaying from the force and you shut your eyes knowing he’s there again. Citrus and musk, and something that’s just him. He knocks over your hamper, cussing under his breath until his eyes follow your motionless figure in front of the mirror.
“Shit. I can explain, um… I thought you’d still be asleep,” Luke sputters, his converse falling into your laundry pile like quicksand. He bends over, stuffing your pajamas and sweatshirts back into the bin with fidgety hands as his eyes take a quick scan of your room. There are no pictures of you and him on the bedside table. For a moment, he wonders what that means but then his cheeks redden when he picks up a pair of your lacy underwear. He shoves that down too.
“Big day today. You know I can’t sleep when I know something is about to happen,” you smile wistfully, and you keep your eyes shut for longer, because like this, it’s almost like he’s actually there in real time. In a world where things went your way, this would be his apartment too, and his clothes would be scattered around your shared bedroom like how they used to back in cabin 12. You always used to put them on The Chair, as he would call it—but Luke’s known to make a mess of your life regardless of your efforts.
“When isn’t there? Something’s always going on when you’re around, trouble.”
Click. Scattered memories flicker in your head like images through a view-finder, spinning through your vision as you hear the sound of his laughter, gently tapping away at your heart again. Click. In the ones you pre-selected, he’s draped in sunlight, honey eyes sweet and kind, and his kisses are perpetual instead of an indulgence. Click. He’s always wearing faded orange, worn-out, but most of all well-loved. Click.
You open your eyes and they meet his own in the mirror. Time stops for once, letting you catch your breath.
Right now, he looks just as you like to remember him, as you knew him four years ago. Multicolored camp beads are resting easily against his broad neck instead of weighing him down, and he’s wearing the red converse his dad gave him. He’s too young, and so in love with you that it blinds him, but even then…now, he knows the look on your face and it makes him ask, “It’s not my first time visiting you is it?”
“You’re usually more discreet, the door right behind me wouldn’t have been your first option. But you’ve never failed to surprise me before. Tell me about your day, Luke.”
A hesitant smile crosses his face as he sheathes Backbiter against his hip, adjusting under the weight like he’s not used to it yet, and then he speaks, “We ate strawberries in the fields today, straight off the vine, but I argued that the ones you conjure will always taste sweeter to me. You smushed one against my face and I carried you home. You?”
You nod, turning around to face a ghost of your past, and the both of you meet in the middle only a hairs distance away as you admire each other.
“I graduate today. Annabeth’s driving up with her boyfriend and the rest of my family is coming to celebrate.”
He doesn’t know of Percy yet, of Chris’ insanity, of your brother’s death, and the immense hurt he’s caused everyone. The smile that lights up his face makes you realize he thinks he's still a part of this—you. And you miss him—even when he’s right here, fuck, you miss all the versions of him that have come to visit, even the ones you don’t know of yet. Tears brim your waterline as you take a deep breath; the last thing you want to do is scare him away.
“This was his promise to me. By showing me something I was sure of—and I always knew you’d graduate and make it big. Wanted to see it for myself, baby,” he grins, tangling his fingers with yours like your strings of fate, and though you know the answer to your next question you still take a chance, just in case.
“If I tell you what’s happened since…you. Would it be too late to change your mind?”
“Trouble, do you want me to? Kronos’ plan is already set in motion. I think…” he swallows, and your vision blurs without your permission as tears start to fall. Through the film over your violet eyes, Luke frowns and pulls your fingertips to his lips, kissing each one. He hasn’t done that in years.
“Did I make a mistake? Do I lose you, in the end?”
“Angelface…” you sniff, leaning your cheek against his hand, “You were so scared of losing me that you didn't even stop to think of what losing you would do to me. I lost you so long ago, Luke. And you’re not mine anymore. I don't think you have been in a long time.” In these heels, your forehead is closer to his lips so he kisses that too, hoping that somehow this time he can will away your pain instead of his. He doesn’t know what to do but hold you until you say something again.
“I’ll tell you something you need to hear. And no matter what you say or think, babe—it’s the truth. Even without all the glory in the world I would still be yours. I still am, even if I can’t bear it.”
Though he’s holding you, it somehow feels like the opposite—a purer version of him in your embrace while he holds the broken pieces of you together with his golden touch. Right now, you look into honey instead of gold. The both of you look at each other in the mirror melded together like kintsugi, something good still shining through the cracks of you two together like this.
The sound of keys jangling in the lock of the front door lifts you from his embrace, and with one look you both know its time for him to go; Luke’s brows furrow as he mutters, “I’m sorry. I’ll fix this, and we’ll be together. I promise.” You nod anyway, hoping at least one of you believe it.
“Go home, Luke. She…I still need you. I’m always gonna.”
He’s already got Backbiter in hand and one foot through time when he looks back at you. Your voice sounds a lot like how it does when you tell him you love him. Luke wonders how long it’s been since you did. Your bedroom door opens with a bang and some laughter.
“Hey troublemaker, you left the dryer on! All your clothes are gonna shrink,” Jo grins, peeking her head through the doorway of your room and she’s looking at you in your graduation gown standing there alone.
“Were you on the phone? Who were you talking to?”
It’s quiet in the apartment again. Your fingernails make indents in your palms, bunching up into fists before you let go. A sad smile crosses your face as you let the settling wind kiss your cheeks, before reality kicks in and everything settles back to how it was before. 
“Just someone I used to know.”
“And no one can ever figure out what you want, and you won’t tell them, and you realize the one person in the world who loves you isn’t the one you thought it would be, and you don’t trust him to love you in a way you would enjoy.” -Richard Siken
luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?)
1/2 luke taglist: @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko@bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303  @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r@visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri
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lizziesfirstwife · 1 year
Text
Yearning
✿ neteyam x fem!reader ✿
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➳ summary: neteyam and you have been crushing on each other for the longest time, with a lot of built-up tension. However, neither of you expected his parents to get in the way of your love.
➳ warnings: him and reader aged up, tiny bit of angst, mention of readers parents being dead, neteyam and you pining over eachother, slight talks about arranged marriage/ mates if you squint, fluff at the end
➳ note: this is my first avatar work, so please be nice! Reblogs, comments, and likes are appreciated <3
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You were fed up. Fed up with his longing stares, and especially with the looks the other villagers gave you. Like you couldn't hear the whispers. As if you couldn't feel their condescending looks. Him staring at you only made matters worse for the fact.
Neteyam couldn't care less about the villagers. Hell, he didn't even know what exactly they were whispering about. Their disparaging looks didn't make it too difficult to figure out, though. You were perfect in his eyes. You had never judged him when he cried in your arms at night, while he let down the long-since-built walls, constructed as a consequence of his father's harsh words.
Neytiri could only shake her head, amazed at the similarities between her firstborn and her husband. They were both lovable, but when it came to showing that love outwardly to those they loved, embarrassment appeared quicker than she could shoot an arrow. Too many times she's had to wake you up late at night and send you home when you and Neteyam have been fooling around late into the night about some topic she thought was silly, and ended up falling asleep half on top of one another. A true masterpiece, as she would call it. And not infrequently, an unmissable blush would appear on Neteyam's cheeks as soon as she would mention it. With the number of times this already has happened, Jake was more than confused about the sudden change of color on his son's face, only for Neytiri to displeasingly shake her head. Sully boys and love, like she said.
For the two of you, there was only one thing: you would make fun of his little brother for the rest of your days. As friends. What else?
Your parents died in an attack by the sky people just before the Sullys decided to seek out another clan for the safety of their people. You didn't let go of Neteyam's arms for nights on end, and even though your nails were digging into his back, almost painfully, and his chest was smooth with tears, he never sent you away. It wasn't a difficult decision to go with him. Who else did you have?
You walked arm in arm along the beach. The sun shone down on you relentlessly, pleasantly beating down your hair, and warming your skin. You could still feel the freezing wind that blew over the sea, grateful more than ever for the weather Eywa blessed you with after your long journey. Thanks to Neteyam, you had a not-too-hard time arriving, Tuk however took it the hardest. The eight-year-old still refused to make friends her age, instead clinging to her siblings whenever possible. Jake and Neytiri were usually too busy with clan affairs, which hit the youngest harder than she admitted. Lo'ak, however, preferred to spend his time with a certain curly-haired Na'vi. Surely it wasn't on purpose, but an eight-year-old would hardly understand that. Kiri was mostly out in the ocean anyway and didn't come back until late in the evening with a handful of accessories. No way you had a problem taking care of her! But in moments like these, when you were just a girl and Neteyam just a boy with no responsibilities, you were grateful more than ever for Eywa's blessing.
You were pulled out of your thoughts when you felt a prick in your upper left arm. A grin crossed Neteyam's face as you darted around to him, eyes narrowed and mouth wide open. He just shrugged his shoulders. "You could have just said no instead of scaring the hell out of me...looked like your mind left your body." You rolled your eyes. Neteyam has always been the more dramatic of the two of you, which has often shown to not be helpful in the most harmless situations. Neither of you would ever forget the incident with the pa'li, nor Neytiri's 3-hour-long debark. Since then you have never dared to ride one of these creatures again, which couldn't be said of Neteyam. Of course not. He needed adventure like air to breathe, and adventure needed him just as equally.
His long fingers wandered from your shoulder to your waist, where they lingered comfortably. You couldn't help but feel how your breath quickened and your body tingled where it touched Neteyam's. You prayed to Eywa that he couldn't feel how fast your heart was beating. More and more often lately, the eldest Sully boy didn't even have to touch you to get that kind of reaction out of you. But when he touched you... Suddenly you were very aware of his big hand on your waist, the way his fingers dug into the flesh...
"Y/N? Y/N! Wiya, you did it again! Seems like you don't even want to listen to me anymore..."
Pushing the inappropriate thoughts out of your head, you shook your head violently. "Teyam, no! It's just... I don't know. Everything feels so different lately. As if this peace were just a cruel dream, and we could wake up to reality at any moment."
His gaze softened, gently pulling you towards him so that your entire left half was now pressed against his right. "If this was a dream, I'd be glad you were in it. Maybe this is just a dream, so what? Then this would be the best dream ever." He playfully pinched your waist, which elicited an angry squeak. Quickly he averted his eyes and cleared his throat, missing the way your entire face was blushing. Eywa, this must certainly be a dream, he thought. He swallowed hard, looked up at the sky, and then back into your eyes. "My mom keeps asking about you. I think if you don't come to dinner tonight she'll wring my neck herself."
You grinned. "That would be too bad..." He looked at you in mock indignation but couldn't help the laughter that escaped his throat. "So, you'll come? For my mom?", he asked, looking at you with his puppy eyes. Your knees almost buckled at the sight, but you managed to look at him with a pursed mouth. "For your mom? Neteyam, if that's just another excuse to put those nasty leaves in my food that give me a rash-" "It was one time! Lo'ak threatened to push me off my ikran the next time we would have a mission again!", he interrupted you, but quickly closed his mouth when he saw the look in your eyes. Sometimes you were more like his mother than he would have liked. He had apologized to you for hours at the time and sat in front of your tent for 2 days because you had given him the cold shoulder. He could take it that you were mad at him, but it felt as if some part of him was missing when you weren't with him. There was a heavy storm at the time, and he would probably have frozen to death from all the rain and wind if you hadn't dragged him into your tent with your own hands and forced him to eat. He refused to even touch the food until you accepted his apology. Eywa, could he be stubborn...
Slowly you started to walk on, dragging Neteyam with you. You couldn't stay mad at him for long. Not your Neteyam. You breathed in slowly and audibly, a smile again creeping its way onto your face. "How could I ever turn down your mother's food..."
"And then Neteyam here said that he didn't have to bathe for 2 weeks as a protest, just because I pointed out to him that he would scare away the whole prey with such a stench," Neytiri said with a full mouth, a handful of bladder polyps on her plate. The plant's salty taste was delicious, leaving a tingling sensation on your tongue after you chew and swallow it. Jake once compared its taste to the one of a pickle, whatever that was.
Neteyam's face flushed, his eyes grazing yours to see if you even caught his mother's words. He was suddenly very aware of your proximity. How your thigh grazed his, or the sweet smell of the perfume that Tsireya must have given you. He would always prefer your natural scent but still could only pray that his body wouldn't betray him during the duration of this meal. He prayed.
Jake cleared his throat and almost all conversation ceased except for Kiri's soft chatter with Tuk. He admonished the two with a quick look but didn't bother any further with their talk. "This wonderful dinner, prepared by my wonderful mate", he said with a loving gaze toward Neytiri, "finally gives us a chance to get together again. There is much that needs to be talked about, some urgent matters that take priority." Neteyam looked at him warily, not quite taking his gaze off of you yet. Jake was now facing Neteyam, who was switching from looking at you and his father. "As you surely know, the time has come in your life when you have to make certain decisions. Coupled with the rumors going around... Neteyam, you need a mate."
He could have also set fire to the tent, and thrown the entirety of you into the ocean. The sound that escaped from your throat sounded almost outraged. Neteyam swallowed hard, trying to hide the sweat from his hands. There was no way his father chose to have this conversation the one time you agreed on having dinner with him.
"Do we have to have this conversation when Y/N's over?"
"Don't worry, Y/N was expected to have this conversation in a few days as well. Having her eat here with us today only avoids unnecessary complications," Jake dismissed. Neytiri had a look in her eyes that you couldn't read, looking down at her plate vehemently. Tuk's and Kiri's conversation had also fallen silent in the meantime, the two girls now doing the same as their mother, although you could see Tuk sneakily glancing up at what her father was saying.
Neteyam shook his head, but Jake warned him with a look you've seen all too often on the father's face. "Rumors are floating around Neteyam... rumors that you've already chosen someone. Do you know how much concern these rumors are causing? And guess who the number 1 guess is." You knew he meant you. And from the way Neteyams ears twitched, you knew that he was aware of that too.
Neteyam hoped that if everyone saw him with you, they would finally understand that he wasn't interested in anyone else, and certainly never would be. But it rather seemed like it had the opposite effect.
Jake's gaze softened a bit after looking at his wife's reaction. It seemed like she wasn't particularly excited to have this conversation, particularly not with you there to witness it. "I don't want to deprive you of your freedom of choice by any means son, but since you refuse to take Y/N as your-", he started, but Neteyam interrupted him with a snarl. "How many times do I have to tell you that we're friends? Friends! You act like the clan will throw us out if I don't choose a woman tomorrow." But the head of the family did not put up with any arguments. He raised his hand to signal Neteyam to be quiet. "We're lucky the clan took us so well. And surely no one cares that you're still unmated, but do you really want people to start talking? Especially about Y/N, who certainly has nothing to do with your situation."
Neteyam said nothing. He just looked down at his plate, defeated, all appetite driven away. It shouldn't bother you that much. You guys were friends after all, best friends if you can put it that way. But that he preferred to be the number one topic of conversation, instead of even considering mating with you...
No. No. No. You couldn't think like that. It was Neteyam after all! Your accommodating, incredibly considerate Neteyam, whom you would like to wring his neck for all the feelings he aroused in you. You didn't even notice your feet carrying you out of the tent, nor Neytiri's worried look, or Tuk's plaintive call of your name.
Maybe you were wrong. Maybe it wasn't just Neteyam who needed adventure in his life to survive. And perhaps it was Neteyam who was the real adventure in your life. Who was your adventure...
The waves were unusually calm as you were sitting on the sand with Tsireya by your side as if Eywa sensed how shaken you were. It has been a week since the incident at the Sullys. You were thankful more than ever to have your own tent, as you didn't want any confrontation with Neteyam or his parents yet. You weren't sure if you would ever want that. Tsireya must have noticed your sudden change in mood because she said nothing, instead sitting next to you while the two of you worked on a necklace. She firmly believed that being creative and doing something was a great help against bad moods. And truly, you haven't felt at peace like that since before the dinner a week ago.
Your fingers almost hurt from the repeating motion you had to do to create the certain pearl pattern you wanted in your necklace, when you suddenly heard voices behind you. No no no. Your field of vision was suddenly blocked from the sun, and you had to tilt your neck uncomfortably to face the source of your problems. Of course, your moment of peace had to be interrupted by him. Neteyam Sully had his hands clasped behind his back and his expression seemed blank, were it not for the small smile that had long been reserved just for you. Tsireya looked back and forth between you, asking you with a silent look if this was okay with you. You just nodded slightly, never taking your eyes off Neteyam. Taking the hint, she took her unfinished necklace and quietly snuck away.
Neteyam looked after her until she disappeared from his sight, and then took the spot next to you where Tsireya just sat. Neither of you said anything for a few minutes until he finally spoke. "You know, my mom almost killed me when I didn't run after you." You didn't say anything, which he took with a nod and the sign to continue. "I never really paid attention to girls when I grew up. Why should I when I grew up with the best of them?" You slowly turned to him and realized that his eyes were on you. You almost stood up, if his eyes didn't have that pleading look in them. So you just continued to listen.
"I've never questioned my disinterest in girls growing up, thinking that the right one just hadn't walked into my life yet. But I was stupid, so stupid. Eywa, I probably still am." You couldn't help but grin at his words, and he laughed at how easily he could coax a reaction out of you. Slowly, not wanting to scare you away, he slipped his hands into yours so that you were now facing him. "Y/N... I never saw it. I never understood why my parents never wanted to stop teasing me about you. But I guess I didn't want to see it. Didn't want to realize that there was a possibility, a big one at that, that you might not feel the same as I do." Your heart was beating wildly, and you thought for a moment that he could hear how wildly it was beating, how wildly it was beating for him, when his gaze slid to your chest and then up again. He gently squeezed your hand, unconsciously stroking the back of your hand with his thumb soothingly.
You knew what he was getting at, the look in his eyes almost unbearable. You didn't know what you were supposed to say, your throat feeling tight all of a sudden, unable to get any sound out of it. So you just scooted closer to him, your chest now barely touching his. "I always thought there was something wrong with me. That I wasn't in a position to like the chief's son even a little bit more than his best friend should. But..." You looked up at him desperate, gazing at his lips for a short second. His pupils dilated with something indescribable at seeing your flushed cheeks and blown eyes. You could have sworn that the air around you was buzzing. No words needed to be said as you two stared at each other, no words to express the magnitude of feelings that existed between you.
"Neteyam, I-"
"I see you Y/N."
You sat there with a dumbfounded look on your face, mouth wide open at the fact that he shamelessly interrupted your confession. Part of you wanted to smack him in the chest for that, but you were sure that any more physical contact would make your heart actually fail. He saw you. He is seeing you.
Neteyam didn't know how you managed to smile that hard, or how his heart could beat as hard as it was right now, but Eywa would he put up with it a thousand times more if it meant he would be able to see that look on your face again.
"I see you too, skxawng."
You didn't want to think of all the consequences that this moment would bring, or how tomorrow would be after you woke up and the situation would sink in your head.
You were right. He was your adventure, but you were also his. He needed adventure like he needed air to breathe, and for the first time in ages, it felt like he was finally able to again.
With you.
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yesimwriting · 2 months
Note
OKAY idk if you keep taking thoughts but this IS the dynamic I had thought for Felix since DAY ONE, so of course I need more best friend!felix and maybe this one is a typical one but...
The jealousy??? like this man is very facial and expressive and protective, especially towards the reader.... so I thought about him watching any of his friends flirting with them? And maybe also being way too touchy? You can decide if reader is comfortable in all that or not (I think she wouldn't), but having him like trying not to be a dick but also like needing to, like they're my best friend shush so yeah, I'd love it if you could write something like that! thankss
a/n omg that one scene in saltburn where felix is like 'you're my friend,, you're supposed to be here with me' yeah i knew immediately
----
"Sorry, darling." Despite the soft, almost far off cadence of Farleigh's voice, his words manage to cut through the atmosphere of the party. He leans forward, handing off his half finished joint to the girl standing next to you. "This stuff's heavy, and I don't need Felix on me tonight."
You frown. His denial doesn't get to you as much as the way he's framing it. Like you're a child that needs to be looked after. Like you're Felix's property.
If you weren't already a few drinks in, you'd dismiss Farleigh's words with an eye roll. The buzz burning in your veins latches onto that pinch of irritation. The full sounding giggle that comes from the nameless girl by your side only amplifies the feeling. "I don't do everything Felix says."
"No," he agrees, "You do just enough to be a good, little pet." You cross your arms in front of your chest, tilting your head to better glare at him.
The feel of something touching your shoulder cracks the tension. Your head turns. Felix. Despite your annoyance, Felix's sudden appearance at your side has you easing. He leans forward, pressing a kiss against your cheek near the corner of your mouth. "I was looking for you."
You smile, placing your hand over the one Felix still has on your shoulder. "You seemed busy, decided to take a lap."
He brushes his thumb against your shoulder. "Never too busy for you, darling." Felix has a way of making things that should feel just polite sound genuine. "How're you doing?"
"Farleigh's being mean."
"Didn't let her smoke." Farleigh explains flatly, taking the joint back from the girl. "After the way you reacted last time, it wasn't worth it."
Felix squeezes your arm. "That true?" You're not given a chance to respond. "You know how you get. Especially after drinking." You blink at him, eyes wide and lips pressed together. "Don't give me that look." It's too gentle to be a scolding. "We can smoke when you're sober, if you want."
You're not one to crave getting high too often. There's a sluggishness to it that you have to be in a certain mood for. But something about smoking with Felix, in his room with the window open and the two of you lounging like the only things that matter are what's within arm's reach, is unbelievably soothing.
Even in your current state, you're fully aware of the fact that you're getting the better end of the deal. But with Farleigh's smug comment and that random girl that laughed still paying attention, you don't feel comfortable agreeing in front of everyone.
"You're looking for an excuse to argue." Ugh. The way he reads you is almost eerie. You press your lips together to keep from giggling, watching him carefully. You shake your head, a flimsy attempt at denial. "Yes." Felix leans closer, grinning. He drapes an arm around your back, pulling you against his chest. " I can see it in your eyes."
"My eyes are innocent."
His freehand moves to hold your chin, angling your head to better look you in the eye. He's focused, exuding more concentration than the moment warrants. That's the thing about Felix, crowded room or empty dorm, it doesn't matter. He has a talent for making anyone feel like the only person in the world.
"Hm," he hums, "You pass." Despite coming to a conclusion, he makes no effort to move away from you. "Want to get another drink?"
You nod, "Yeah."
"C'mon, then." He drops one arm, waving a halfhearted goodbye to Farleigh before guiding you forward.
Felix keeps an arm around your shoulders as you maneuver through the chaos of the party. It's instinct to accept his lead, a part of you more glad for it than usual. You're starting to feel fuzzy, and with Felix guiding you, it's safer to accept the sensation.
"Oh my god!" A squeal and then your name.
You turn your head, eyes landing on a familiar face from your lit class. "Daphne!" She's a newer friend that you mainly know from exchanging lecture notes and working on essays together. A part of you is surprised to see her here, but you guess you shouldn't be. Now that you're thinking about it, you feel like you've seen her around Felix's friends before. "Hey."
Daphne approaches you with a wide grin. "I didn't know you were here." She then glances to Felix, and then Felix's arm, and then back to Felix. "Hi, Felix."
If he notices Daphne's curious scrutiny, he gives no indication of it. "Hi, Daphne," he greets, confirming that they do run in the same circles.
She smiles politely before turning her attention back to you, "It's been a minute since I've seen you." Daphne tosses a glossy strand of hair over her shoulder. "We need to catch up, I found out the best thing about the girl that sits in the front row that always tells everyone her grades."
"Bragger girl? She's the worst."
"Oh, you have no idea."
Felix squeezes your arm, turning your attention back towards him. "I'll get you your drink, you catch up with your friend." You beam at him as his arm gently moves off your shoulder.
As soon as he's disappeared into the crowd, Daphne gasps, "Oh my god, whatever's going on there is better than my bragger girl story."
You blink. "What?" Confusion and Felix's absence make you feel slightly off balance. It takes you a moment to catch up. "Oh, Felix? We're friend." Daphne presses her lips together, the look she's giving you not entirely convinced. "C'mon, tell me about bragger girl."
"Okay." Daphne gestures to an empty coach that's been pushed against a wall. "Let's sit?"
The two of you make it to the edge of the room. Daphne's not shy about taking up space, letting her long legs extend into the start of where people might walk. She trusts the world to move for her. It hits you then that your friendship with Daphne, like your relationships with a lot of people you've been spending time with recently, doesn't make make sense on paper.
You sit, grateful for the chance to lean against something sturdy.
"Alright," Daphne starts, angling her body towards you, "Bragger girl--never's gotten an imperfect score girl--" She cuts herself off with a soft, tipsy giggle. "Is hooking up with the TA."
Oh, you're fully hooked. "What?" Daphne nods, expression satisfied. "No way." There's no way to prove the connection between that girl always managing to beat your scores by a few points and any of her personal relationships, but come on. "Wait--with--with which one--the tall one or--or the one with the--" You're too out of it to recall a good descriptor, "Hair."
Daphne laughs again, "Hair?" You shrug at her. "Doesn't matter how little sense that makes, because that's the--the best part of the story." You nod, urging her. "She's hooking up with both of them."
You gasp. Oh my god, you cannot wait for Felix to get back so you can reiterate every detail of this. "Really?" Daphne giggles, nodding her head. "How do you know?"
"Okay," she crosses her legs, "So, I was at this ba--"
"Hey, Daphne," the voice is low and clumsy, over extending the second half of Daphne's name. Daphne looks up in time to see a guy sit on the couch's cushioned arm. "Who's your friend?"
Daphne throws you an apologetic look before turning back to the stranger. "Hi, John." She then introduces the two of you politely, presenting you as a friend from her intro to western lit class and John as someone from her econ class.
John doesn't even attempt to hide the fact that he's looking you over. You're not sure if it's the slightly glazed over quality to his eyes or his lack of shame gets to you. All you know is that some instinct tells you to be wary.
He tries your name on his lips, slurring slightly. "Why've I never seen you around?"
"Oh, I don't know," you try, tone much more sober than it was a moment ago, "I'm around, I guess. Here and there."
It's not your best small talk, but the only part of you that seems to be clinging to sobriety doesn't feel right. He's friends with Daphne, you tell yourself, you have no reason to believe he has bad intentions just because seems like he's had too much of whatever he's been having tonight.
John laughs, like your words were some obscure joke that he wants you to know he decoded. "So what do you do when you're not getting out?" He angles himself towards you, disregarding Daphne entirely. "I'm having a hard time picturing you in a library."
It's almost ironic enough to get you to laugh. John sees you here, he sees how you're dressed, and who you're with and just assumes that this is your regular state. And while there's nothing wrong with being the party girl type (some of your favorite people are that kind of person), it's just not who you are every night of the week.
"Actually, John," Daphne interjects, "She's really smart, like basically certified genius smart." You throw her a not so subtle look that says you feel like she's exaggerating. "What? I said basically." You don't look like you agree, "C'mon, even Dr. Alvero's said it, and he can't stand anyone."
"Really?" John moves to stand. "Dr. Alvero. His class is bloody murder." He takes a step towards you. "Maybe you could help me study sometime." You're too aware of the length of your dress, of your legs. "I'd pay you for your time."
There's something about the way he tacks on the reference to finances, an implication that burrows beneath your skin. That's the worst part of Oxford's elite, they assume that if you don't run in the same circles...that if you don't come from generational money, you have nothing. That you're in a position to bend to their every whim for what they consider petty cash.
"John," Daphne tries, voice hard.
"What?" John takes another step forward. "I said I'd pay her."
Indignance and nerves bond uncomfortably in the pit of your stomach. As much as you want to tell him off, the way he's looking at you leaves you frozen, and it's not like the two of you are in a private area. You don't want to be labeled as a hysterical drunk.
"Sweetheart." Felix is within reach.
You turn your head instinctually. He's less than a foot from the couch, holding a solo cup. Despite directly addressing you, Felix's attention is fully focused on John, who seems to have finally remembered the concept of personal space.
Felix walks past him without a second glance before sitting next to you. It's a squeeze, Felix's knee pressing into yours. "They ran out of cups, so I thought we could share." Felix extends his arm slightly, gesturing to his drink. "Have some."
You lift a hand to reach for the cup, but Felix shifts before you can actually attempt to take it. Confusion has you dropping your hand back to your lap. You don't get where he's going with this until he gently tilts the cup in a silent question. You nod.
Felix brings the drink to your lips, gently tilting the cup until its contents are down your throat. The alcohol burns slightly, but not overbearingly so, and the flavor is familiar. Your favorite drink.
He pulls the cup away, a drop of liquid sliding down the corner of your mouth. Felix's thumb wipes it away before it can reach your chin. He then brings his still damp thumb towards his mouth to clean it.
Heat roots itself in your chest and crawls up your neck. All of your discomfort, all of your worry from before feels far and abstract until Felix asks, "So, who's your friend?"
"Oh, uh--this is Daphne's friend, John."
Daphne nods, leaning forward to join your conversation, "Yeah, I know him from my econ class."
"Yeah, good to finally meet you, man. " Felix finally looks back at John. "I think my step-mother's friends with your mum."
Felix places an arm against the back of the couch, giving you space to relax against his side. A more sober you would have thought twice about giving in so quickly, but you're starting to feel light again. "Uh--Cindy Marin."
"Right!" John exhales, relieved, "Right."
Felix nods once before turning his attention back to you. "You ready to get out of here?" There's an assuredness in the way he asks the question that makes it seem like there's nothing of value left at a party that hasn't at all since he sat down. You nod. Felix leans towards you so that he can better look over your shoulder. "See you around, Daphne."
"Yeah, see you."
Felix gets up, immediately stealing the warmth and comfort he'd been providing while next to you. Something that you only very minorly resent him for. He offers you his hand as you stand, and that makes up for most of it.
You turn your head to say goodbye to Daphne. Now that Felix isn't looking, she grins at you before mouthing: that was hot.
You roll your eyes, hoping your feigned irritation is enough to cover any signs of being flustered. Especially when Felix pulls an arm around your shoulders.
"Bye, John," he mumbles, "Congratulate your step-mum for me, yeah?"
Felix guides you out of the party. Once the two of you are exposed to the cool, night air, Felix lets go of you. There's a stiffness to his release that gets to you.
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a box of cigarettes.
"Can I?" Your voice is smaller than you thought it'd be.
Felix pauses, thinking through your request before handing you the box. You smile as Felix leans towards you. You don't smoke--with the exception of an occasional drag from one of Felix's cigarettes--but you like lighting them for him.
You pull one from the box and place it between his parted lips. He hands you his lighter next. You spark it to life, bringing the flame to the cigarette's end. Felix takes a deep breath, letting the smoke fill his lungs before exhaling. He doesn't attempt to take your hand or place an arm around you again.
"Are you--" You're not even sure how to word it, "...Okay?"
He takes the cigarette between two fingers as he breathes out. "Fine." Felix inhales another drag. "Just didn't love the way that guy talked to you."
"If it helps, neither did I."
Felix glances over at you, eyebrows pulling together. "Then it's a good thing your best friend was there."
You roll your eyes fondly, fighting a grin, "You're always a good thing."
He looks down, his fingers brush against yours. You intertwine them, pulling his palm against yours. "Someone loves me."
You attempt to glare at him, but the look feels too sickeningly fond to come off as menacing. "Don't start."
His smile broadens. He squeezes your hand, thumb brushing against your knuckles. "Want to stay over tonight?"
"Yeah." You grin, body subconsciously leaning against his a little more. "Are you tired?"
Felix eyes you with exaggerated skepticism, "Why?"
"Wanted to know if you were in the mood to read to me tonight."
He smiles, angling his head to press a kiss against the top of your head. "Anything you want, lovie."
----
felix: oh my god,, i can't believe people treat you like that!! maybe you should borrow my last name for a little, just so that they leave you alone
taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains
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theemporium · 2 months
Note
jealous max and/or jealous trouble!!!
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
.
You were barely gone a few minutes before someone took your seat.
It wasn’t often you attended these events, mostly due to the fact it wasn’t often that Max liked to actually accept the invitation for them. But this one was mandatory and Christian had made it clear that he expected Max to make an appearance, and even dragged you into it too before Max tried to use Auggie as a scapegoat out of the event. 
So, against his better judgement, Max dusted off the same suit he wore to these events and splurged a stupid amount on a dress for you because, “if I have to attend this stupid event, at least give me something pretty to stare at, Trouble”. 
You had been sat in the seat beside him the whole night, trying your hardest to not laugh at the snarky comments he was whispering in your ear about other guests. You happily sat off to the side as a multitude of guests approached him because he was Max Verstappen and he was one of the most desired men in the room. 
You had squeezed his knee and muttered about going to the bathroom whilst he was finishing up a conversation with Christian and a potential sponsor, thinking nothing of it.
Except when you returned, some leggy model was in your seat. 
From the way Max was talking enthusiastically and moving his hands in wild motions, you knew he was talking about racing. You knew she had probably used it as a way to get into conversation with him. A part of you wanted to snort if she thought that was going anywhere when Max could talk to a brick wall about racing with how passionate he was.
And bless his heart, Max didn’t notice her ulterior motives. He didn’t think anything of someone discussing racing with him. He didn’t notice the way she laughed a little too hard or kept flicking her hair over her shoulder or the way her hand kept inching closer and closer to his on the table. 
You had no reason to doubt Max, but it didn’t stop a bitter feeling bubbling in your stomach—an urge to remind her that Max wasn’t interested. 
You made your way back towards the table with a sense of purpose in your stride. You didn’t even say anything as you reached the table, not even bothering to say a word to the model as you planted yourself on Max’s lap with an ease that came from being in a familiar position. 
Max didn’t even hesitate as his arms wound around your waist, as he shifted his legs so it would be more comfortable for you. But the model thought otherwise. 
“Uh, excuse me?” She said with a strained smile as she glanced between you and Max. 
“Sorry, my seat was taken,” you stated simply, your gaze not shifting away from hers as she squirmed a little in his seat. 
Max laughed a little, seemingly to finally catch on with the situation. “I’m not complaining,” he said with a cheeky grin. 
The model didn’t say much more after that, running off soon after with some shitty excuse and her tail between her legs. You watched her with narrowed eyes, making sure she returned to whatever table she had come from before your attention shifted back to your boyfriend. 
However, his grip on your waist only tightened before you could move off as he looked up at you with an amused expression on his face. 
“You’re cute when you’re jealous,” he noted, sounding utterly pleased. 
“She’s lucky she didn’t touch you or I would have to break her fingers,” you replied with a simple shrug. 
Max snorted. “You’d end up in jail then, Trouble.”
“And you’d bail me out,” you retorted with an innocent smile.
“Of course I would,” he murmured before leaning up to press a quick, chaste kiss on your lips that would be deemed appropriate at an event like this—even if you were still sat on his lap. “You happen to look pretty good in orange though.”
.
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fatuismooches · 10 months
Text
principiis amoris.
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synopsis: In other words, five times Dottore swore he hated you and the one time he realized it was the opposite.
includes: dottore w/ gn! reader
notes: I wanted to try my hand at these 5+1 fics, and Dottore seemed to be the best candidate. Behold, 6k+ words of fluff. Reader and Dottore are complete menaces (and not very good people) and you also throw a book at someone.
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I. blindness
Much to anyone’s surprise, Zandik was having what he would call a good day. Today was the last day of all of his especially boring and easy classes, the illegal parts he secretly ordered came in, and he would be able to stay in his dorm for a while before classes started again. A break from these all these so-called scholars would be much appreciated. He was growing rather tired of them and was greatly looking forward to the much-needed retreat of progressing his research. He could feel it already - the sweet sensation of tinkering with the new parts quickened his pace.
What he was not expecting was his door to be open, voices and rustling noises coming from inside. Immediately a frown appeared and his good feeling was lost. Quickly, he entered the room and saw an unknown figure donning the Akademiya’s robes, and an academic counselor he recognized standing in his room. Now he was glad he made sure to put his tools away. Ones that were totally not prohibited.
“What is the meaning of this?” He didn’t try to hide the loathing in his voice.
The counselor shifted in place, clearly not wanting to be here anymore due to his presence. You, on the other hand, didn’t seem to care. In fact, Zandik could see that you were smiling.
“Ah, hello Zandik. Good to see you are doing well,” she lied through her teeth. “This here is [Name], your-”
“Your new roommate!” you chimed in. The counselor shrunk in her place even more, probably regretting all her life choices now as Zandik’s laser gaze was on her now. 
“I thought I made myself clear when I informed you that I did not want anyone in my dorm?”
“Yes, well, as per the rules of the Akademiya, every scholar should try to have a roommate for the purpose of cooperation…” Her voice became progressively smaller as Zandik continued to burn his gaze onto her, “a-and collaboration. Regardless of your thoughts, [Name] has to try to dorm with someone, and that someone happens to be you.” You nodded your head in agreement as the counselor spoke.
“So please, um, try to get along!” She quickly excused herself and scurried out of the room, leaving the two of you alone. You smiled at him yet again, sticking your hand out for a handshake, to which he only spared a glance and turned away.
“Pleased to meet you! I’m excited to live with you!”
“We’ll see about that,” he scoffed. You’d be out of here in less than a week, just like the few other roommates he had. But to think he had to spend his break with a nuisance in his room now? That irritated him to no end. Though what confused him more was your sunny disposition. Quite literally everyone in the Akademiya knew him and acted the complete opposite.
“Hehe, sure. By the way, I call the top bunk bed!”
It was from that moment he knew.
Zandik hated you.
II. relentless
Zandik had been giving you the cold shoulder since the moment you stepped into his (now yours too) dorm. You knew this would be a tough journey, but damn. At least he was good eye candy and wasn’t loud. (If you excused his eerie laughter in the middle of the night.)
On this particular night, Zandik was at his makeshift workbench tinkering with Archon knows what, as usual. Unfortunately, even though you found it to be interesting, you were unfamiliar with all of that mechanical stuff. You always would look at him while he worked, and while he would sometimes snap at you to stop staring, he never actually did anything about it. Today was one of those nights.
“You’ve certainly been at that for a while,” you commented. Zandik showed no sign of reaction.
“You don’t want anything to eat? Or drink?” you continued.
“Don’t have time,” he responded with no hesitation, far too interested in his new play toys, and also wanting to shut down this conversation immediately. But, you didn’t think these were the ones he usually used. You think he kept the deadlier ones hidden away in case you reported him or something.
“To consume something?”
“To make something right now,” he corrected.
“Well, yeah, I know. That’s why I’m going to make it for you,” you clarified, kind of surprised (but also not) that you needed to say it directly. This managed to make your roommate pause.
“So you are offering to cook for me?” he clarified your statement yet again.
“Yes?” This time he freed his hand of items completely and looked you dead in the eye.
“Explain.”
“E-Explain? Well, I mean, we’re roommates and all, habiting the same space. It only makes sense that we do things we each other once in a while.”
“So you expect a transaction.”
“A transaction…? Huh? No! This isn’t some kind of business deal or whatever. No, I do not expect anything back from you. I am doing this for you because I want to. There’s nothing more to it.” There was no response from Zandik, and he was silent as if he was trying to process what you just said, which was rather cute.
“I do not understand.”
You mentally sighed. “That’s fine, for now. I’m gonna whip something up anyway.” Before he could protest further, you disappeared into the tiny kitchen the Akademiya’s dorms provided.
You had to think of a suitable snack. He probably wouldn’t eat it if it was too cumbersome and distracting from whatever he was doing. He needed some kind of finger food… and you had just the idea. You believed that when you were a struggling Akademiya student, it was only natural to have some good recipes up your sleeve.
Samosas. Delicious bite-sized pieces of goodness. Although they would take a bit to make, you didn’t think Zandik would care. He hardly realized the difference between minutes and hours when he was in this kind of scientific state. And you were glad you stocked up the pantry with your own products because you really had no idea how Zandik lived in these conditions.
Soon enough, you had made a portion for him (and secretly snuck a few for yourself) and you had also made a piping hot cup of coffee, a student’s best friend of course. You then plated it and brought it to your roommate, setting it down in front of him wordlessly, to which he seemed surprised.
Zandik did not realize you were even still doing that. He thought you were bluffing. But now that such aromatic food was right in front of him, his stomach came to life and he noticed the dryness of his throat. With squinted eyes, he tentatively picked up one of the samosas and inspected it. (Did he think you poisoned it or something?) But then he popped one into his mouth and began to chew experimentally. His face did not betray his emotions, but your questions were answered by his next actions.
“Hmm,” he said matter-of-factly, before nomming on another samosa. You peered at him from the top bunk bed as he polished off the bowl of samosas rather quickly. Now, he was waiting for the coffee to cool.
“Sooooo, how was my cooking?” you questioned, already internally knowing the answer even if he didn’t admit it.
“It was convenient,” he admitted. Most of the time, Zandik did not cook for himself, as he found the process a waste of time when he could be doing other things. 
“I’m glad. And the taste?”
“It was fine.” Actually, it was far more than fine. The constant consumption of the easiest food to make had dulled his taste buds and made him accustomed to bland food. Though your food was quite tasty, Zandik was not about to let you get a big head now.
“Just fine? Seemed like you scarfed them down pretty quickly,” you teased.
“The quicker I eat, the quicker I am able to devote my full attention to the research,” he corrected you. You pouted but still felt pleased.
“Then I’ll make something for you every day.”
He felt on guard again at your kindness. “Why?”
You raised an eyebrow at him. “Didn’t I already say? ‘Cause we’re roommates and all, and also soon-to-be friends. And friends usually help each other out, yeah? And also because I’m kind of worried how you eat the same thing over and over.” 
He immediately frowned at your proposal. “I am not your friend. And never will be.”
You shrugged your shoulders and moved to lie down instead, pulling the blankets over you. “Ehe, we’ll see. I have a way with words, you know!” You smiled and winked at him, to which you received a deadpan glare. “Good night, Zandik! Oh, and make sure to clean up afterward!”
“Hmph.”
Friend. He toyed with the word and idea in his head, mocking it internally. Friend… friend, as if that could ever be feasible. Of course not.
Zandik hated you.
III. possessiveness 
It had been a while since you moved in with Zandik, and he stopped treating you with disdain. Though, Zandik was Zandik, so you still got a tongue-lashing from time to time. (But you could never take him seriously anymore, which irritated him.)
Lately, though, he had begun to show you some of his research, and even begun to let you tinker with some of his stuff! Only while he was present of course, but you were elated. Though, he seemed to be enjoying this more than you somehow. You could ask one question and suddenly he’d be on a tangent. But you were just happy he was talking to you.
You had been upgraded from hated stranger to tolerable stranger to okay acquaintance in Zandik’s eyes. You had insisted on calling him your friend, to which he still did not understand, but for some reason he allowed it. Perhaps it was because it felt nice.
Actually, you were a helpful, okay acquaintance. You frequently looked over his notes for him, correcting spelling and grammar errors from when he scribbled so fast. Tidied up his bed and work space too. The best part was that you had begun to run errands for him so he didn’t need to leave the dorm himself. After these series of events, you had declared yourself his assistant without even asking him first, but he supposed that was okay. He valued usefulness. And maybe your company a bit, too. And although he enjoyed silence the most, maybe he liked how nice your voice was in the background.
Today was one of those days where he waited for you to get back from an errand. It was quick and easy, and the seller wasn’t too far away. Like always, he occupied himself with his work and awaited your return, which proved to be fruitful as usual. But after a while, something did not feel right.
Zandik could not put his finger on it. Why did he have this feeling in the back of his mind? He was quite irritated at this itch he could not reach. Perhaps you would have-
That’s right. You. You. You. Where were you? That’s when he realized that you were gone longer than you usually were. To think that his body and mind would get so accustomed to your presence. He wasn’t sure whether to feel disgusted or not by this feeling.
He wondered what was the holdup. But there was naught he could do except wait. And wait. And wait. Until the jiggle of the doorknob drew his attention and you stepped through the door with the items he requested. 
“Hey, Zandik,” you greeted, locking the door behind you and dropping the bag on the table. He didn’t respond, but you didn’t think that was anything strange since he never cared much for greetings. “Got your stuff,” you continued your normal routine, kicking off your shoes and shedding your sweater, expecting the silence to continue.
“What took you so long?” You almost did a double-take when he spoke.
“What?”
“What took you so long?” he repeated.
“Oh, on the way back, some students stopped me and asked if I could explain some stuff to them. I guess I did take a bit longer than usual. Why?” you questioned. Did he really notice the difference? It hadn’t even been that long, maybe ten to fifteen minutes extra that you took. And plus, it’s not like you two were doing anything together. Just sitting in silence with metal clanking as usual.
When you did not get any response, you raised your eyebrows and tip-toed your way over to him to get a glimpse of his expression. It was mostly empty if you ignored the eye twitching and the downward curve. You had to dig your fingernails into your palm to control the chuckles. 
“Could it be… did you miss little old me, Zandik?”
“Perish the thought,” Zandik immediately interrupted before you could even finish your sentence. “Your whereabouts are not my concern,” he vehemently denied.
“Mhm, alright then.”
“I simply do not see why you need to talk to those so-called scholars. They are not worth the time or energy to even look at.”
Ah, there it was. So he was jealous. You understood now.
“Well, I was just doing what a normal, nice person would do.”
“The fact that you are still living with me proves you’re not normal. As for the nice part, you don’t need to do that for anyone.”
“Oh really? So what should I do, turn a blind eye to everyone else and save the sweet words for you?” you joked.
“Yes. Were you not the one who declared yourself as my assistant? Assistants always follow their seniors,” he stated matter-of-factly.
You were completely surprised at his mini confession, that if you spoke carelessly, you knew you’d stutter. But you weren’t complaining. You ignored the heat on your face, and matched his words.
“Hmm… I would say in that case, you can’t speak to anyone either, but it’s not like you do that anyway,” you said simply, biting down on your lip to prevent laughing. Zandik immediately scowled at your statement.
“I don’t need, want, or care to speak to anyone. But since you clearly need to be around these low-tier scholars, you can get out this instant.” You couldn’t help but double over with giggles now at his defensiveness and landed on Zandik’s bed. He huffed. You loved when he acted like this.
“Ah, I’m so glad I asked to dorm with you,” you giggled with a dopey grin. Zandik paused his work, taking in what you just said.
“You… what?”
You turned to lay on your side and propped yourself up on your arm. “Hmm? Did I say something strange?” you questioned.
“You chose to live here? With me, of your own choice? I knew it was strange when the counselor chose me of all people. Surely there were others available?” Zandik was utterly baffled as he had now temporarily abandoned his tinkering to gauge your expression.
“Yes! Shall I recount the exact events for you?” Without waiting for an answer, you prattled on. “Okay so, I went to the counselor lady and she wanted me to dorm with this random guy, and I was like okay cool, but then I got this little sneak peek of the list she had and I saw your name in fancy handwriting. And then I was like, hey, that’s the smart cute morally dubious guy that I hear people talking about! So then I said, nah, give Zandik to me instead please- hey, why is your face kind of red?” 
You ended your little rambling and sat up straight, leaning into your roommate’s face. “Hey, are you embar-” Before you could finish your sentence, he quickly spun back around to face his desk, trying to block out your incessant giggling.
“Shut up,” he hissed in reply, quick to defend himself. “No one in this school would willingly live with me.” And how dare you call him that? That… c-word.
“Well,” you clutched your chest to prevent any more laughter, “That’s clearly not true anymore, because I’ve been here for quite a while! But wow, your face!” You toppled back onto his bed grinning. He swore you were brain-dead. 
Zandik hated you.
IV. like-mindedness
Zandik did not like being in public. That was something you came to realize and understand rather quickly. For the most part, you had no qualms with it. You were quite content with bantering with him in the privacy of the dorm or in the desert or forest looking for whatever specimens he wanted. There were no distractions, no other people to give you weird stares or looks.
It was another normal day for you, and you came to realize that you’d actually been living with Zandik for quite a while. You liked to think that you two were rather close now. The time had flown by quickly for you, but apparently very long for others. To say people were baffled was an understatement. 
People were shocked, fascinated, intrigued, fearful, any word you could think of, at how you managed to dorm with Zandik and still be alive, mentally and physically. Many people even applauded you for managing to live with Zandik for so long. You had people coming up to you asking for tips on how you confronted your fears so easily. The crazier ones even wanted to write a paper on your mental fortitude. (Thankfully your roommate hadn’t found out about that yet.)
Today, however, the two of you decided to stop by Puspa Café after class. It was a nice day to dine outside, and the coffee and food there was excellent. You had no complaints, especially since this was your first time doing this kind of thing with Zandik. It was going quite well, as the two of you read over your notes in silence until whispers began to penetrate the tranquility.
“Hey, look over there. Is that Zandik?”
“Oh wow, you’re right! This is my first time seeing him outside of class.”
“Really? This is my first time seeing him in general.”
“Well yeah, he only goes to class and then back to his dorm. Everyone knows he’s a freak.” Their blathering continued and you twitched your eye, unable to concentrate. You peaked at Zandik but he looked unbothered.
“We’re right in front of them and can still talk about you like that?” You were simultaneously shocked and impressed at their audacity and stupidity. Zandik simply shrugged his shoulders, his uncaring attitude shining through as he was practically immune to these kinds of scenarios now. You huffed and flipped a page in your book. Sometimes you wished you could borrow some of his ability to not care what people think.
But there was only so much you could take. And Archons above, these scholars and their incessant talking were annoying. You had no idea how Zandik could continue to read so intently with this racket. At least he was more pretty when he was quiet.
Slowly you stood up, and Zandik glanced at you, a bit confused but not too interested, still absorbed in his own book. His eyes returned to the text, but then he heard a loud thump from the side. Now more of his attention was on you, as he saw you now closed the thick book shut.
“[Name]?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow. You were now retrieving some Mora, probably for the bill, and laying it on the table. “Do you have business to attend to?”
“Business? You know what, yes, yes I do,” you chuckled a bit eerily. “But it’ll only take a couple of seconds.” With that, you picked up the textbook and lifted it up and down like a weight. Finally, you positioned yourself properly and raised your arm toward the direction of the student.
You threw the fucking textbook.
It was a sight that Zandik would never forget. A heavy book that would hurt anyone’s arm from lugging it around, flew through the air, and with uncanny precision, knocked the scholar right in the face.
It was dead silence for a few seconds.
And then chaos.
Screams erupted from the other students at the table at the sight of their fallen friend. A commotion was born as people scrambled to the boy. Zandik was having a bit of trouble comprehending what just happened. Yes, he just understood that you just threw a textbook at a guy, but he did not understand at the same time. Even he knew not to harm someone in public. (Private was a different case.) And you did it with no hesitation, no logical thought process of what would happen. It was an activity far from what most scholars did.
While he was in a little stupor, you quickly pushed your papers into your bag and slung it over your shoulder. “Hey! Teyvat to Zandik! Don’t just sit there! We have to leave the scene!” you scolded him, taking initiative and stuffing his work into his bag as well. He wasn’t the most pleased with how you treated his precious research material but that was only a fleeting thought compared to what just occurred. You threw his bag over your shoulder as well and cursed at how heavy his damn textbook was. But what he did not expect was what you did next.
Rolling your shoulders back to prepare yourself for the weight, you then grabbed his hand and started pulling him away. 
Zandik then had no words to describe his emotions. He could only focus on the prickles that arose from all over his body at such prolonged and close contact with you. He was used to your teasing - running your hands through his hair on occasion, or leaning in close to his ear to whisper something, but this simply broke his scale. He felt as though he was moving unconsciously, feet moving in sync with yours, and he had no idea how to feel or even understand this phenomenon. 
“Hey, I know you can walk faster than that!” Your voice snapped him out of his unfamiliar sensations, and that’s when he realized what was happening. You had actually managed to drag him so far along that you were both probably halfway through the city looking like complete, bumbling fools. And you were still holding his hand, and that’s when he realized again how lovely you looked in this moment. He quickly discarded those thoughts.
“Release me this instant, [Name],” he threatened, immediately putting his vexed look back up. He could feel your warmth penetrating his whole body just from your hand.
“Sure, sure~! Let’s turn into this alley to hide,” He could tell that was a complete lie because your laugh was so loud it probably rang out all the way to Port Ormos. Zandik scoffed and bit his lip to prevent a smile.
Soon enough, you both reached a secluded part of the city, away from all the hustle and bustle and caught your breath. You slid down a wall in relief and closed your eyes while Zandik had his eyes trained on you for what you just put him through.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” he raised an eyebrow at your crazy behavior. You peeked at him and put your hand on your chin, in a thinking position.
“Hmm… well, that was quite fun, was it not?!” you tried to keep a straight face but you could not help but laugh at your friend’s incredulous expression.
“You- we, we are going to get in trouble with the dean you know. And the counselors,” he said, trying to bite down the smile that kept rising when he remembered the expression on the assaulted student’s face.
“We’ll be fineeeee,” you shrugged your shoulders and stretched your letters. “Haven’t you gotten into more trouble with the head administration with your little controversial experiments? Besides, if we’re lucky, he’ll be too scared to report the incident,” you laughed, completely nonchalant about what you just did.
“Hmph. The blame is on you if anything happens,” he attempted to speak in an irritated voice, but he could not help but be amused. A bit elated, even. There were many people he wanted to see get chucked with a textbook. And do worse things too.
But a bit of the thrill came from how you did that with no hesitation. It was a… strange feeling to have someone do that for him. Actually, this whole relationship was strange. You were strange. Even he felt strange. He was honestly a straight-up asshole to you sometimes, like he was to everyone else. But that didn’t drive you off. You still did things for him. You still spoke to him. You didn’t want anything in return, not money, not knowledge, not relics, but perhaps what you did want was-
Zandik stopped that line of thoughts in its tracks, trying to ignore how his hand was all tingly from you holding it. Things were fine this way, he declared. He could not admit he was enamored with you. Nothing needed to change. He had to maintain his view of you, otherwise… 
“You know, I’m surprised I even got you to do that. Did you hit your head too?”
“Shut up.”
Zandik hated you.
(You two did get into trouble. The Akademiya assigned you an apology essay which Zandik refused to do so you had to write two separate essays for each of you. With some begging, he did your homework for you in return, and somehow managed to get the blood stain off of that textbook you had thrown. You didn’t question where he learned that.)
V. kindness
It had been years since that fateful day, the time when you first moved in with Zandik. The Akademiya was a long and arduous grind, but that was to be expected. Your friendship with Zandik was one you cherished more than most things.
To say the two of you were close was an understatement. You still remember the counselor’s expression when you told her how well the two of you were getting along, and that there was no need for you to ever switch roommates. You think she became afraid of you too after that.
Tonight was a relaxed night. Zandik and you were not doing any work, simply laying side by side on his bed. (Even though he always threw fierce words at you, you knew he liked your touch.)
In the beginning, you would never be able to tear him away from that desk, but with time comes new things. You were just happy he was getting more hours of sleep.
The two of you lied in the dark as usual, simply enjoying the cool Sumeru breeze and the muffled noises from the city. You learned to grow content with these simple moments. But tonight you felt like talking.
“Hey, Zandik?”
“Hm?”
“Remember when you met me?” You could feel his head shift to look at you, probably for asking such a dumb question.
“Yes, I do. Too well, actually.”
“What was your first impression of me?” you questioned, realizing you never actually asked him that.
“That you were quite annoying and a thorn in my side.”
Anyone else might have been hurt by these words, but you did not mind. He made it pretty obvious that was how he felt in the beginning anyway, so it was no surprise. “But what about now?”
“You’re fine.” Even in the dark, he could feel your pout and pleading eyes. “And your intelligence and helpfulness deserve to be praised, I suppose.” And then he could feel your smile grow as your face was partially on his shoulder. From then the conversation flowed through many things. That research paper you two were working on, some kind of experiment he wanted to do on you (he swore it was painless), about that one scholar who was always annoying during the lectures.
The more you spoke, the more you realized how much of your life centered around being with Zandik here. You didn’t know if you ever wanted to graduate. To ever be apart from him.
“You know, I’ve been thinking. How long do you think we’ll live here?”
“Hmm, it’s hard to say. The benefits the Akademiya provides are far too good to let go of now. Speaking of that, there’s somewhere I want to visit.” 
“Oh, you mean those hidden ruins you think are connected with Khaenri’ah?” How nice it would be if you could just drape your arm over his chest.
“Yes. Though I don’t know if the Akademiya will let me make another trip back to the desert as of right now,” he pondered.
“Are you referring to how you’ve been on the Matra’s watch list for years? So they started following you everywhere?” you giggled.
“Not just me. You too, [Name],” he rolled his eyes. “At least I never threw a book at someone in public.” You pouted and playfully punched his arm.
“C’mon, that was so long ago! You can stop bringing it up!” you whined. He would never let that go, huh? The conversation died down from there, but it was a comfortable silence, which you loved. After that little banter, your eyes began to droop and you yawned. Zandik glanced at you.
“Tired?” You nodded and blearily rubbed your eyes.
“Sleep, then,” he commanded, and you had no qualms with following that. Soon enough, Zandik was the only one left awake, staring out at the open window. He had found these little resting sessions of yours good for clearing his mind. He closed his eyes too. 
Two people, on the same tiny, college-sized bed, arms brushing each other and talking nonchalantly. Totally, two good friends.
Friends. Friends, friends, friends. Long ago, the word left a distasteful feeling in his mouth, and it still did, but not for the reason he originally felt. Now, what he desired was more complicated.
Zandik hated you.
VI. endless
Zandik knew he would be expelled from the Akademiya soon, for the crimes he committed. And yet, instead of preparing for any future plans, he found himself following the directions of a note you left on his workbench. Meet me at our usual spot, 8 PM.
He was a busy man, more so in soon-to-be exile. He didn’t have time for your frivolous games. But for some reason, he found himself heading over to the cliff anyway. It was dark outside, but the stars illuminated your figure, and that was when he noticed the basket next to you as well. You noticed him and sat up eagerly.
“Hey, you made it! I was worried you wouldn’t come, to be honest.”
“...What is this?”
“Eh? A picnic, of course. The weather is real perfect for one.”
He was so astonished that the laugh building in his throat could not come out immediately. Surely you were aware of what he had done? Practically everyone in the Akademiya knew. You couldn’t walk for five minutes without hearing rumors floating around. Or perhaps you were that oblivious?
“Oh really?” His familiar, eerie laugh that you loved finally rang out. “Did a Ruin Guard finally toss you around well enough? Only an idiot wouldn’t know what I’ve-”
“I mean, do killers not like picnics anymore?” You replied so nonchalantly, he was actually a bit shocked. 
“You’re… you’re frustrating,” he murmured.
The way you managed to make him so tongue-tied all the time made him itch to put you in your place, to snap back somehow, but he found himself unable to lately. Actually, he struggled to do that for a while now, and he despised how you made him feel like a bumbling fool.
“Heh, perhaps some of your unhingedness rubbed off on me,” you shrugged, patting down the spot next to you. “Look, I made samosas for you again.”
The blanket was soft and comfy, and though he didn’t care much for the flavors of food, he did enjoy your cooking. You continued to polish off your meal before you spoke again.
“So, I hear you’re going to be expelled soon.”
“Correct. Though I care little for this place, it’s a shame to lose a suitable environment for my research.”
“Have you decided where you’re going? I’m sure you’re not planning to stay exiled in the desert for the rest of your life,” you hummed. “Leaving this country, perhaps?”
“That seems to be the most logical action. There is nowhere in this nation that would fund my research.”
“I see. You’re going far away from here.” Zandik nodded in reply, but the more he thought about it, the more irritated he felt. Far away from here meant far away from you.
To think he felt no remorse for murder but he felt a tingle of emotion (sadness? regret? anger?) at no longer being with you. Whatever it was, it left a bitter taste in his mouth. He loathed to admit it, but he enjoyed your company. He enjoyed dragging you out of bed in the morning, and he enjoyed you dragging him to bed at night. He enjoyed your bantering, your inquisitive nature towards his work. He enjoyed being the only person you’d treat like this and having one person to himself. Zandik enjoyed you, thoroughly and fully.
“Well, keep me updated. I already got my bags packed and ready to go.” 
“What?” A quirk of yours, he realized, was being able to leave him surprised at the most unpredictable times. Although scholars must plan for every possibility, he found it difficult to prepare for yours.
“I’m coming with you, of course. You’re gonna need your number one assistant with you. Hey, why’d you stop eating? We still need to get through the Padisarah Pudding.”
“You? Accompany me?” All of a sudden, everything made perfect sense. Yes, of course! You were right, he thought, as a fit of laughter overcame him. It was a splendid idea, one that pleased him immensely. Having you with him would be a great asset for his research. No one suited the role better than you. And you, in general, were… nice. You didn’t grate on his nerves like everyone else.
“Ha! Good! Amazing, even! I shall be sure to tell you when we depart from this nation of fools.” You raised your eyebrows at his sudden enthusiasm, but witnessing Zandik’s bursts of inspiration was nothing new to you either. 
“Well, glad to see you’re so keen on it,” you chuckled. “But I have a request. Actually, it’s more like something I have to say to you before we embark on this. It’s crucial, really.”
“Oh? Do tell.” He wasn’t rich, but he had the ability to procure a wide variety of items. The Nation of Wisdom was more corrupt than one would think. But he did wonder what you would ever want. You didn’t chase after material goods like the majority of humans.
“To be frank, I like you,” you declared, looking right into his eyes. At that moment, it felt like the world had gone silent. The wind stopped blowing, the animals lied low, the grass no longer rustled. “I like you. I want to be more than just friends with you,” you stated bluntly. You felt that getting straight to the point was the best course of action with Zandik, since many things besides his research and manipulating people tended to go over his head.
“So, what do you say?”
There was no response. You attempted to build your case.
“By the way, did you think I’d go through all this trouble if I didn’t want to be with you? I didn’t dorm with you for no reason, you know.”
“...”
“For such a smart guy, you aren’t very good at this, are you? Well, I can’t be too mad. I’ve been dealing with the denseness for a few years now. You know, I’ve been making the first moves this whole time.”
“...” 
The lack of response was beginning to make you nervous. You preferred the maniacal laughter of rejection at this point. “H-hey, I’d like a reply, you know. You don’t need to accept-”
Zandik thought. And he found that the words he spoke next were genuine.
“I find you… agreeable as well.”
You couldn’t help but throw your head back and laugh, shoulders now relaxed. “Why, such an amazing compliment from the high and mighty Zandik has me even more lovestruck!” He wanted to be mad, he really did, but it was at this moment he understood what it meant to be mesmerized by another person. He had found himself mesmerized by ancient machines, ruins, texts, his research. But he truly found you beautiful, your giggles echoing through the night.
“I’m agreeable, yes?” You turned to face him, your body leaning in closer to his. “Am I agreeable enough to do… this?” You tentatively glided your fingers over his hand, gauging to see how far Zandik would let you go. He stiffened at the foreign contact, clearly unused to it, but let you continue.
“What about this?” You slid your hand up and down his arm, keeping your eyes on his face the whole time. He tried not to show any emotions, besides a half-hearted scowl, but you could still see the red tips of his ears. He was so cute.
You scooted closer to him and let your other hand rest on Zandik’s thigh. “I think I’m much more than agreeable in your books,” you teased, cupping his cheek. He scoffed in response but did nothing to refuse your advancement. You leaned in and connected your lips with your lover’s. It felt damn good. Zandik had no idea what he was doing, but it was endearing nonetheless. You kissed him again, and again, and he reciprocated, albeit a little awkwardly. Your heart soared as you pulled away, and placed a few final kisses on his cheeks.
“Now, how did that feel?” You already knew the answer to that, of course. You knew Zandik for a long time, and could tell when he was in a shitty mood, a bad mood, a grumpy one, an excited one, a happy one, and much more. This mood was one you haven’t seen until now, but it sure was a good one. Completely flustered was a great look on him.
“I… I cannot come to a definitive answer as of now. I would say that I need to carry out some more experiments to reach a conclusion.”
“Oh? Then I’m a willing participant for however long as you want,” you smiled, finding comfort in his soft, teal locks. 
And that’s when Zandik truly realized. You were more tolerable than the rest. You were bearable enough to want to keep you around forever. Smart enough for him to desire to hear your honeyed voice. Soft enough to want to feel your skin against his. Ah, he would never say it though, as he brushed his lips over yours once again.
Zandik loved you.
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