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#also sometimes i notice that she looks up at them to speak like that one scene
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Ok, I wanna post at least today, SO!
As a little bonus, imma post the pics found in the kid's introduction sheets and some more infos based on them!
Penny!
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🩷She doesn't like to be noticed or looked at. She does her best to avoid people's eyes on her. Also hates big crowds.
🩷She loves to go to the aquarium where live mermaids shows are held! She knows all the mermaids' names and they also recognize her when she arrives! She's a friend!
🩷She's not good at giving speeches, sometimes Simon has to step up and sum up stuff. She's grateful for that because she doesn't know how to end them!
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Simon!
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❤️Everyone at moonbase was sad when he announced he would step down from Soopreme Leader and become a normal KND operative. He did that after assigning Sector V to Penny and the others! He's regarded as a calm but fierce leader, always in first line with the others, always with a solution.
❤️He likes to chill. Even when he was Leader, he pretended everyone had a "nap time" from 2pm to 4pm. Not everyone joined this practice, but those who did, found they had much more energy for the rest of the day!
❤️He's one of the bestest at origami folding! He can create everything from paper, he created a robot and a vehicle! But his masterpiece is the giant fan he fights with. It's indestructible!
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Cinzia!
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💜She likes to build stuff! If you ask her to come up with new stuff, she will stare at you and your soul until you tell her to just build what you want.
💜She HATES bugs! No matter the size or how they move, they're ALL UGLY AND NEED TO DIE IN A FIRE! She tried to burn the whole Sector V treehouse because she kept finding bugs in her room. Now, who wants to explain her bugs live in trees...?
💜Even if the ideas are not hers, it doesn't mean she cann't make them a little bit... more interesting! And bigger! Bigger is better!
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Joey!
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🩵Best dodge ball player in the world. Remember that dodge ball temple? People are required to go on a pilgrimage to visit his house and pay him their homages. His parents are so happy he has so many friends!
🩵He loves dolls and loves to play with them. Tea time is his favorite! He not only collects Rainbow Monkeys, but also some human-like dolls and other animals, too! They're just too cute!
🩵He could draw from morning to evening. Sometimes he gets caught drawing during class, and his parents got called many times because of this. But he still gets good grades so... where's the problem?
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Robbie!
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🧡There's a reason she likes wearing orange: her personal hero is Numbuh 4 himself, and she wants to become his successor. Everyone says she's gonna get there and even SURPASS him! Wally likes her!
🧡She speaks English, Spanish and Italian. Her two moms are from Mexico and Italy, and moved together in the USA before she was born. She can swear perfectly in 3 languages. Italian is her favourite for that, tho.
🧡Never. Ever. EVER. Look at her. In her eyes. She doesn't like eye contact. Eye contact means you have a death wish. And she's gonna be your personal reaper.
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scaredshadowsswap · 2 days
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(I hope my English is as understandable as possible) I'm embarrassed to ask this but I was constantly asked how the SCP staff would react If they meet an androgynous person for the first time D:
Your english was great! I actually have a lot of ideas for this at the moment, but this is the first time I’ve gotten a request, so it might not come out right. I wrote this generally as the non-binary or genderfluid type of androgynous, but I think it applies just the same to people who just look androgynous :)
Clef:
Clef is probably pretty understanding, but that doesn’t make you exempt from one-liners that cross the line. I imagine Clef will make a lot of pop-culture references, so there’ll be no direct insults, but you may be called the names of famous androgynous people. Be prepared to answer to Annie Lennox or Boy George at least once. No matter your identity, he’ll call you the name of whoever your hair is closest to. Since you’re the first androgynous person Clef meets, you’ll be hearing it a lot, since he has no one else to tease. However, Clef’s insults are not reflective of their opinions, because Clef insults everyone. I think he’d almost like working with an androgynous person more? To Clef, your appearance would be a plus in certain field ops and Foundation situations, so Clef’d probably want you on their MTF.
If you work directly under Clef, he’d be fun and terrifying, just like normal. He’d definitely have an issue with anyone who made fun of your appearance and was serious about their comments, but he’d find a roundabout way of scarring them mentally for life :)
Kondraki:
If it was just seeing you in passing, Kondraki wouldn’t care. If it was working with you, I don’t even know if he’d notice. Kondraki is notoriously bad at names, which makes me think he’s probably also not great at faces. He seems like the type of guy who would take 4 months to notice your hair is firetruck red, so I wouldn’t worry about Kondraki at all. He only cares about if you are hardworking, if you’ll do his paperwork for him, and if you’ll change the coffee filter.
That being said, you’re the first androgynous person Kondraki is meeting. Since you look different from most of the people he works with, he’d probably love taking pictures of you because you’re a unique muse for photos.
Iceberg:
Iceberg will absolutely open the conversation with an insult about your appearance. How you respond will determine how he views you, almost like he was testing you. For best results, answer calmly, confidently, and do not reply with another insult, as he seems quite sensitive. His “Why do you look so weird?” would best be countered with a simple “I don’t know, but I like it!” or something along those lines. He will probably roll his eyes and not say anything else, but he will speak to you again in the future. However, I don’t think Iceberg would have an issue with you looking androgynous at all. I think he’s lacking a filter, and will say whatever pops to mind in a sort of mean way. He was simply acknowledging that you look different to what he is used to, but I think he’d like the style. If you end up becoming friends, he may begin to emulate aspects of your style. He would definitely gift you a scarf sometime to see you you’d style it so he could copy it for future reference.
Gears:
Gears is a short one because he wouldn’t care, or at least, he wouldn’t let anyone know. He is cold, reserved, and respectful, and treats you exactly the same as he treats most researchers. Even if you were working directly below him and he got closer to you, I don’t think he’d acknowledge your appearance except to tie it back to work. “Your hair is a mess, I suggest sleeping at your apartment tonight instead of on a couch” or something like that. Never a comment he wouldn’t make to someone else. However, I think he’d compliment you if you ever changed your hair/makeup/wardrobe, so he definitely notices and thinks positively of it.
Shaw:
Shaw would LOVE it. She’s been genderfluid for a very long time due to 963, so it would probably be a shock to them when they saw a person who looked gender-neutral and/or androgynous. But, it would be a pleasant surprise. He’d probably invite you to tea sometime or some sort of poker event, but you two are besties for the resties.
Shaw would definitely confide in you about their issues related to 963 very quickly, but they’re a decent judge of character and wouldn’t overwhelm you with their struggles. She will absolutely recruit you into her pranks, and sometimes play some on you.
Rights:
Rights would also love you, but it’s because she’d have so many ideas. She’s fashionable, and would have so much fun giving you ideas, whether it be for an everyday casual office outfit, or a formal suit or dress. If you worked directly with Rights, she’d be very low drama with you.
Glass:
Glass is a therapist, so he’ll probably be pretty happy to see that you are doing something that makes you comfortable. He might be able to give you advice on how to deal with some other staff who aren’t as accepting. Glass is a pretty short one because I can’t imagine him caring about your appearance past making sure that you felt comfortable in your skin.
Strelnikov:
Strelnikov…He’s from Russia. I think of Kondraki as traditional, but Kondraki is from Massachusetts, and Strelnikov is actually from Russia, and I think it would take him some time to get used to it. He calls all the male nurses “babies”, so I wouldn’t expect very much from this man.
If you’re hoping for any respect from him, you’ve already raised your standards too high. He may try to pull your records to find your sex at birth, he may snoop through your apartment, but he will not play fair or kindly. He might make comments about it, but at the very least, he won’t talk about you behind your back. Every comment he ever makes about you will be to your face. He might come around…three years later…
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hua-fei-hua · 2 years
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i love to spend an hour composing a message in chinese to the people in genshin impact who see the name 小白雪花 on the north america server and believe me to also be living in mainland china, explaining that although i am but a lowly american-born taiwanese and therefore almost functionally illiterate, i know enough to respond to a request for help and also be able to kill things in two hits
#it is now an hour past my bedtime but it'll be fiiiine#something i do notice when sitting down to compose chinese messages is that. there DOES SEEM to be some sort of improvement going on#like the brain will start pulling up phrases i didn't previously know how to use n i'll look em up to make sure they're right#i think it's a side effect of both playing gnshn cn dubbed and also the retranslation work i do on the game sometimes#when studying its lore/for nat when she is studying its lore#it never feels like anything sticks no matter how often i see the words tho. i'll be like 'oh i recognize that word.'#but i won't know how to say it or what it means so that's embarrassing#花話#anyway. at least if any of them ask why i chose the name 小白雪花 it's an easy explanation. '因為我最喜歡化學' lol#很喜歡花花;最喜歡化學;就感覺'雪花'就是很可愛的名字#i also suspect that my frequent avoidance of 'i' when speaking will make me sound extremely formal and/or polite#or maybe it will make me sound old. i don't know. i suspect that i speak in a way that's at least influenced by my mother#like i was composing the thing right. and i was like 'i already used this word. we need to find a synonym or else we'll die'#'we need it to be a fancy synonym. mom used a fancy synonym one time two years ago. let's find that one.'#funny enough this is also my thought process when writing fic in english half the time#idk if i mentioned this before. but my writing process and style feels very chinese to me#it is also important to me that i specify to these people that i am a ~taiwanese~#i have no idea how this makes them feel. but it is my way of signalling 'i do not read simplified well n hope you can read traditional'#and also for cultural heritage pride reasons too
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hyukalyptus · 7 months
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something nice — sub!fem!reader x dom!yeonjun x servicetop!kai
cw. reader is in an established (open) relationship with yeonjun, cucking? (kai eats reader's pussy while yj watches lol), cunnilingus ofc, nipple play, orgasm denial, edging, pet names (baby, jjun), begging, mention of "punishment" but nothing's ever done, yeonjun and kai talk about reader and what they're gonna do to her (without her understanding—everything is consensual in the beginning, but read note below), let me know if there's anything else. notes. IMPORTANT: ok so the tea with this one. the idea here is that the reader doesn't speak korean well and kai and yj are speaking korean to kinda talk about the reader and what they're gonna do to her so she doesn't understand. nothing aggressive, just describing what to do to her body so she's kinda surprised? SO!! anything in italics is in korean. thats important!! also idk how i feel about this???? smut under cut. wc. 1.5K
“Did she give you a reason or did she just break up with you?” You’re eavesdropping on Yeonjun and Kai—not that they’re being very secretive. They’re talking about a woman Kai’s been seeing while you play video games and attempt to translate in your head, but you're not being too successful, catching a few words here and there. 
“She did say one thing,” Kai says hesitantly. “But it’s kinda embarrassing.”
“What is it?”
“Well,” he starts, scooting closer to Yeonjun to awkwardly whisper something to him, twiddling his thumbs, running his fingers through his hair.
“Oh,” Yeonjun chuckles. “That’s…man, if you get really good at that, you could date anyone.”
“What are you talking about?” You finally pause your game, curiosity getting the best of you. Looking up, Kai looks like you caught him stealing cookies from a cookie jar while Yeonjun tries to hold back a chuckle. The three of you exchange looks until Yeonjun rolls his eyes to bluntly say—
“Eating women out.”
“Yeonjun—!” Kai says, shoving his arm.
“What?” He chuckles, returning the shove. “I eat her out all the time. She knows what it is. She knows you eat pussy too.”
“But that’s why that woman broke up with you?” You ask. “Because you…you're bad at eating pussy?” He blushes, averting his attention to the floor while he clasps his hands together, nodding shyly.
“Be honest, babe—am I good at eating you out?”
Looking between the two of them, you sit up and say, “Yeah, you’re probably the best I’ve had, but we’re super compatible, you know? We’re, like, super in love. That makes a big difference sometimes.”
Holding back a cocky smile, he asks, “But, objectively, I’m pretty good, right?” You shrug and nod—really, he probably is the best you’ve ever had, but that’s another story. 
“What makes it good?” Kai asks.
Humming, you think before saying, “First, he doesn’t go straight for it.” Turning red and ears getting warm, you gush and— “Oh god, Kai, don’t look at me when I tell you this.”
“Ah, this is ridiculous,” Yeonjun exasperates. “Do you just wanna practice on her?” You both whip your heads in his direction. “If you’re comfortable with it, of course,” he says to you. “Just thought it might be helpful.” 
Oh, how did you end up here? Laying in Yeonjun's bed, clenching your thighs together out of nervousness. “Remember, this is kinda specific to her. Pay attention to what whoever you’re with wants.” Kai nods, kneeling at the foot of the bed.
“She already said this—” Yeonjun says. “I don’t go straight for it. I kiss her first, then make my way down there.”
“You want him to kiss me?”
He shrugs and says, “If you’re alright with that.”
“If you are,” you say, looking Kai in the eyes. Both of them can’t help but notice the confidence you seem to be exuding, especially compared to Kai. Trembling fingers reaching for your cheek, he looks at you for permission one final time. Finally leaning in, his lips press to yours. 
You’d forgotten what it was like to have a first kiss with someone. Kai’s kisses are different from Yeonjun’s. Kai’s are much more cautious, more careful—not necessarily shy, but careful. It quickly turns hot and heavy. But you remember Yeonjun is watching you, suddenly overtaken with bashfulness, you break the kiss to glance over at him. 
Him and that sinister smile. 
Turning back to Kai, you crash into his lips again, humming into his mouth and smirking to rub how much you're enjoying this in Yeonjun's face.  
“Touch her,” Yeonjun says. “Kinda slowly, but then a little more intense.” Kai does as he’s told, his hand dragging up your hip to squeeze your tits. “Under her shirt.” 
His hand on the outside of your bra feels new and exciting. Reaching around your back to unhook it, you break the kiss to take your shirt off, pulling at the hem of his. 
“Slow down for a second,” Yeonjun chuckles and Kai listens, placing gentle kisses to your collarbone. “Lick her nipples.” Swirling his tongue around your nipple, you gasp, reaching for his hair. “Pay attention to which one she likes better.”
Kai tests both, slyly licking between the two. After testing the waters, he picks correctly. You chuckle thinking about Yeonjun sitting on a chair across the room, smirking in approval. You could look for yourself, but you can’t bring yourself to open your eyes. 
“Keep licking her until her hips roll.” This is a bit crazy, isn’t it? The guy you love telling another man how to fuck you the way you like. “Not yet.” Yeonjun switches to Korean, making you roll your eyes. If you didn’t have the energy to translate in your head earlier, you definitely can’t focus enough to translate now.
Lips trailing down your body, he tugs at your shorts, but keeps your cute pink panties on. Yeonjun talks him through every move—to lick his thumb and rub your nipple, to press his nose to the outside of your panties, to skate his lips across your inner thighs. 
Your hips roll uncontrollably, practically begging him to taste you. 
“Kai—” You whisper, your body instantly burning at the sound of the both of them chuckling. Pulling your panties down and off your legs, he throws them to Yeonjun who happily wads them up to sniff them and smell how delicious you are. 
Licking his thumb again, he keeps rubbing circles over your nipple as he finally licks your clit, your back arching as soon as he touches it. 
“Fuck—” You say breathlessly, looking down at him as his eyes sparkle up at you, your head dropping to your pillow with a thud. “Who the fuck is this bitch that says you’re bad at this?” He shakes his head, digging deeper into your pussy. 
Smiling cockily, you look over at Yeonjun, trying to control his breathing. He can’t help it—the two of you are just too hot together. He's never been able to enjoy this kind of view before. Seeing how every part of your body reacts to being touched—it's an incredible view.
“Please tell me he’s allowed to make me cum, baby,” You beg.
“Of course,” he chuckles smugly. “If he can.” Kai’s eating you out like he’s absolutely starving. And it’s true—he can’t help it. You taste too fucking good. 
Your eyes squeeze shut as you start squeaking, throwing your head back. 
“Okay, that sound means she’s gonna cum soon. Try to bring her as close to the edge as possible and then stop.” 
“Fuck, Kai,” you breathe. “Right there—yes.” You can’t believe how good he is at this, especially given the reason you're under his tongue right now. He’s supposed to be bad at this, right? 
You’re so fucking close and he can feel it. “Don’t stop—” he brings you right there. And then he does it. He stops. “Agh, fuck you,” you groan. Looking down at him, his smirking at you, eyes flashing between you and Yeonjun. 
He doesn’t waste too much time before getting back to your pussy, flicking his tongue over your clit. 
“Take it away from her for a bit. Lick her nipples again.” He does just that. You’re aching, bucking your hips over and over, desperately trying to relieve some kind of tension. But his tongue does feel amazing on your tits. Threading your fingers through his hair, you tug at it hard. He groans, his mouth dropping open like you just unlocked a new kink of his. 
Now he can’t take it anymore. Hips jutting forward, you feel the roughness of his sweatpants drag against your center, relieving some of that tension. You gasp, resorting to begging him to get back to licking you. 
“No, don’t,” Yeonjun says sternly. 
“But I want to,” Kai whines back, looking at your pussy hungrily, sticking the tip of his tongue out, giving his best begging eyes. But Yeonjun just shakes his head, satisfied with watching you uncontrollably rolling your hips up toward Kai’s mouth. Kai compromises, wrapping his hands around the backs of your thighs to yank you closer to him and presses his lips to the skin right around your clit, teasing you even more. 
“Babe—” you breathe, begging Yeonjun with your eyes to let him continue licking you. 
“I know, baby, I know…” he responds, his voice low and rough. He finally lets him lick you again. But he doesn’t show much mercy. He repeats the same tactic over and over—having him bring you right to the edge, even to the point of tears, then he stops right in his tracks.
"I'm gonna tell you to stop, but I want you to keep going, okay?" Kai nods, agreeing to his instructions. Bringing you to the edge again, you're begging for mercy, begging to cum. "Don't let her cum, Kai," he says, making tears form in your eyes. "Stop—"
And he does.
"I told you to let her cum that time."
"Sorry," he smiles up at him, licking his lips. "It's so fun to see her beg like that though." Tilting his head toward you, he says, "Look at her...she's got tears in her eyes. Isn't that the hottest fucking thing you've ever seen?"
"It's okay, baby," he says, fingers flowing through your hair while Kai's mouth finds your clit again. You're moaning, gasping for air, swearing, screaming, anything to try to find a release. "Not yet. Don't let her fucking cum, Kai." You don't think you can handle this much longer. Edging is nice, yes, but this? This is bordering torture.
"Please, please, please, Jjun..." you trail off. "Just please let me cum. I can't take it anymore."
"I know you can take it, baby. Fucking taking it so well..."
It's building again. That knot in your stomach that gets tighter and tighter with every second. That white hot fire in the pit of your stomach waiting to explode.
"Don't stop, Kai," you blurt. "I'm gonna cum—" Slamming your palm over your mouth—you shouldn't have said that. He's gonna make you regret saying that.
"Don't let her cum," he orders.
But his grip gets tighter. His tongue licks furiouser. His face digs deeper. You're so fucking close. Closer than you've ever been tonight.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, Kai..." your orgasms crashes over you like a bolt of lightning. "Yes, fuck yes, that feels so fucking good." You feel like you're having an out of body experience. It's one of the best fucking orgasms of your life. "Don't stop, right there." You chest heaves with heavy breaths.
Coming down from one of the best orgasms of your life, your vision clears up and all you keep thinking is how much Yeonjun's gonna make you pay for this. You came without his permission—what's he gonna do now? Everything flashes across your mind: not letting you cum for a week, spanking you until your ass had his hand print on it, tying you up for hours, you're not sure.
But he doesn't do any of that. His hand caresses your cheek as he smiles down at you, "Did that feel good, baby?"
Confused, you nod, "Mhmm." You're still nervous, looking around at everyone's reactions. Kai's smirking while he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "Bad at eating pussy my ass," you say, shoving his shoulder with your foot.
"Ah, I knew you a had a little crush on him...I've seen how you look at him." Your face turns beet red. He's noticed that? Oh god... "I just wanted to do something nice for my baby."
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thef1diary · 3 months
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Little Big Fan | M. Verstappen
Summary: A normal Tuesday becomes stressful when you lose your daughter in the grocery store, but then you find her with her favourite driver.
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Warnings: none just fluff + max being the cutest with children.
Pairing: max x singlemother!reader (platonic ish?)
wc: 1.6k
Series Masterlist
You were strolling through the aisles in the grocery store. One hand pulling the smaller basket behind you while your other hand was held by your daughter, Isabella.
It was a normal Tuesday for your little family of two, shopping with your six year old daughter. Unable to say no whenever she picks up something and looks at you with the cutest pout.
During the ten minutes of shopping, it has happened twice so far. The first time it was a box of two-bite brownies that she was currently obsessed with, and the second time was chocolate chip cookies.
You continued walking through the aisle, sneaking a glance at Isabella every time she pointed at something and said "mama, look"
Everything was going smoothly, until you had to drop Isabella's hand to open the door to the refrigerator to grab yogurt for your little one.
"Bella, which one do you want?" You picked out two flavours that she liked, wanting to let her choose one but as you looked to your side, she wasn't there.
"Isabella?" You did a full 360 turn, in case she was attempting to hide behind you as she tried once before, but she wasn't there. That's when the panic started setting in.
Dragging your basket behind, you walked towards the nearby aisles hoping to find her. "Shit, shit, shit," you muttered under your breath because you couldn't find your little girl anywhere.
You truly felt like the shittiest parent in the world. Losing your child in the grocery store was something you never thought would happen to you, especially as Isabella was always right by your side. Today, you were proven otherwise.
Close to breaking out into a full sprint, you continued looking for her, becoming less and less aware of the people around you. You accidentally bumped into a few people, but you couldn't be bothered to look at them, only muttering an apology as you passed.
You almost skipped your gaze over her, but did a double take when you spotted her familiar glittery clips in brown hair that was the same shade as yours.
"Isabella!" You almost yelled, but thankfully the aisle she was in was nearly empty. Only one other person was present, crouched close to Isabella, who was speaking animatedly with grand hand gestures.
You immediately crouched down next to her, calling her name again and hugging her tightly.
"Mama, look!" Isabella spoke when you pulled away, not understanding the depth of the situation as she pointed to the man she was speaking to.
That's when you looked at him, wondering why Isabella was speaking to him, especially as she wasn't too outgoing. Sure she'd sometimes speak to strangers, but she wasn't the type to run away from you to do so.
You stood up, holding your daughter up on your hip and watched as the man also stood up. "Isabella, angel, what happened?" You were confused as to why she was so excited.
"It's Max! The race car one," Isabella spoke excitedly, and that's when it clicked for you. Due to her father's interest in the sport, it passed on to Isabella and she would ramble on and on about it whenever she'd return from her dad's house.
"Oh," you turned to look at Max, a sheepish smile making its way to your face. "I'm so sorry, I didn't even notice her leave my side." Frankly, you weren't sure if you were supposed to apologize but you knew that he was quite famous and possibly didn't want to be bothered.
He shook his head, “no worries, I should apologize for causing this,” he gestured to your daughter’s huge smile, excitedly moving around in your grasp.
He introduced himself to you, only realizing after that Isabella had already told you his name. You chuckled and told him your name, hearing him say it back to you.
“Mama, I told him that daddy and I watch him race,” Isabella told you, and you indulged in the conversation, knowing how much she loved watching Max on tv.
“Did you tell him how you’re a biiig fan?” You watched her nod eagerly, holding her hands far apart and telling Max, “this big!”
He chuckled, not seeming to mind the little girl interrupting his shopping trip. In fact, he was quite surprised when she first approached him, all shy then the outburst came out of nowhere once she confirmed it was Max, the racing driver.
The main reason why Isabella spotted him so easily was because he was in something similar to the blue and red clothes that she sees him wearing on tv, wearing a cap as well.
“And what about you, not a fan?” Max asked you, taking you by surprise as he initiated another conversation. You shrugged, “I don’t really watch but Isabella does when she’s at her dad’s.”
It was a common interest that the father-daughter duo shared, possibly the only one so you didn’t want to take that away from them.
Max nodded, understanding your specific choice of words saying “her dad’s” rather than “my husband” or something similar.
Just for that, knowing that you were a single mother, his appreciation for you doubled. Mainly because he judged you unknowingly when he spoke to Isabella and noticed the lack of any responsible adult around, not knowing that the little girl ran away from her mother.
“Daddy promised to take me to the track one day,” Isabella’s voice snapped him out of his little bubble, one in which he was only looking at you. He had to remind himself that you were only here because your daughter was a fan, not for any other reason.
You sighed internally, not really wanting to tell Max, your daughter’s favourite driver, that your ex had promised Isabella well over a year ago. It was a promise left unfulfilled for a while, and you didn’t have the heart to tell her that it may never be fulfilled.
However, even without words, Max seemed to notice your expression as you didn’t hide it well enough. He was quick to make a decision, and crouched a little lower to be face to face with your daughter. “How about you and your mama come see me at the next race?”
Isabella instantly looked at you with the same pout that always worked on you, but this time you really had to think about it. Your gaze turned to Max, “oh please don’t do what I think you are suggesting.”
Max’s smile only grew, “I am suggesting that I can send you two paddock passes for the next race.”
Your daughter happily bounced in your grasp and she was wiggling around too much for you to hold her still. Placing her down and holding her hand, you thought about Max’s suggestion.
“Do you want to go, angel?” You asked Isabella, already knowing that she would say yes. “Please mama, can we go? please, please, please.”
You chuckled at her excitement, nodding at her and looked at Max, “looks like the decision is made.”
“Good, I will be looking forward to seeing you both,” Max stated, but remembering an important detail, you blushed in embarrassment. “One question,” you started, watching him nod to let you continue, “when is the race?”
“Next weekend. How about I send you tickets for Saturday and Sunday, would that be okay?”
To think he was a famous athlete, you couldn’t believe his kindness. Sure, not all athletes were rude, and you didn’t have any previous experience but it was still surprising.
“Yes, that should be okay. Thank you so much for doing this.” He just shrugged, “it’s not a problem at all.”
Your daughter was getting restless now, already in the grocery store for a while now plus this conversation was going on longer than she thought.
Isabella managed to release her hand from your grasp, but you instantly noticed. A sheepish smile grew on her face and Max could notice the familiarities between mother-daughter. “Stay right here, Bella,” you tried a stern voice, something you weren’t used to, so she knew you were serious.
“Okay mama,” she nodded and walked to the basket you abandoned once you first spotted Isabella.
Max said your name, bringing your attention back to him. “She’s cute, how old is she?” He asked, watching Isabella play with the items in the basket.
“She’s the cutest six year old.” You two watched her with interest, but while your gaze was still on your daughter, Max’s gaze shifted to you.
“Oh, I was meaning to ask, I need your contact information for the passes,” he scratched the back of his neck while a small smile made its way on your face.
“Are you asking me for my number?” You teased him, unsure where the playfulness in the conversation came from but neither of you were opposed to it.
“Yeah, I guess I am,” he pulled out his phone, unlocking it and giving it to you. Once you handed it back to him, he chuckled when he saw the contact name you saved yourself as. Isabella’s mama
“So I guess I’ll see you soon?” You asked, having spent more than enough time in a grocery store but somehow not wanting to say goodbye yet. “Yeah, I’ll send you the details in a bit. Maybe I might just turn you into a fan?”
“We’ll see, Max, but no promises.” You chuckled, calling Isabella so she could say goodbye to Max.
She surprised you both by clinging onto his legs, and he quickly crouched down to give her a proper hug. “Bye Maxy.”
“Bye Isabella, I’ll see you soon!”
As you grabbed her hand and began walking away, Isabella turned around to wave at Max once again, making him chuckle but easily retuning the wave.
He stood there until you and your daughter were both out of sight. Then, he groaned once he realized that he still had a few more items to grab from his list before he could leave.
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neuvistar · 11 months
Text
poly jingren x reader has been on my mind 4 so longgg.. ITS SO BADD. please give me more thirsts or thoughts abt poly!jingren x reader i’m lovin them rn | hint of fluff, mostly nsfw
short lil thirst ! jing yuan + blade x fem!reader (use of she/her pronouns), big dick jing yuan + blade foreal, reader implied 2 be shorter in height, degrading terms (whore, slut, etc), mentions of squirting, mating press + full nelson, SIZE KINK!! SIZE KINK!!, blade’s a lil mean but it’s ok bc it’s blade!, cum cum lots of cum (sounds funny but it’s okay </3) | overall suggestive content minors do not interact
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poly!jingren who would have different tolerance of your brattiness. jing yuan having the highest patience for u n blade having the least! you always run to jing yuan whenever blade talks abt punishing u n he thinks it’s soso cute :(( he’s always protecting you, nuzzling against his chest with your arms wrapped around his huge body, ur so cute! a darling you are..
jing yuan always tried dodging the idea of you wearing short skirts in public, why? you would make his dick hard, easy. but, you decided it was a good idea to wear the shortest skirt known 2 mankind one day, paying him a visit at his office. imagine this, jing yuan would be at his office doing work at his desk n all of the sudden you walk in looking all slutty, a short skirt that just barely covers your plushy thighs and ass, he would brush it off at first up until you purposely drop the pen on his desk bending down to pick it up. once you stood up, you would already be bent over his desk. that’s what you wanted, after all. “are you trying to tempt me, dove? because it sure is working.” jing yuan has zero patience whenever you’re acting like a whore in public, he would plant kisses all over your back and pound into you like there’s no tomorrow, his big dick stretching you out :(( choked moans would leave your throat, rambling on about how rough he was being with you, and that people might hear you and walk in, but he didn’t care, infact that was the last of his worries. he savoured the feeling of your tight walls pulsing around his cock, cumming inside and cumming on your panties too! i hope u’ll enjoy the stickiness between your thighs <3 (he’ll snitch to blade too abt it, what a bitch)
poly!jingren would be protective over you, even though they’re a pain to be with sometimes due to their constant arguments and disagreements, dating them does have its benefits. they would stand on either side of you, one on your left and one on your right. geez, you look so cute compared to them, it’s like you were walking around with two dogs on your leash, reading to pounce at anyone who dares speak ill of you or touches you. speaking of size.. i feel like they’d both have a size kink, you’re just so short compared to them they can’t help but fantasize about bending you over and fucking you in different positions, i feel like they both each have their favourites on that.
jing yuan loves putting you in a mating press, he likes it becuz it makes him cum quicker! not even a few thrusts and he’s already cumming inside, loving how you squirt all over his cock. he would press your knees against your chest, folding you in half almost. he would gently draw circles on your knee while the tip of his dick kisses your cervix, he’s so sweet to you though.. whispering praises in your ear. he would catch you off guard sometimes due to how sweet he was with you, not noticing how much he came, staring down at the mess he made in your cunt w cum seeping out </3
blade would absolutely love folding you in a full nelson, bro has sm strength it scares you sometimes. he would hook his arms under your knees, thrusting his hips into you. “sucha’ whore for my cock, aren’t you? you like it when i fuck you hard like this, don’t you?” mmm also also maybe if he’s feeling it, i bet bro would let jing yuan would join too, but he wouldn’t impale you with his dick like blade is, no.. he would rub his cock against your slit, placing kisses on your legs. honestly, jing yuan is your saviour atp. cuz everytime blade folds you in a full nelson, he’s always concerned that he’ll break you, so he tries telling him to ease it up a bit with you <3
poly!jingren would have god like stamina and strength, great speed n strength comes w great consequences! whether it is in a non sexual way or not, i feel like their stamina n strength would be useful in your relationship, its a lil cute since ur kinda shorter in height n they would always tower over u n help i get things from the high shelf or cabinet, it’s so cute! <33 but yet.. it’s a lil scary in bed cuz they can last so long w u and fuck you until you forget your own name, but it’ll be fine!! you can handle them!
poly!jingren both probably didn’t realize they had a size kink until they got intimate with you, it was probably the last of their worries up until one night. blade would probably notice a cute little bump on your stomach, noticing just how small you rlly are compared to them, jing yuan would too! honestly they both just love how their huge cocks slide in and out of your pussy, the bulge on your stomach going down, up, down up, over and over again! you’re just so.. cute they can’t help but stretch your little pussy out a bit.
“cmon sweetheart, you got this. you’re so cute, mhm.. you can handle more right?“
“sure she can, she’s strong girl. if shes— mmp.. squeezing around us like that, i’m sure she can handle more.”
“mm.. mhm. i can see that.” jing yuan leaned down, bringing his voice down to a whisper, “do you like it when we stretch you out with our cocks like this, baby?”
“fuck yeah she does, look at her. she’s creaming on our cocks already. s’ messy.”
poly!jingren who would both try their best to be gentle to you, sometimes it backfires but you don’t seem to mind! what’s very true about them is they both don’t want to hurt you in anyway, sure they fuck you hard enough and punish you but their intentions r never to hurt u, they would always ask you if you’re okay, even if they see the slightest hint of discomfort or pain in your face. especially jing yuan, he’s rlly rlly sweet n same goes to blade but he shows it in his own way. u know that blade doesn’t mean half of the things he says (he knows ur a slut for their cock tho but that’s besides the point) n sometimes he can get carried away but he would apologize with a simple “sorry.” and ask you if he was too rough on you, both r sweethearts yk
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hey there,, would you want to write something with boyfriend lando where you’re at the race track with his family and he just wants your attention? maybe he’s a bit clingy as well. i’d love you even more if you do haha xx
You're Here For ME - LN
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Having his girlfriend and his family get along is one of the best things ever. But sometimes, she's a little too eager to see his family and spend time with them over him.
Today just so happens to be one of those days.
He loves having his family attend races. The Spa race is always a bit hit or miss, always very dramatic. As Lando learned for himself in qualifying 2021.
"Cisca!" Y/n squeals dropping Lando's hand when they walk into the paddock and find that his family beat them there. "Oh my gosh, you look amazing, as always."
"You helped me choose this outfit a week ago." Cisca laughs while y/n grins, moving over to hug Adam too. "You are dressed the best."
"No. Stop it." Y/n laughs before feeling Lando relink their hands.
"How long have you guys been here? I didn't realise you'd be here before us." Lando smiles while hugging his parents with one arm in order to keep hold of y/n's hand.
"Dad wanted to avoid traffic." Cisca states shaking her head which earns a small laugh from the couple. "Can we eat now please?"
"Yes, I'm starving." Y/n gasps moving over to lead the way to the McLaren unit.
They all go and get food with y/n carrying the conversation among the family, and while Lando loves seeing his family practical fawn his girlfriend because they genuinely love her, he also feels like he's losing out on being the centre of her attention.
"We should leave you to it, Lando. Race day, you've got a lot to do." Adam eventually states looking at Lando who looks up from his plate.
"Yeah, I'll see you guys later."
The moment y/n goes to stand up along with his family only for Lando to clear his throat a little for her attention.
"Can you stay for a bit?" Lando asks making her frown a little in confusion but nod.
"I'll catch up with you guys."
"She won't." Lando corrects making her whip her head around now just completely lost on what's going on.
He waits till their gone before speaking again, but y/n beats him to it and she isn't impressed.
"What the hell was that about?" Y/n questions, brows furrowed as she crosses her arms looking at him.
"You've been ignoring me. I love that you and my family love each other so much, but you've hardly even looked at me." Lando huffs making y/n frown further, looking like she's about to snap but she deflates and softens.
"Baby, I just want your family to like me. The last thing I need is them holding something against me."
"As longs I'm happy, they're happy. Plus my parents love you more than they love me and my sisters talk to you daily while they talk to me weekly, and that's on a good week." Lando states before noticing y/n smiling at him just completely amused. "What?"
"Just...I love you...and I love your family. but I love that you're jealous because you weren't getting my attention. It's cute."
"It is not cute." Lando huffs feeling completely childish but she just laughs and moves towards him, sitting on his lap and kissing him to try and lift his mood.
Lando isn't a stranger to getting jealous in general, he can be quite possessive, which y/n always jokes is side effect of him being a scorpio. Something that he finds annoying but also plays along most of the time when it's not actually in the moment that he's jealous.
"You know, your family are great. but I'm not dating you to get to them. I'm dating you because I love you and if I could climb in that car with you just so we didn't have to spend a second apart. But...since I can't I like having your family here because they're part of you and it's the second best thing."
Lando doesn't cry, but that does nearly bring him to tears.
Y/n ends up sticking with Lando all until Andrea speaks up and says that Lando really needs to focus and politely asks if she'd go sit with his family.
"I love you." Lando murmurs before kissing her softly.
"I love you too." Y/n laughs holding his waist for a moment to just appreciate how amazing he looks all dress up for the race.
Lando has to get out to the pit lane for the national anthem while y/n moves to sit next to Cisca and Flo.
"So what was earlier about?" Flo asks, always wanting the gossip from y/n who is always happy to give it.
"He was just feeling a little left out from my attention. Hence why I'm only getting to sit down with you guys now." Y/n laughs before she pulls on the headphones.
-
The Spa race wasn't Lando's finest and while he got in the points a P7 just isn't good enough in his eyes. Especially with his mum being there and it being her home race.
The dinner with them afterwards is spent trying to avoid the topic of the race without being too obvious, so the few times it does come up. It's not too much from him. But eventually they leave and the family leave in a different car to them.
"You're too hard on yourself." Y/n sighs as the valet pulls up with Lando's car.
He chooses not to reply until they get in the car and he's pulling away from the restaurant.
"The whole family was there and...I wanted to make them proud."
"Lando...I have never seen a family that holds as much pride in someone as your family. Not one. Your family adore you and every time you get out on that track they're in awe. You don't get to see it, but I promise you...they're so proud of you. You could finish P20 every race and finish your career with a reputation as the world's worst F1 driver and they wouldn't waver with their pride in you."
He just goes quiet not saying anything and instead keeping his hand on her thigh, thumb rubbing her skin.
"I'm all yours for the night and however long before someone else comes to visit. What's the first thing you want to do?"
"Is that ever a question?"
"Well I don't think I need to use my imagination for that." Y/n snorts as his hand shifts further up her thigh.
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constantmourning · 8 months
Text
Silly
[Buggy x AFAB!Reader]
Summary: Not being allowed in Buggy's meetings was hard, especially when you craved his attention. So, you came up with a foolproof plan on how to get his attention back on you.
Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! Fingering, finger sucking, thigh riding, Buggy calling you baby, not beta read
Word Count: 1.6k
A/N: Buggy got me in a chokehold... He's plaguing my mind... I've only watched OPLA, and haven't finished it just yet, so I do apologize if this is OOC.... I just want him, carnally. My friend sent me two prompts so this was formed from that!
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“Please,” You ran towards one of Buggy’s crew members. “I need you to give this to Buggy.” You held an envelope.
“Um, he’s in a meeting…” She gave you a concerned look. “He said to not bother him-”
You pouted at her, “It’s so important! It’s for his eyes only! There is no way Buggy is going to let me in the meeting, considering what happened last time…” You rubbed the back of your neck. “But, really, this is important. He needs to see it.” The crew member narrowed her eyes, about to protest, “I won’t let him do anything to you! I promise! He’ll know what it means!”
She agreed. You thanked her. You hightailed it back to Buggy’s quarters, a smile pulling at your lips the entire time. You waited, and waited. And waited. Then you finally heard it.
Buggy’s wrath.
His scream rang through the ship and you grew giddy. You threw your clothes off and jumped into his bed, covering yourself up with just a sheet. You bit your lip in anticipation and waited for the door to open.
Buggy’s foot slammed into the door and it came swinging open. You smiled at him as you lay waiting. His for the taking. Buggy slammed his door.
“You sent me pictures of you naked while I was in a work meeting!”
His voice was full of anger. His fists were balled and you noticed crumpled papers in one of them. You stared at him with an innocent expression. You sat up and let the cover fall slightly, exposing your cleavage.
“They’re nice, aren’t they?” You cocked a brow at him. “The pictures.”
Buggy growled and your stomach flipped. He held up the photos and let out a guttural noise, and you were sure you could not get anymore wet. He took a step closer and you saw the two photos in his hands. One was your wanted poster, but instead of your face it was your naked body, head out of the shot. And the other was you lying on Buggy’s bed, also completely naked.
Buggy tensed, the papers crumpling in his hands. He looked at you with a darkness in his eyes you had not seen before, and it was extremely hot. “Alvida saw one.” His teeth were gritted.
“Oh!” That wasn’t supposed to happen… “What’d she think? Does she still think I’m ‘just a cutie’? Or is her opinion different now?”
“Why does her opinion matter?!” Buggy was on you in a matter of seconds, caging you in. 
You swallowed hard. "I mean, it doesn't I guess-" Buggy was inches from you, "I'm just being-"
"Silly?" Buggy asked, head cocking to the side. "You know, I really think you have forgotten what silly means…"
"No, not really," You speak without thinking, "how can I forget when you're so silly!" You smiled widely at him. Buggy did not move, he watched you unblinking.
Finally he threw himself off of you and stood up, grumbling, "You're just as bad as the lion…"
You pouted. Buggy was not looking at you though, he was looking at the crumpled pictures of your naked form. You leaned forward, pulling your knees up and pressing your chest to them. "I can make it up to you… after all, I am all yours." When Buggy turned to you, you continued, "I was being silly sending those, but fuck, Buggy! I'm so tired of feeling like an afterthought. You're with Alvida or scheming to get that map-" Buggy dropped the photos to his side and looked at you. "I just want attention sometimes." You placed your chin on the top of your knees and played with the cover.
The papers dropped from Buggy's grasp and he crawled back onto his bed. His gloved hand moved to your chin and he forced you to look up at him. "All you have to do is ask," his eyes stared into yours, his voice low and full of lust. "But I'm afraid I can't stand for the stunt you pulled today…"
"That's what you said last-" You stopped yourself. You did not want to ruin whatever it was Buggy was about to do.
"Hm?" Buggy was not going to let you be quiet. "When did I say that?" He questioned you. "When you decided to act out during the last meeting I let you in? When you were grinding against my thigh and you thought no one would notice?"
Your face was on fire. You nodded.
"And then-" Buggy was inches from you, "-you moaned so loud I had to kick you out?"
"I get it…" You looked away from him. You were just horny and needed an outlet and when Buggy wasn't giving you attention, what were you supposed to do? “My fingers just aren’t cutting it…”
“I can fix that,” Buggy smirked, eyes crinkled. “But, first-” He sat on the edge of the bed and motioned to his thigh. You cocked your head. “You’re going to get yourself off. On my thigh.”
You blinked. “No spanking?”
“‘Cause that worked so well last time, didn’t it.” Buggy rolled his eyes. “Come on, don’t be shy now.”
Your face, going down to your neck, was on fire. You scooted towards the other side of the bed and stood up, making your way towards Buggy. He smiled at you; a knowing, shit eating grin. Your heart jumped into your throat. You settled on Buggy’s clothed thigh and inhaled sharply. Your fingers moved towards your clit and Buggy was quick to grab your hand.
“No.” His voice was stern. “Use my thigh. Just my thigh.”
Your hands moved to his shoulders and you gave him a shocked expression. You swallowed hard and began to grind down. Your arms wrapped around Buggy’s neck and you looked down, noticing his pants becoming wet from your pussy. Buggy grabbed your chin and forced you to look up at him. He was smug to say the least.
Buggy moved one of his hands to your hip and helped you. His leg bounced slightly and you let out a whine. Your grinding continued, you only grew wetter and hornier as you did so. You wanted nothing but to be fucked and Buggy had you using his damned thigh.
“Tell me,” Buggy drawled out, “what do you want?”
“I need you.” You whined, still rocking and grinding. A heat pooling in your stomach. You pushed forward slightly and your clit rubbed against his pants. Your brain malfunctioned briefly. “I need you to touch me-”
“Just cum for me, baby,” Buggy whispered. “I’ll give you everything you want if you can cum for me.”
You let out a whimper and moved your hips faster. Your hips rolled and bucked into his thigh, each time you felt pressure on your clit you whined. Finally you could feel it, your orgasm was getting close.
“Buggy-” You moaned his name, eyes shutting tight, “I’m gonna-”
Buggy’s hands moved to your hips and he stopped you from moving. You froze. You let out a low whine and looked up at him. He cocked his head. “What?”
“Buggy!” You wanted to scream, “I was about to- I was-” You stuttered and stumbled on your words.
“I know, that’s what happens when you pull silly stunts.” Buggy smiled. “But, now… Do you want my fingers?”
You were going to go mad. You could not answer fast enough. “Please! Please, just touch me Buggy. I want to feel you.”
“Anything for you, baby.” Buggy brought his hand up to his mouth and bit his glove, pulling it off in one swift motion. He pulled his other glove off and placed his hands back on your hips. He flipped you easily onto the bed and was looming over you. He watched you for a moment while his hand slowly slid down your side. Goosebumps rose on your skin. Once he reached your pussy, you were sure you were going to combust.
One of his fingers slid into you and and your hips bucked upwards. His fingers reached spots yours could not. He knew what he was doing. Not like you didn’t. But Buggy’s fingers were a lot better than your own, by a long shot.
You wrapped your arms around him once more and pulled him closer to you, close enough for you to kiss his neck. He slid in another finger as you kissed his neck and he was easily making quick work of you. You were puddy in his hands, and he couldn’t enjoy it more. His fingers pumped in and out of you, before he found your clit and rubbed over it. Electricity jolted through you.
“Buggy- Mph!” You mewled for him, “I’m so close. Please-’ Please let me-”
You couldn’t finish your sentence. Buggy decided to be generous at that moment. All he said was “Okay,” and you were coming undone by his fingers alone. Buggy You bucked and cried and pulled Buggy as close to you as possible. Buggy laughed in your ear, and you arched back. Another cry escaping you Buggy started to slow down. He pulled his fingers from you and immediately, without seemingly thinking, popped his fingers in his mouth, sucking.
You watched him with wide eyes. His fingers popped out of his mouth and he smiled down at you. He lowered himself to your face. “You taste delightful dear… It’s a good thing we have all night.”
“You don’t have any other obligations?”
Buggy chuckled, “Not tonight. I’m all yours.” Buggy pushed himself up and over you. “And you are all mine.”
“All yours,” You agreed, nuzzling into him.
“Now, where did you get those pictures taken, hm?” Buggy questioned.
“That’s a secret.” You laughed. “A silly little secret.”
Buggy did not like that answer. He was going to get it out of you one way or another…
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suuuupernovaaa · 1 year
Text
nìfnu
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nìfnu [nɪ.ˈfnu] adv. silently
Anonymous Request: Can I have a story where it’s Ao’nung x Metkayina Reader who’s deaf and a sweetheart. When the Sullys arrive she doesn’t really interact with them so when they see Ao’nung being kind and protective towards her it they feel confused? Just pure fluff.
Lo'ak leans over and nudges his older sister, Kiri, forcefully on the arm.
"Ouch!" she yelps. "What, Lo'ak?"
He points, and she follows the line from his finger. It leads her eyes to Ao'nung, just a few paces down the beach from them, and he's with a Metkayina girl that Kiri doesn't recognize. She's tall, nearly as tall as Ao'nung, with her long hair pulled back into one large, thick braid. She wears a thin, shiny net over her shoulders, and Kiri notes how pretty it is. It glimmers in the sun. Kiri also notes how, even though Ao'nung and this girl are above walker, they are using the hand-speak to communicate.
"That girl. Neteyam tried to talk to her earlier, but she ignored him. And there she is, being so nice to Ao'nung. Who's an asshole."
Kiri elbows her sibling. "To you, he is. He looks like he's being perfectly friendly to that girl. And, I mean, she's very pretty."
"Why are they using the hand speak? They're not in the water."
Kiri shrugs. "How should I know? Stop elbowing me when you want something, Lo'ak. It hurts."
He groans and rolls his eyes, and turns his attention back to Ao'nung and the girl who rejected Neteyam.
--
"How are they adjusting?" I sign to Ao'nung, who shrugs and rolls his eyes. It's no secret that he resents having to teach the newcomers their ways, but I think it's nice. Ao'nung needs to humble himself sometimes, be more like his kind little sister.
"They are slow," Ao'nung signs in return. "I don't want to teach them. It's a waste of my time."
I reach out, pushing on his arm a little. "They seem sweet to me, especially the little one. Try to have patience with them. I would offer to help, but they don't know how to talk to me."
"Yet," he replies, and I smile.
"Yet."
--
Neteyam asks Tsireya about the girl, Y/N, the next day. He's noticed that she only uses hand-speak as well, and wonders.
"She can't hear," Tsireya says. "She's only spoken that way her whole life."
Neteyam could smack himself. He'd taken her silence as harsh rejection, when really, she just wasn't able to respond to him.
"Oh!" he exclaims. "She's, uh, really beautiful."
Tsireya laughs and smiles. "She is, but I wouldn't trouble yourself. Ao'nung has been in love with her for years." She throws a glance to her brother over her shoulder, but he's too busy making fun of Lo'ak to hear.
"Ao'nung?" Neteyam replies hardly, and Tsireya laughs even harder.
"I know. He has a soft spot for her, and her for him. If you want to compete, you'll have to learn hand-speak."
Neteyam shakes his head. She's beautiful, but not worth getting in a fight with the chief's son over. He'll just have to admire her from afar.
--
Though I can't speak, I am very proficient in reading lips. This helps me observe conversations from far away; as long as I have a clear view of someone's face, I can usually figure out what they're saying.
"Ao'nung has been in love with her for years."
That's what Tsireya said, and though she was smiling, it didn't seem as if she was joking. I dropped the plate of fruit I was carrying when she said it.
Is it true? Has Ao'nung been in love with me, and I haven't noticed?
Fruit is scattered all around my feet, and I bend over to begin gathering it again, every interaction I've had with Ao'nung recently playing over in my mind. If Tsireya is right, maybe I have been blind.
Ao'nung has always been kind, and patient and gentle with me. I knew he wasn't like that with many people, but I thought it was most likely out of pity for my condition - not out of love of affection.
A hand reaches out, picking up fruit and dropping it into my basket, and I look up to see Ao'nung himself.
Feeling flustered, I stand up, kicking the fruit basket once again, undoing all my work.
"Are you okay?" Ao'nung signs. I tuck my hair behind my ears, feeling a little speechless. "Y/N, what's wrong?"
"Tsireya," I sign, "she told the new boy, the oldest one, that you are in love with me. Is she just teasing him, because he thinks I'm pretty?"
"He said he thinks you're pretty?" Ao'nung signs back, quickly and furiously, glancing over his shoulder at where his sister still sits with the newcomers.
I shove his shoulder. "Yes! Answer my question."
"Well... come with me." Ao'nung reaches out, grabbing my hand and therefore silencing me, and pulls me away from the beach. We move through many huts, past the fires, and to the edge of the beach, where the sparse forest and rocks begin. Here, we are alone.
"Ao'nung!" I exclaim, breathless. "What's going on?"
He rubs his forehead. "I had a plan, to tell you. It wasn't going to be like this. I'm going to kill Tsireya."
I stand, silent, waiting for him to finish. My heart is beating out of my chest, and my palms are shaking; I'm not sure I could speak, even if I wanted to.
"For a long time, I have loved you, Y/N. I have tried to be more... understanding, and gentle, the way you deserve. But it's hard for me. I wanted to be better, before I told you. Before I asked you to be my mate."
Unable to control myself, I gasp, and bring my hands up to my mouth.
Me, the mate to the next Olo'eyktan? It's unimaginable.
"Your parents approve the match?" I ask.
Ao'nung smiles at me softly. "Of course. When I told them how much I love you, they couldn't object. They believe you will make a wonderful Tsahik, because you are so kind and understanding. My mother will teach you everything you need to know - if you want."
That thought alone is a little overwhelming, since Ronal can be so intimidating, but I also imagine she can be a good teacher.
And really, that doesn't matter. What matters is the way I feel when I'm with Ao'nung; special, adored, loved, doted upon. I feel safe with Ao'nung. I feel seen and most importantly, heard.
"I would be proud to be your mate, Ao'nung. So proud. Of course, I love you."
The smile that spreads across his face transforms Ao'nung from the sullen, anxious, grouchy man most have come to know him as. It turns him into the carefree, light and happy man he is when the two of us are together.
I am proud to make him smile like that. I promise myself then, to make him smile like that every day, for the rest of our lives.
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acourtofwhatthefuck · 6 months
Text
Practice On Me — Part Ten — Azriel x Reader
Summary: Poor Rhys gets cockblocked. Cassian and Azriel come to blows. Realisations dawn on Az that he doesn’t know what to do with. Kaeda’s not very good with rejection. Reader receives some unexpected support.
Word Count: 7.2k
Warnings: Depictions of violence and injury.
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The male’s hand has found pride of place in Rhysand’s lap.
Currently, it sits on his thigh, but the temptation to inch it closer — closer — to that sweet prize between his legs is a lusty, burgeoning one.
A shame, truly, that they’re currently fully clothed and in the middle of the busy mead hall.
Rhys chews and swallows a mouthful of his dinner, a smirk toying with his lips as he glances at his most recent sexual conquest.
There’s enough heat in that gaze to set the whole of Windhaven blazing.
Zakai is a very pretty male, indeed, with rich dark skin and thick, long eyelashes for days. His tempting appearance is most certainly exacerbating this current haze of lust that has taken over him as of late, driven by a preference for males. It changes every now and then. Sometimes he favours males, other times he favours females.
Whatever takes his fancy, there’s always somebody to warm his bed.
“I do believe,” the future High Lord purrs, “that you’re trying to distract me from my dinner.”
Zakai’s full lips kick up into a smirk. “Maybe I am.”
“How terrible.” He leans in closer. “Depriving me of a nutritional meal. What of my sustenance?”
Zakai also leans in. “I have something else you can wrap that pretty mouth around. I think you’ll find it to be more than adequate.” So boldly, as if no one else is around, he snaps out and drags Rhys’s bottom lip between his teeth.
Rhys makes a low noise, food all but forgotten—
But a kiss never comes to fruition as they’re shoved apart, and Cassian is slotting himself between them. “Your mother is here.” He steals Rhys’s plate. “Did you know?”
Rhys tamps down on the urge to slam his face into that food. “I would hope so, considering it was I who flew in with her.”
Cass hums. “We’ve been banished from the house for the time being.” He turns to Zakai. “Rhys will have to suck your dick elsewhere. May I suggest the pillory? He could even tie you up. Would be very kinky—”
“Banished?” Rhys quickly interrupts with a frown. “Why? Is my mother alright?”
“Roza’s fine. It’s Y/N. They’re having a serious talk.”
“About what?”
“Serious stuff, I guess.”
Cassian can be really, really frustrating sometimes.
Rhys shoots him a look that communicates precisely that. “What serious stuff? What did they say?”
“Roza called it girl talk.” Cass takes another huge bite, chews — and pauses in thought, “Do you think Y/N has been acting a little strange recently? Not her usual self.”
In all honesty, Rhys regrets not being around more, with all Y/N has had to contend with as of late. But even with him flitting between Windhaven and Velaris, he’s noticed a change.
A change amongst everyone, really. Something is…off.
“She has a lot going on. It’s hardly surprising.” He says, studying Cassian — the male is still in deep thought. “But I think there’s more than she’s letting on. I thought you would know more than I do, considering you’re around her more.”
Cassian says nothing. He chews and chews like he can no longer taste the food in his mouth, and he’s just giving it absolutely anything to do other than speak. Even Zakai shoots Rhys a look that says he’s not buying it.
“Shall I give you two some space to talk?” Rhys’s lover suggests.
Rhys dips his chin in gratitude. Makes sure that a little bit of heat still swims in his eyes — a suggestion of what’s to come, when he’s finished here. “I’ll come find you.” He promises.
Zakai winks. “I’ll be waiting by the pillory.” And with a shared laugh, he’s standing and strolling away.
Rhys turns back to Cass. He’s at least swallowed the mouthful of food, but there’s still a faraway look in his eyes. “What is it you’re thinking so hard about?”
Cassian just chews his bottom lip.
“Cass.” He gives a little kick to his leg. “If there’s something you know about Y/N—”
“I think I may have fucked up. Badly.” Finally, his friend turns to him. The severity on his face is…rare. Worrying. “Maybe I should have told you this before now, I don’t know. But…you see…Y/N and I…we—”
There’s no chance for him to complete the sentence.
Not as the mead hall’s huge wooden doors burst open, loudly and abruptly enough that conversation just ceases. Everyone turns. Azriel looms in the doorway.
He only becomes more of an intimidating figure as he gets older — anyone would be an idiot not to recognise that. But there’s something about him right now, like this, that has even the most steeled Illyrian warriors eyeing him cautiously.
Though his hair is wet-through from the snow, he’s not at all dressed for the cold weather. The casual, tight-fitting shirt and breeches will do very little to protect him from the brutal temperatures, and his tan skin is already pinkened where the icy air has bitten it.
But his eyes — his eyes are a blazing, churning inferno.
He looks huge in the doorway. Bigger than he ever has. His chest falls and rises heavily, and his fists clench at his sides. The firm set of his jaw is a warning. He hasn’t come here to play.
His boots thud harshly against the wooden floor as he storms in, and everyone watches, waits to see who the shadowsinger has a problem with, and what he’s going to do about it. He appears to have no weapons on him — a rare sight that only adds to the rugged, impulsive nature of how he looks right now. Like he forgot all else in his pursuit to come here.
What nobody is expecting is the way his dark, golden gaze zeroes in on Cassian. And the love that usually sits on Azriel’s face when looking at his brother has been replaced with something infinitely colder. Harsher. Angrier.
Dangerous.
Rhysand glances between them, recognising very quickly that something has occurred in his absence. He slowly rises from his seat.
“Az?” He says calmly. “You alright?”
No.
No, Azriel is not alright.
Everyone knows it. Cassian especially.
He’s staring back at his friend, and a thousand realisations pelt him that he genuinely did not consider before now. He’s got a terrible habit of acting first and thinking later. Of not looking at the bigger picture and considering every single person that might get hurt as a result of his actions. He doesn’t mean to be so thoughtless or impulsive. He’s gradually learning.
But as he drinks in the sight of Azriel, he somehow knows the source of his rage without it needing to be said. It never occurred to him before, but it does now.
Both he and Rhys have secretly speculated, over the years, whether something more might grow from the loving friendship between Azriel and Y/N. But time passed, and nothing came of it, and—and—
And with Kaeda on the scene, Cassian had assumed that no romance would be blossoming after all.
But that didn’t mean there weren’t still feelings there. Complicated feelings.
And in that moment, as Azriel stops at the table, the true weight of Cassian’s actions strikes him like a bolt of lightning.
He clears his throat, taking in the sight of him. Even his shadows are staying out of this. “Az—”
“Get up.” Azriel demands fiercely.
“I don’t know what you’ve been told—”
“I will not tell you twice, Cassian.” The shadowsinger’s eyes darken. “Get. The fuck. Up.”
Every single person is watching — waiting. Cassian doesn’t move.
And then he says quietly, “No.”
It’s not that he has any problem getting in a punch up with either of his brothers — Cauldron knows, it’s happened more times than any of them care to remember, where they’ve roughed each other up and resolved things quickly after. It’s just a method of Illyrian affection.
But this isn’t like that. This is hugely, frighteningly different.
This is serious.
Cassian is realising very quickly that he fucked up — not necessarily in the act, itself, of having sex with Y/N. They are both free, consenting adults, after all.
But if he’s guilty of anything, it’s of not thinking about who he might hurt with his decisions. And if he’d bothered to stop and think that night in the kitchen, he’d have known damn well that him having such relations with Y/N would be upsetting for Azriel. At the very least, Cass should have spoken to him first.
And that’s what he wants to do, now. Not fight. Not draw blood and leave bruises. Just…talk. Explain himself. Make it clear that he would never, ever intentionally hurt Az.
“I’m not fighting you.” He says, far quieter than his usual Cassian volume. “We should talk—”
Azriel’s lunging across the table and nipping that suggestion right in the bud. His fist goes flying so hard into Cassian’s jaw that his head snaps back. He barely has a chance to right himself before Az is throwing himself at him fully and knocking him to the floor.
“What the fuck is going on?” Rhys snaps, but neither of them seems to hear, and then the noise is picking up in the room and people are rising from their seats to get a closer look at the fight. Encouraging them with rowdy shouts.
This is no competitive brawl between friends. Through the gathering people, fists are swinging and blood is flying all over the place. Azriel is pummelling Cassian’s face over and over, and choked, angry words are leaving him as he does.
“You just can’t help yourself, can you?!” The shadowsinger seethes, throwing another punch. “You know—” Punch. “Know how I feel—” Punch. “And you still had to go and do it.”
Too much is happening at once for Rhys to put the pieces together. All he knows is that this is bad. All he can do is watch.
And Cassian is barely fighting back. He’s not interested in returning the punches. He just wants to put a stop to this.
“You knew. I know you knew.” Az then grabs him by the collar of his tunic, and he’s lifting him and slamming him back down against the floor, so hard that the whoosh of air that leaves Cassian can be heard across the hall. “Fuck. You. Cassian. Fuck you—”
“You—” Cass coughs blood at him. “You had Kaeda—”
“Piece of shit—”
“Perhaps…if you hadn’t been…so blinded by your fucking lust…forgot all about Y/N—”
Oh, that’s entirely the wrong thing to say.
A snarl is leaving Az, or maybe Cass, or perhaps both of them at the same time.
What happened leading up to this point was mere child’s play.
The two of them utterly lose it, and Cassian forgets all about talking and allows his temper to take over, and the real fight begins. Rhys is shoved back, stunned, as people try to push closer. All he can hear is the sound of his friends’ punches landing on each other. With more blood drawn, the noise becomes a sickly, wet one that tells him this is getting out of hand.
He barges his way through people, trying to get to the centre of the fray, but a noise is stopping him in his tracks.
“HEY!”
Somehow, his mother’s voice is loud enough, commanding enough, to reach every corner of the mead hall and wash over each and every occupant. Something about the raw order in her voice has everyone stopping. Quietening.
Even Cassian and Azriel cease their fighting. But they’re still exchanging harsh words that are compromised through split lips and mouthfuls of blood.
“Fucking vile—”
“I’m—sorry—Az—sorry—”
“That is enough.” Roza storms into the hall, a hand resting on her belly. She’s well and truly displaying the façade of the High Lord’s mate; someone not to be argued with. “Stand aside at once.”
If it weren’t for the serious nature of the situation, there might be something amusing about seeing honed Illyrian males slink back like threatened animals. But Rhys can only watch as they back away from Roza and lope back to their seats.
“Mother.” He turns to her, shaking his head in disbelief. “I have no idea what’s going on—”
Roza holds a hand up, cutting him off. She turns to Azriel and Cassian, who are now just staring at each other like sworn enemies.
“Off the fucking ground now.” She snaps.
Azriel’s eyes shutter. He’s breathing heavily. He hesitates, wants to go against the order.
But even through the red mist of anger, he respects Roza too much to do that.
Heaving a deep breath, he pushes off Cassian. Rises to his feet.
Roza jerks her chin at Cass. “Help him up.”
Azriel makes an incredulous sound. “He can get up himself—”
“Help him the fuck up, Azriel, before I bash your damn heads together.”
Az clenches his jaw. It might be childish that he refuses to look at Cassian as he juts a hand out, but he doesn’t fucking care. Nor does he care that he puts the bare minimum of strength into hauling him up off the floor.
As soon as Cass is on his feet, he’s shoving Azriel away from him.
“There are so many things I could say to you idiots right now.” Roza snaps. “But I’m way too pregnant for this shit, and I want to sit down.” She angles herself to Azriel. “You — go spend the night at the dormitories. Clean yourself up and calm down.” She turns back to Cassian, to Rhys. “The two of you are coming back to the cottage with me. I don’t give a shit about who said or did what. Don’t want to hear a peep out of any of you. Do I make myself clear?”
This is just a teensy bit humiliating — the three of them bowing their heads while they receive a scolding in front of their fellow Illyrians. But they’re not stupid enough to argue it.
They are stupid enough not to respond, though, and that only pisses Roza off more.
“Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear.” She thunders.
“Yes.” All three males intone.
“Good.” She steps back, nods at Azriel. “You first. Go. Dormitories. Now.”
Azriel sends one last, scathing glance at Cassian before stalking off. He limps out of the doors and into the snow — a fact that leaves Cassian feeling just a little smug.
“Get that damn look off your face, Cassian.” Roza narrows her eyes at him, and he quickly corrects himself. “And get moving. If you don’t get your asses back to the cottage this instant, I’m locking you out. Understood?”
Cassian says, “Yes, Roza.”
Rhys mumbles, “Didn’t even do anything.”
Roza looks at him like she wants to throttle him. And that’s enough for him to straighten himself out and offer his pregnant mother his arm. She takes it silently. Cassian moves to her other side.
“When we get back,” she says quietly, “the two of you better start explaining what the fuck has been going on in my absence.”
Neither males are exactly sure.
But they’re both wise enough not to say that.
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The steaming bath is supposed to soothe you, but it does not. Nothing can. Not even Rhys’s sweater that’s currently swallowing you up and encasing you in his scent.
And when you traipse down the worn wooden staircase at the first sound of voices, you feel like crying all over again. You hope for Azriel — hope he’s come back, willing to hear you out. But stepping into the living area, that tiny shred of hope evaporates.
Conversation ceases, and Rhys and Cassian are looking up at you from their respective spots on the couch. Roza is pottering around the kitchen.
At the first glimpse of Cass, your heart drops.
It’s not that you’re unused to seeing him roughed up, but this is…this is different. He’s clearly not riding on the wave of his normal post-brawl adrenaline. He looks downtrodden, hurt — both physically and emotionally.
Blood streaks from his face. He’s cut and bruised in numerous places. A gnarly black eye is beginning to show itself.
He finds interest in his hands. Can’t seem to bear looking at you.
“What—” Is all you’re able to gasp out, before you’re hurrying over, perching yourself on the coffee table before your two friends. You reach out. “Cass…what—”
“Take a wild guess.” He mutters, still not looking at you.
You angle yourself towards Rhys, looking for an answer. And the fact that you can’t read his expression…it threatens to cut you open.
��“I don’t have a clue what’s going on.” He says with a shrug. “Clearly, nobody tells me anything.”
“Azriel did this.” You say quietly. It’s not a question.
“Yes. He did. Turned up at the mead hall and absolutely lost it.” Rhysand’s violet eyes flick between you and Cass. “And I’m guessing it has something to do with the two of you. Care to share?”
Your eyes shutter, because having to speak it aloud again might finish you off. But you suppose the worst has already happened. Azriel knows. You might as well share the truth with Rhys, also, and show him what a wretch you are.
You open your mouth, and unplanned words leave you in a rasp, “I shouldn’t have done it.”
Rhys studies you. “Done what?”
“We slept together.” Cassian finally speaks, wiping a strip of blood from his chin. “Y/N and I.”
You can’t stop your eyes roving over to Roza in the kitchen. Even though she already knows, a bolt of shame hits you all over again that she has to be present for this. Not only does she have far more pressing matters to worry about, but you simply cannot bear it — of all people you’d hate to let down, it’s her.
And she may have her back to you as she busies herself in the kitchen, but you know damn well she’s listening to every word.
Rhysand purses his lips, and he sits back, folding his arms. “Why?
“It just happened.” Cass shrugs. “Night we went to Fenlaros. Y/N was upset after the fight broke out, and I was helping her, and it just…happened. I didn’t think there would be a problem, given that neither of us are tied to anyone, but apparently it is a problem. Honestly, Azriel has no damn right. He’s been busy with Kaeda for months—”
“Yeah, Cass, but we also know it’s not a straightforward situation.” Violet eyes dance over to you. Back to Cassian. “Surely you must have known that he—”
“No, I didn’t, because like I said,” Cassian snaps, “he has no fucking right. What reason does he have to be angry with either of us? We don’t owe him shit. Y/N is a grown female. If she wants to fuck any one of us, that’s entirely her choice. It isn’t for him to dictate—”
“I don’t disagree, but—”
“Not to mention the fact that he’s passing these judgements from his cushy little high horse that he’s been fucking Kaeda atop of. I should have fucking given him hell back there, but I didn’t—”
“There’s more to it than that.” You cut in, every word slicing at you. You lower your gaze as the two males turn to you. “There’s…there’s more to it than you realise.”
Cass eyes you. And usually, he would reassure you — tell you not to put the blame on yourself.
He doesn’t.
He knows, just from looking at you, that he can’t.
He grits out through his teeth, “What.”
“Az has a right to be angry.” Your hands shake as you drag them over your face. Your eyes are red raw and sore from all the crying you’ve already done. “Not at you, though, Cass. It’s me. I…I’ve been so stupid.”
“Stupid how?”
“Azriel and I were engaging in sexual stuff, too. Okay?” The admission comes barrelling out of you. “It wasn’t planned. He asked me for…for some help. With his confidence. One thing led to another, and he and I were doing certain things. We didn’t sleep together, but we did other stuff. And it was all intended to help him approach such things with more confidence, but then I realised I wanted more, but he was interested in Kaeda, and I was upset and jealous and I just…I’m sorry. To both of you. I’m so fucking sorry.”
Utter silence.
Your friends stare at you. Even Roza turns around.
You think you’d prefer to be shouted at rather than this. They’re looking at you like…like they don’t know what to do with you, say to you, anymore.
And then Cassian laughs. Not humorously, but a bitter, soured laugh. He shakes his head. “So, what you’re saying was that you used me to forget about your feelings for Az?”
“No.” You shake your head. “I…it wasn’t like that. Not intentionally. You and I both know that what happened between us was impulsive…and unplanned…and it didn’t mean anything. It just happened—”
“Because you were upset about what happened in Fenlaros! You instigated the kiss! Am I to believe it was a coincidence that you did so after Azriel had just put on some valiant display of starting a fight over Kaeda?”
“Cassian.” Rhys warns quietly. “Don’t shout at her.”
“I told you,” Your voice is beginning to break, tears heating your eyes again, “that I was feeling shit about myself—”
Another brusque laugh, void of humour, cuts you off. “And what of earlier tonight?” Cassian demands. “When Roza walked in on me kneeled between your damn thighs. What led to that?”
“That is enough.” Roza stalks over, folding her arms. “I’ve been staying out of this so you can have an adult conversation, but I will not tolerate that disrespect under my roof. I won’t have you talking to Y/N like that, Cassian. Or any female for that matter.”
Cassian slumps back slightly, muttering a half-hearted apology. To Roza, not you.
But he has a point, doesn’t he? Having laid it all out to you like this.
You slept together because you were hurting and wanting to chase away your feelings. And he may have instigated what happened earlier tonight, but you reciprocated — because you wanted to chase away your feelings.
You used him. And the second you truly realise that fact, you feel sick to your stomach.
Tears drop into your lap as your eyes shutter. Shame is ravaging your body like a sickness. You wish you were somewhere, anywhere, else.
Wish you were someone, anyone, else.
“I’m sorry.” You whisper, and the words alone choke you up even more. “I am so sorry, Cass. I don’t—I shouldn’t have—”
You can’t get out whatever it is you want to say. The emotion is simply too much. A pain that is both mental and physical. It’ll eat away at you until you’re skin and bones. A husk of yourself.
There’s movement, and then someone is perching beside you. Wrapping an arm around you and tugging you into their side.
“Y/N…” Rhysand murmurs, resting his chin on your head. “Azriel should never have come to you for practice to use on another female. Why would you agree to that?”
You know precisely why. But you will not say it aloud again. Choking out those words to Roza was enough. They’ll only hurt even more.
You just cling to Rhys, and you cry harder.
And after a moment, it’s Cassian who’s sitting forward and answering Rhys’s question for you.
“Because you love him. Don’t you?” He’s so quiet. Painfully quiet. “You love Azriel.”
Yes, you want to scream at him, I love Azriel, and I wish I didn’t, because even if Kaeda didn’t exist, I would be the last person in the entirety of Prythian that he’d ever look at. Me with my ruined wings and broken soul. What do I have to offer? What could I ever give him that would be worth sticking around for?
But all you can manage is a soft cry. Rhys holds you tighter as your shoulders shake.
Roza takes the seat that he vacated, next to Cass. Her hand strokes over her belly. “Mistakes have clearly been made.” She speaks. “But believe me when I say that these things are not worth ruining such good friendships over. Ever. The bond that the four of you have is so, so special. Your love and support for each other is beautiful. And so, you may be angry at each other for a while, yes — but it’ll be okay. What you have is far bigger than anger. It’s love.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.” You whisper. “I would never.”
A deep sigh leaves Cassian, and he’s leaning forward. “I know that. I’m sorry for how I spoke to you.”
He shouldn’t be. You deserve it. Deserve worse.
“I still don’t think Azriel was justified.” He then says. “He’s being fucking irrational—”
“Yeah, well, he just needs to calm down.” Roza cuts him off. “You all do.”
“And stop sleeping with each other.” Rhys adds. “Definitely don’t do that again.”
Cassian’s response is a mumble, “No danger of that.”
You can only manage to shake your head in response. You’re so very, very tired.
Roza seems to read that on your face. “I think we should all head to bed. Y/N, Rhys, you both go on up while I see to Cassian’s injuries.”
You don’t need telling twice. As Rhysand pulls you up, he damn near supports your whole body weight. It’s like you’re boneless, slumping against him. Exhaustion suddenly smothers you and threatens to drag you down to the floor.
But as Rhys drags you past the couch, a hand catches yours. Encloses around it.
Cassian stares up at you. Looks beaten down and tired and hurt. But he squeezes your hand and says softly, “Love you, sweetpea.”
You run the risk of breaking all over again just by opening your mouth, but you have to get the words out. You swallow down a lump and tamp down on a sob, and you just about manage to return, “Love you too, Cass.”
His answering smile is weak, but he kisses your hand and let’s go. And then Rhys is pulling you towards the stairs.
You don’t deserve a friend like Cassian — someone who can be utterly furious with you but will still break through that anger to tell you he loves you, because you need to hear it. He’s so golden. More valued than he will ever realise.
And Rhysand is, too, as he supports you on every step of the staircase. His arms are firm around you, strong. He’s not letting you fall, even as he stops outside of the bedroom that you always share with Az.
“Will you stay with me, Rhys?” You find your hands bunching the fabric of his shirt, clinging to him with shameful desperation. “Please? I don’t want to be alone.”
He studies you, and then he’s nodding resolutely. “Of course, I will.”
The smile you manage to give him is watery and unconvincing, but you force it, anyway. You turn, opening the door — until Rhys stops you. Your tired eyes glance over your shoulder in question.
And the mischief that’s on his face is so normal, so Rhys, that it actually makes you feel better. That look he gets when he’s about to say or do something that’ll earn him a slap up the side of his head. One half of his mouth tilts up, and his eyes are glimmering.
“Out with it.” You say blandly.
“Just don’t make a move on me, okay?” He grins. “Let’s not go for three out of three.”
You scowl, stalk into the bedroom, but in all honesty, you appreciate the humour. It’s far better than the hurt.
And Rhys knows that — which is precisely why he made the effort to crack a joke at all.
When you’re tucked up in bed beside him, his scent and body heat lulling you to sleep, you find his hand beneath the covers and give it a gentle squeeze.
And like always, he squeezes back.
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There’s a new crack in the ceiling.
There were six the last time Azriel counted. A seventh one now cuts a jagged line that zigzags directly over his bed.
This bed, in this room, in these dormitories.
This bed, that Y/N sucked his cock in. That he kissed Kaeda on. With the lumpy mattress and scratchy blankets.
Azriel fucking hates this bed.
He hasn’t slept a wink all night.
He knows that morning must have arrived, because people are walking the halls and readying themselves for training and talking too loudly. Az would usually have been up before all of them, already out there training in the harsh cold. But this morning, he doesn’t move an inch. It has nothing to do with the good few punches that Cassian managed to get in during their fight. If anything, Az relishes the discomfort.
Y/N and Cassian fucked. It’s all he can think about. Plays on a constant loop in his head. The truth is an oily one.
And with that truth comes further truths. Realisations.
The first — that after a night of lying awake and turning it over in his mind, he’s not sure he even has a right to be mad.
Y/N owes him nothing. Cassian owes him nothing. Their choice to lose themselves in each other’s bodies should make no difference to Azriel whatsoever. No promises have been made — aside of Y/N’s agreement to help him build his confidence. And that was a favour. Nothing more.
But those two words — nothing more — keep bringing Azriel to his second realisation. One he’s so fucking stupid for not realising until now, when it’s too late.
It was more — to him. Right from that very first kiss in the mead hall, when heat had surged his veins and he’d been left wanting more, more, more. It was that want, that carnal desire, that had had him coming straight back for further experiences with her. It was easy to say it was all about practice. Easy to pretend it wasn’t the terrifying thing it was. Easy to deny the truth.
Right from that very first kiss, he wanted Y/N.
Wanted to keep kissing her. To touch her. To have her touch him. He didn’t want to experience those things with anybody else, and he didn’t want her to want anybody else, selfish as that may be. That need had overtaken him after one fucking kiss, and he should have realised it there and then.
It was why he’d reacted to Jonan’s flirting the way he had. Why he’d lost his shit in Fenlaros, when Thedis had been ready to drag Y/N off to a shaded alcove and fuck her senseless.
It was why, no matter how damn hard he tried, he couldn’t generate that same desire with Kaeda. Kaeda was not Y/N.
And Y/N was everywhere he looked. In everything he felt. Her heart and her beauty and her laughter and her damn good soul. Her strength. Gods, that unwavering strength.
And that was why he’d reacted so damn irrationally — because he wanted Y/N, and it was his own fucking fault that she’d fallen into the arms of someone else.
He sits up in bed, dragging a hand through his hair. He doesn’t want to go to training today, doesn’t want to face anyone—
But a knock lands on the door, and he tamps down on the urge to tell whoever it is to fuck right off.
“Azriel?” Kaeda’s voice comes from the other side. “I know you’re in there.”
He heaves a deep, long sigh.
He really, really does not want to face Kaeda right now, of all people.
But she knocks again, and he finds himself kicking his sheets away in pure frustration and stalking towards the door. He almost yanks it off the hinges.
Kaeda takes in the sight of him, a pinched expression on her face. “You look like shit.”
Azriel really doesn’t have the patience for this right now. His voice is cold, flat, as he bites out, “Why are you in Windhaven.”
“I came looking for you to see if you’d given any thought to my offer, and I found out you’ve been brawling with Cassian.” She reaches out, brushing her fingers over his bruised cheek. “What happened?”
“It was nothing.”
“Clearly.” Sarcasm laces her tone. She rubs her arms. “Can I come in? It’s cold.”
The last thing he wants is anyone in his space. And he should stand his ground, tell her that. But he silently steps aside.
Kaeda breezes in, tucking her wings in tight. She turns to face Az and folds her arms over her chest. “Well?”
Azriel kicks the door shut. “Well, what?”
“What of my offer?”
Her offer is the furthest thing from his thoughts. How can he think about a life in Fenlaros when his life in Windhaven is such a colossal fuck up? Not to mention he would never make such decisions without consulting his friends — his family — first—
But things with his friends aren’t in such a good place right now.
“You dumped all of that on me not even twenty-four hours ago.” He points out. “I can’t just come up with an answer for you.”
“What we’re trying to do is important, Azriel—”
“I have other things going on right now. Alright?” He snaps. “Your father’s vision is not my priority.”
Kaeda stills, balling her fists. “What things? Something to do with why you were fighting with Cassian, I presume.”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Kaeda.” He pivots, turns his back to her. “I just…need some space.”
There’s a beat of silence, and Az thinks that perhaps she’ll actually listen and leave.
But then he feels movement behind him, and Kaeda’s front is pressing to his back. Her arms wrap around him. He tenses.
“I’m sorry for pushing you.” She presses a kiss to his shoulder. “I just want what’s best for you.”
Az’s eyes shutter. Her touch feels wrong. All wrong.”
“Azriel.” She whispers, and those hands travel lower, towards the waistband of the low-slung cotton trousers that hang from his hips. “I can make you feel better.”
The second those fingers begin to slide beneath the waistband, he’s launching himself out of her arms. Stumbling back against the wall.
“No.” He breathes. “I—can’t.”
Kaeda stares at him. Purses her lips. “Why?”
Because you are not Y/N. You’re not her. You’re not, and never have been, who I want.
“I just…need to be alone.” Is all he manages to get out. “You…you need to go.”
The expression on Kaeda’s face tells him just how rarely anyone asks her to leave. He feels rude, and brusque, and unkind.
He can’t bring himself to care.
“…Fine.” The tone of her voice suggests that it absolutely isn’t fine. She squares her shoulders, lifts her chin. “I’ll go.”
Az inclines his head. “Thank you.”
She strides towards the door, coldness rippling off her. And when she wraps her hand around the doorknob, she turns.
“When you’re ready to stop being such a fucking coward,” she levels him a look, “you know where you can find me.”
Azriel doesn’t bother replying.
He climbs back into bed. And he relishes in the sound of the door clicking shut.
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
“You’re sure you want to do this today?”
Outside the chipped wooden door of your father’s house a day later, you’re frozen on the spot. Your breath clouds in front of your face, and you wish you’d accepted the coat that Rhys had offered you before leaving.
It’s tempting to turn around and go back to the cottage. Warm yourself by the fire. Hopefully fall asleep and avoid the pain in your heart, at least for a little while.
But you know that now is the right time to do this. Your father will be hard at work in his forge, and you’re free to gather your belongings and turn your back on that hollow home for good. At least it’ll keep you occupied for a while.
So you turn to Roza, and you nod. “I’m sure.”
“I still don’t think you should be doing this alone.” She eyes you cautiously. “Why don’t I send Rhys to help?”
“I’m fine, Roz, honestly. I think…I think I’ll appreciate the space.”
The space to cry and cry without anyone smothering you. You appreciate the love and support over the last twenty-four hours, you do — but being under the same roof as Cass…not knowing what Azriel might be doing, thinking, feeling…it’s all a bit too much.
So, yes, you’ll appreciate the breathing space.
Roza seems to finally recognise that. She nods. “Alright. I’ll come back for you in an hour.”
You lean in and press a kiss to her cheek, and then you’re turning and ripping the bandaid off before you can talk yourself out of it.
The house is as dark and dingy as it always has been. It smells musty. It feels soulless.
You step in and shut the door behind you, and you’re suddenly faced with every bad memory that has ever played out there. The shadow of your child self skitters around on bare, dirty feet, scrambling to get the fire lit, the dinner cooked.
The walls are painted with the hateful, malicious words that your father has spat over the years. Some of them have been punched in his many fits of anger.
This place will always be suffocating and evil. It will always shrink you back down to that tiny, terrified child who just wanted love.
You wrap your arms around yourself and drag your feet through to your bedroom. It’s just as it was before you left. Never feeling personal nor lived in. Certainly never feeling safe.
But you try to block all of that out and focus on what you came here for. The silence is welcomed, despite every little creak and bang putting you on edge, filling you with dread that your father might have returned home early. If you had to face a confrontation with him right now, you wouldn’t have the strength to defend yourself. You’d roll over at the first blow of vitriol.
And so, when you hear the sure sound of the door rattling open, your heart plummets. You freeze, hands bunching the tunic you were folding. Clear, confident footsteps approach.
Azriel appears in the doorway, and you don’t know what to do.
Perhaps facing your father would be easier right now.
He stares at you, his expression guarded. Where he would usually allow you to read his emotions, he wears a cool, flat exterior that even your keen awareness of him cannot get past. It’s deliberate — an act of self-preservation.
It makes you want to cry, just realising that he feels the need to do that around you. He never has before.
“What are you doing here?” You rasp, clearing a lump from your throat. “I thought…I mean…I would have come to find you, but I thought you needed space.”
Az nods. “I do.” He says. “I’m not…not ready to talk about anything yet.”
“Then why—”
“I made you a promise a long time ago.” He steps closer, stares at you in a way that is…quiet. You notice the dark smudges that sit beneath his eyes as he continues, “I made you a promise that I would be there for you, no matter what. And I didn’t keep that promise on Solstice, but I’m keeping it now. Even if I’m not ready to confront things yet…I won’t let you face this alone.”
After twenty-four hours of tears, you were certain you’re all cried out.
But tears fill your eyes again, and you feel like the broken pieces of your heart are breaking even more.
Azriel knows, better than anybody, how difficult it is for you to come back to this house. To face so many of the demons that you fought against with him by your side. He knows that you may have told Roza that you were fine, that you could do it alone, but you’re not, and you can’t.
You never wanted to do this alone. You just didn’t want to do it with anyone but Azriel.
And despite being hurt, and angry, and confused…he’s here.
“How did you…” You clear your throat again. “How did you know?”
“Was flying above. Saw you with Roza.” He strides further into the room and goes straight to one of the drawers in your dresser. “Are you taking everything?”
You’re still a little stunned, but you manage a nod. Your everything is, in fact, not much at all.
Az begins to fold your clothes and sort them into piles. He’s completely silent. Doesn’t even look at you. But a shadow reaches out and tickles your arm.
There’s so much you want to say to him. You also just want to throw your arms around him. Apologise, and apologise, and apologise.
But you’ll always respect his boundaries. He isn’t ready. So you return to the task and work just as silently as he is.
It’s a little while later, when he’s moved on to your small gathering of keepsakes, that he speaks again.
“Do you want to take this?” He turns to you.
In his hand is the little wooden owl carving he made for your thirteenth birthday. The damned thing has seen you shed so many tears, stayed clutched in your palm through so many nightmares. Never will you ever part with it.
“Always.” You answer quietly. “I’ll always take it wherever I go.”
His gaze lingers on you for a moment, and then he nods. Tucks the trinket into the pocket of your satchel. You watch the entire thing with a gaping wound in your heart.
“Az?” You murmur, and he glances at you over your shoulder. “…Thank you…”
His eyes catch yours again, and then he’s dipping his chin. “I made you a promise.” He says again.
You don’t speak another word to each other after that.
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
As soon as you’re finished, Azriel is taking to the skies once more. He doesn’t bid you goodbye.
Roza appears almost immediately, and she takes in your scant belongings with a pitying look.
“Come, little dove.” She reaches for your bag. “Let’s get out of the cold.”
“Let me carry that, Roz.” You say. “You’re pregnant. And the cottage isn’t far—”
But your words cut off when, with a wave of her hand, she’s spiriting all of your belongings away, into thin air. You cock an eyebrow.
“We’re not going back to the cottage.” She says. “I’m taking you to Velaris.”
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az tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-agirlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd @coralseacourt @towhateverend87 @sspookz @bird-on-the-wire33 @morrie-rose @megwan @catscanteleport @sevikas-whore @thickthighs-sadeyes
1K notes · View notes
bluesidez · 26 days
Text
GymRat!Miguel Part 2
content warning: mentions of food because big boys gotta eat, there’s a ref photo for an outfit in here that is unfortunately NOT a plus-size girl 😞 (I couldn’t find a big girl wearing an outfit like that for the life of me, but let’s use our imagination), 18+ towards the end so MDNI!
word count: 1.7k (not very drabble-like, ik) kinda proofread
Prev | Next ✩°。 ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist
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GymRat!Miguel who wakes up when his 6 am alarm rings, eyes tired and bleary. His roommate is sound asleep, thank god, and Miguel is just staring at the ceiling for a good 10 minutes before he decides to move. He has an 8 am and he needs some type of breakfast before he heads to class.
GymRat!Miguel who uses the college cafeteria to his full advantage. He made sure that his dad’s money went to the highest meal plan. One free meal plan a day and a loaded campus card for everything else. He stacks his plate high with everything the cafeteria is offering today. Sausages, eggs, 2 bananas, a blueberry muffin, and a protein shake he brought from his room.
GymRat!Miguel who made friends with one of the cafeteria ladies, Ms. Beatrice, by the third week of school. She noticed how much he visited the cafeteria and always snuck him an extra treat from the kitchen when she saw him.
“I missed you last Tuesday!” she says, squeezing his shoulder when she walks up to his table. She slides a wrapped egg sandwich across the table. “I was saving some extra cookies for you, but you were nowhere to be found.”
Miguel thanks her, happy to have something light for later, “Ah, I was stuck in the library doing a group project. Sorry about that, Ms. Beatrice.”
“As long as you’re getting your education, I don’t mind,” she says, hands on her hips. “Don’t go out there skipping class now, ok?”
“You don’t have to worry about that,” Miguel says, waving her goodbye. His mom would kill him if that ever happened. Not that he would tell her, she just had a sixth sense for his “fuck-ups.”
GymRat!Miguel who makes it to his class fifteen minutes early to arrange his part of his desk to his liking. Sometimes he feels so embarrassed when he needs to grab something in the middle of class, his ears hyperfocusing on every little noise he makes in quiet, crowded areas. He always makes sure to get out his laptop, a pen, a pencil, a highlighter, a notebook, some white-out, and a water jug. He prefers to be over-prepared.
GymRat!Miguel who’s feeling anxious when the sorority girls pass by his table, giggling and twirling their hair. They attempt to make conversation with him, speaking ill of the professor. He just nods along for the sake of being a gentleman. He thought the professor’s Millennial attempts at Gen Z jokes were kind of funny, albeit very 2010. He didn’t have the heart to tell them he actually enjoyed the lectures.
GymRat!Miguel who’s never been more excited for a lecture to start in his life. He didn’t know many more “wow”’s snd “that’s crazy”’s he had left in him. The noise of the ice hitting their plastic coffee cups as they struggled to get every drop out was starting to grate against his ears. He missed you and your sticker-covered water bottle. He looked over at his jug and smiled when he saw the ‘Game Over’ sticker you gifted him before the last lab. You noticed his joystick keychain and felt that his water bottle was empty.
GymRat!Miguel who declines the girls’ offer to join them on a morning jog after. He liked to work out in solitude and morning jogs with them would mean conversation. He would also have to be extra conscious about what he wore. No older lady walking her dog needed to spot him jogging with shorts that were too short for his own good and a tank top cut so deep that it was like string on his chest.
GymRat!Miguel who decides to head to the library in between class to kill time. He figured he can see if there are any science fiction he can check out to read in his free time. As he walks there, he opens Instagram to scroll. No, he has not been checking the app since this morning to see if you let him in, he’s not a freak. He stops walking when he checks his notifs to see that you accepted his follow request. He wastes no time to click your page again and is bombarded with tons of photos.
GymRat!Miguel who has to close the app immediately when he sees your first photo. It's a picture of you outside of a restaurant in a knitted two-piece. The top is open just a bit to see your chest and the long skirt is low enough to see a part of your stomach peeking through. Your smile is radiant and the caption is something about congratulating someone. You look delectable and Miguel can’t afford to run back to his dorm to let his mind wander over it right now.
GymRat!Miguel who gets another notification as he steps into his dorm room after his last class of the day and sees that you’ve liked and commented on his most recent post. It’s a mirror picture of him flexing his arm after his last work out. His shorts are riding high on his thighs and the curve of his ass is very noticeable. Gabriel had blew up his phone with voice memos of him cackling after he posted it.
“Looking good!! 🫣 Get those gains Miguel! 💪🏾”
Miguel runs a victory lap in his dorm room, thankful that his roommate wouldn’t be back until that night. He’s jumping and punching the air excitedly as if he were a boxer. If he wasn’t fearful of busting his ass, he’d do a backflip. Take that, Gabri.
GymRat!Miguel who decides to go back to your account, running on the hype of that one compliment from you. He stares at that first photo again, still mesmerized as if he didn’t see it earlier. He gives a like and starts typing.
“Wow…”
No, that’s corny.
“Loving the blue…”
Is he a frat guy?
“You look stunning”
Was that too much? He decides to add on a heart eyes emoji, afraid he might be coming on too strong.
GymRat!Miguel who goes a little further down your page. There’s a photo of you in a crochet cover up, your swimsuit peaking through the material. He groans as he slides to the next picture and the top of your cover up is off and it’s just a view of your back with your bikini string wrapped around it. Your lower half is in the water and if he can imagine it just enough, he can feel himself right behind you, taking in the view of your ass against him.
He’s hard. Again.
He decides to just let everything hang while he has the dorm to himself. His boxers are to his ankles as he sits on the bed, back against the wall. He keeps staring at your swimsuit pictures. Your breasts pushed together while you lean over the boat. Your hips swaying in a clip of you dancing with your friends. Your stomach on display as you lay in the sand, ready for him to squeeze.
He grit his teeth as he played the clips over and over again, his hand moving fast to bring him his relief. He closed his eyes and imagined he was there, watching you swaying before him. He would join you, grab your hips and let you guide him in the dance. He felt faint as he let go, voice shouting and white splattered across his shirt and fist.
He breathes fast, trying to calm down. He decides to like the photo dump and comment some aimless beach emojis under the post. It was the least he could do after using it to get off. How embarrassing.
GymRat!Miguel who jumps when his phone dings again. He was prepping to go to the gym when your response comes flying to his phone. His heart picks up when he sees you replied to his comment.
“That is so sweet of you to say! 🥺 Thank you 🥰”
He doesn’t know if you took it as a friendly gesture or a sign that he wanted you. Either way, he’s over the moon. There’s a pep in his step as he blasts Super Shy in his ears on the way to the gym. He had a new motivation to push harder in his sets.
GymRat!Miguel who tacks on 10 extra pounds during his arm workout. The guys in the gym are eyeing him in wonder and horror as he uses the 70lb weights for tricep extensions. He thinks of seeing you in lab later that week and decides to do some hip thrusts.
He can never be over-prepared.
GymRat!Miguel who decides to take a picture at the end of his work out to post on his story. He’s sweating, hair dripping towards the ends, his chest glistening. The angle is awkward as he moves the camera below him and flexes an arm for the picture. The story was meant for one girl and one girl only, so he didn’t really care how silly it looked to others.
GymRat!Miguel who almost fist pumps on the walk home when you like his story and leave a reply. He checks the private messages, grin on his face before he even reads what you have to say.
“Looks like you had a nice workout. I might have to join you next time and get some tips 🤔”
Miguel swiped the app up and texted Gabriel:
“Don’t ever question my game again”
"? Wtf are you talking about"
Miguel opened up his messages with you again and replied to text him whenever and he’d be happy to help.
GymRat!Miguel who winds down for the night, scrolling on his phone before he closes his eyes. Of course you posted a story and of course he pressed it within record speed.
It was a photo of you laying down all bundled up with a cute ‘good night’ gif moving across the bottom. You had on a spaghetti strap tank top and if your blanket wasn’t in the way, he’s sure he would see more than that.
You looked soft, adorable, kissable.
He liked the story and responded back a “good night” and closed his phone. He wanted you to visit him in his dreams once more.
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dividers by: @gigittamic 🩵
a/n: tumblr mobile kept deleting full paragraphs of my draft. not happy about that because I kept losing my flow. 😒 it happened like THREE TIMES 😭
Thanks for reading! Like, comment, reblog, and tell me how you feel! 🩵
Wanna be added to the taglist for GymRat!Miguel? Comment and let me know. 🤗 (PLEASE HAVE YOUR AGE IN YOUR BIO. This series has been and will get even more NSFW!)
taglist: @ghost-lantern 🫶🏾🥺
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xothatnerdykid · 7 months
Text
what's love got to do with it?
The students and teachers alike at UA High can't help but notice the strange behavior of the typically stern and stoic teacher of Class 1-A. They come up with all sorts of theories but soon discover the even more surprising truth: Aizawa-sensei is simply falling in love. Fluffy Aizawa x fem!reader drabble. SFW. 2,828 words.
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The way everyone looks at him when he walks in, you’d think he’d grown a second head or something.
Aizawa glances up from his phone after reading a sweet little text from you, greeting him good morning and wishing him a good day at work, only to find every student's wide-eyed, unblinking attention focused solely on him.
One second, they were all happily chattering, and then, the next…
"Hmm? What?" He asks his class offhandedly, throwing his things on the table and taking his usual seat.
But instead of answering him, the whole room erupts into a whispered frenzy.
"Did you see that? Did he just...?"
"No way! Must have been a trick of the light or something."
"What the heck? I feel so unnerved. Llike we just spotted a UFO or there’s been a glitch in the matrix."
“You guys saw it too, right? Are we all just collectively hallucinating?”
"Oi!" He calls their attention. "Would anyone care to tell me what it is exactly that's gotten all of you so worked up this morning?"
Stunned silence falls over Class 1-A again, and Aizawa can’t help but cross his arms and sigh. “Iida? Yaoyorozu? What’s going on?”
He doesn’t miss the way the class president and vice-president exchange a hesitant look before Iida answers him. 
“Apologies, sensei!” He hastily gets up to bow. “I will personally make sure everyone quiets down.” He zooms around the room and gestures frantically at his noisy classmates to settle down.
Bemused by their commotion, Aizawa observes them all carefully. What could’ve caused such a stir? He wonders. And why are they all so reluctant to tell him? Did he have a piece of spinach in his teeth or something? A quick glance downwards tells him he didn’t forget to wear pants or shoes or anything, so what was it?
“If I may, sensei?” Yaoyorozu raises her hand and he nods at her. “I think everyone was just a little distracted by your change in demeanor today."
He furrows his eyebrows at the young girl. "What change?"
"Well, we’ve never seen you smile before. Or at least, not like that.”
He blinks in surprise. He’d been smiling when he walked into class this morning? "What about it?"
"Well, sir," Iida adds, taking his seat once everyone's finally settled down. "It's quite an uncommon sight. Naturally, they were taken aback."
“You usually only smile when you’re giving us a tough time in exams or training exercises, sensei.”
The corners of Aizawa’s mouth twitch upwards at that, which he quickly covers up with a small cough. “Well, enough of that. Let’s get on with today’s lesson, shall we?”
Everyone straightens up to listen as their homeroom teacher goes over a few important announcements. And although he isn’t smiling anymore, Class 1-A doesn't miss the way his usually sharp gaze has grown soft and almost...fond as he speaks to them.
As soon as the homeroom bell rings, Aizawa dismisses them with an absent-minded wave of his hand and takes out his phone to text you: Do I really never smile?
You smile when you’re rounding up bad guys sometimes. You reply almost right away. Or when you see a cat.
He chuckles. Apparently I also do it when I’m torturing my students. Then…Or when I’m texting you.
You send back a little cat emoji, and the grin you get after reading that doesn't leave your face for the rest of the day.
_________________________________________
“Shouta! Helloooo? I said Earth to Shouta?” Kayama waves her hand in Aizawa’s face.
It seems to snap him out of whatever trance he’s in. “Sorry, what?” He blinks up at her.
She gives Yamada a look. “What’s with him today?”
“Dunno,” he shrugs, then turns to his friend. “Hey buddy, didn’t get any sleep again last night or something?”
You could say that, Aizawa thinks to himself with a smirk, then hastily scolds his features into their usually stoic expression. “No. Why?”
Kayama raises an eyebrow at him. “You've just been acting a little...off. Distracted, maybe?”
"Nothing to worry about," Aizawa reassures them, dismissing their concerns with a wave of his hand. He goes back to observing his students closely in the hopes of them moving past the subject, but Kayama and Yamada aren’t convinced. Anyone looking at him could tell something was different today.
“Sensei?” Kirishima hesitantly calls out to him. “I’m having a little trouble with my balance. Could you show me that move again?”
Aizawa nods, and everyone’s jaw just about drops to the floor when he demonstrates the proper stance with uncharacteristic patience. 
"Remember to be mindful of where you shift your weight," He guides Kirishima through the motions with a supportive tone, a stark departure from his normally gruff and no-nonsense approach. "And keep your focus. You'll get it."
Kirishima does as he’s told and looks to his teacher for feedback.
"No, adjust your stance a bit like this. Yes, that's it. Great improvement," Aizawa says, offering a rare compliment. 
Flabbergasted, the red-haired boy manages a stuttering, "Th-Thank you, sensei," before Aizawa moves on to help the next student. 
Observing everything from afar, Kayama leans over to Yamada and whispers, “He didn’t get a concussion on that last mission, did he? I've never seen him like this."
“Check what was in his coffee a while ago. And if he still has more — oof, it was just a joke!”
_________________________________________
“Okay, enough is enough!” Mina bursts into the room, dramatically crying. “I have to know!”
“Know what?” Kirishima asks as the others start to gather around her.
“What’s going on with Aizawa sensei? I saw him on the way here — he’s wearing a buttoned up shirt.”
There’s a collective gasp.
“Are you sure?” Momo asks.
Mina nods frantically. “And it was freshly pressed, too!”
Another round of gasps.
“And his hair was tied up!” The pink girl all but weeps, throwing herself onto the nearest desk.
“What do you think is going on with him?” Deku rubs his chin thoughtfully.
“He’s been acting so weird lately!” Uraraka whines.
As if on cue, Aizawa walks in. “Good morning, class,” he greets them without his usual gruffness.
Everyone hurries back to their seats, but Mina leans over to grab Kaminari’s sleeve, screaming under her breath, “He said good morning!”
“Look at his eyes!” He points frantically. “No puffy, dark circles or redness at all! He actually looks well-rested for once!”
“That’s where I draw the line!” Kirishima almost slams his fist on his desk. “We have to get to the bottom of this.”
Sero joins them, “Do you think Mic sensei and Midnight sensei know anything?”
Kaminari shrugs, “It’s worth asking.”
“Maybe Aizawa sensei has a secret twin and he’s pulling a prank on us?” Deku contemplates.
Uraraka shakes her head, “Sensei? Pulling a prank? I doubt it. What if there’s a new teacher at UA with a shape-shifting quirk?”
“Or Shinsou brainwashed him into being in a good mood?” Jirou chimes in.
As they huddle and murmur, Todoroki and Tokoyami shoot them curious glances, and Iida has to shush them discreetly. 
They snap back to attention every time Aizawa faces them, pretending to listen to the lesson. But as soon as their sensei turns away again, the room buzzes with whispered speculation. 
And though he acts none the wiser, seemingly engrossed in the topic they're supposed to be discussing, Aizawa can't help his amusement listening to their outlandish theories. A small, smug part of him relishes stoking the fires of their confusion. 
He knew he'd have some explaining to do, but for now, he’s more than happy to just let  them wonder.
_________________________________________
“Oh, look who finally decided to show up!” is the first thing Mic says when he spots him. The colorful cocktail in his hand is practically empty, but he happily sips the fun loopy straw for whatever dredges he can anyway.
“Are you going to make me regret it?” Aizawa grumbles, taking his seat next to his friends.
But Mic and Midnight just snicker, unfazed. They’ve had years to get used to his grumpiness after all (and a few drinks to put them in a better mood). 
"We have to admit, Aizawa," Midnight smirks up at him. "We had an ulterior motive for asking you to come hang out tonight."
"Don't you always?" He deadpans, lazily chewing at the gyoza they ordered without him. Although he doesn’t show it, he’s pleased to see there’s already a whiskey neat waiting on the table for him. 
Midnight rolls her eyes as she slides it over to him, "Yeah, but aside from just getting you to lighten up as usual."
"And getting you to sing karaoke with us, which I still can't believe—"
"You promised me we'd never talk about it again,” Aizawa groans as he rubs his hand over his face. “And that you'd never let me get that drunk again.”
"Awww, come on, buddy," Yamada slings his arm around him. "What's the point of having a good story you can't tell?"
"Fine, but I'll deny it, so no one will believe you anyway."
"I don’t know,” Midnight sing-songs, swirling her margarita in its glass. “With the way you’ve been acting lately, they just might.”
He frowns at her. “Meaning?”
Mic grins, leaning forward with an impish glint in his eye, "Meaning we heard you've been keeping secrets from us, Aizawa."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh really? Then would you care to tell us why you’ve been smiling so much lately?”
“Or who you’ve been trying to look nice for?”
Realizing they weren’t going to let this go easily, Aizawa sighs and takes a deep sip of his whiskey, the familiar warmth sliding down his throat. He's not one to discuss his personal life openly, even with his close friends, but there's something about their teasing that doesn't quite irk him tonight.
Aizawa tilts his head slightly, thoughtfully. "I'm just...happy, I suppose."
“But it’s more than that, isn’t it?”
“Come on, buddy, you can tell us!” Mic nudges him playfully. 
“We want to know what’s got our favorite grump acting like a—" Midnight’s hands quickly fly up to cover her gasp. 
“Like a what?” Mic gives her a puzzled look, but Aizawa’s shoulders tense up at the glint in her eyes. That look usually meant very bad things for him. 
“Like a lovesick puppy!” She grabs Mic’s arm, excitedly slapping it before shaking Aizawa’s shoulders and squealing into his ear. “That’s it, isn’t it? You’re in love!”
Aizawa chokes on his drink, and Mic pats him on the back to ease his coughing fit.
"Real smooth, Kayama,” he teases her.
"Sorry, but I couldn't resist," Midnight pouts, the twinkle of amusement still shining bright in her eyes.
Aizawa wipes his mouth and sets his glass down with a sigh. “Well, if you must know…There is…someone I’ve been spending time with.”
"Someone!" His friends chorus, delighted.
Mic nudges him gently. “Well? Don’t leave us in suspense!”
"Who is it? Do we know them?" Midnight leans forward, giggling.
Aizawa looks down at his glass for a moment, contemplating how much he should reveal. Although he feels a little overwhelmed by their excitement and their scrutiny, he also secretly relishes the joy of sharing this part of his life with his closest friends. 
It feels good, he thinks, to be around them and to know that they care so much about him. And though he’s never been one to discuss his personal affairs, he trusts these two enough to share the parts of himself he usually kept guarded. 
Seeing the expectant looks on their faces, eagerly awaiting his answer, Aizawa's ears turn the faintest shade of red. 
“Do you want to meet her?” 
_________________________________________
"Had a fun night?" You greet your boyfriend with a hug when he shows up at your door well past a reasonable hour.
You don't miss the small smile on his face when he takes off his shoes. "Actually, I did. But Yamada and Kayama were pretty insistent on meeting you." 
"You told them about me?" you respond, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. 
He nods, not quite meeting your gaze. "I think they'd like you."
"Really?" You plop down on the couch with him and stretch your legs atop his lap. 
"Yeah," He gently grazes your thigh. "They were wondering why I've been acting so differently lately."
"Like what?"
"Apparently I'm smiling more and acting nicer and" — He air quotes — “Stopped looking homeless."
You laugh. "And what did you say?"
He shrugs, “That I guess my girlfriend just makes me really happy.”
“Awww,” you pat his cheek playfully. “What’s next? You gonna tell me you’re in love with me or something?”
"Yes? I thought it was obvious?"
"What?" Your heart skips a beat at his nonchalant admission.
“Hmm?” He looks over, and seeing the evident surprise on your face makes Aizawa chuckle. "I thought I'd been making it pretty clear, but I suppose I should say it outright. Yes, I'm in love with you."
Your heart flutters at his words, a warmth spreading through you. "Well, for someone who's known for being so straightforward, you sure took your time saying that."
He brushes a strand of hair from your face and leaves a soft, lingering kiss on your temple. “I’ll say it as many times as you want to hear it, baby.”
You lean in closer, your lips almost touching his. “Alright,” you look up at him with a sleepy smile and half-lidded eyes. “I’m waiting.”
"I love you," he whispers, his voice low and tender. He places a gentle kiss on your nose. “I love you,” and then another on your cheeks…“I love you.” Before gently brushing his lips against yours, cupping your jaw so you can’t help but gaze deeply into his dark, smoky eyes before he finally closes the distance between you.
“Mhhm.” You smile, contentment washing over you like a gentle wave. "I love you, too, baby."
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star-girl69 · 3 months
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i think aphrodite kid reader x clarisse is simply just better??? like the trope is just superior??? like, we have clarisse who is tough, and mean and one of the strongest people at camp, then we have reader who is kind and compassionate and really doesn’t care all that much about fighting. so naturally, clarisse is super protective and treats reader like a princess?? how could people dislike it 😔😔
no exactly and i actually must write about this - basically this is just all about the little things clarisse does for her perfect princess angel daughter of aphrodite gf (me!!!!!!)
okay as payment for my absence please accept some shitty headcanons I LOVE YOU ALL BYEEEE
she’s just always DOING THINGS FOR YOU
she’s so perceptive and she always knows exactly what you want and need even if you don’t know it yourself
like if you like wearing high heels one) clarisse genuinely wonders what is wrong w you
she sees no practicality in them bc there isn’t lol
but also she’s like omg???? MY GF feels safe enough around me to wear shoes she can’t run in???? WHAT JOY!!!!!!!!!
and you’ll come back to your cabin being all ugh omg my feet hurt so bad laying on the bed and putting your feet UP
and clarisse is like “well i could have told you that”
excuse me????
“don’t get me wrong baby you look gorgeous and i love you wearing heels but it’s your funeral”
“DIE”
she just laughs and takes your shoes off
she’ll continue to bully you as she’s literally massaging your feet like ok girl yeah we see you
clarisse is also a MENACE about making sure you eat
“did you eat today?”
“babe you SAW me at lunch”
“just making sure….”
you’re just so kind and amazing and clarisse loves you so much but you are not the best at fighting!
she is constantly stressed when you’re not by her side
bc no one loves you like her who will protect you 💔💔💔💔
when someone takes advantage of you she gets so PISSED OFF
bc it’s not like someone is beating you up it’ll be like someone is using you as their personal therapist or smth and you’re just like “pls go speak to an actual professional wtf 😭😭😭”
and she’s so pissed off bc WHY IS THIS BITCH PSYCHOLOGICALLY AND EMOTIONALLY TORTURING HER GIRL??????
she’s not afraid to beat people up for you and actually enjoys it!
anyways, clarisse is also a koala bear
and an emotionally stunted caveman
she’s not good with her words so these actions are all she has to show you that she loves you
idk if y’all have noticed but clar rarely saying ily to y/n bc it’s my personal headcanon that she has such a hard time saying those words. she shows you she loves you but for some reason it’s just so hard to get the words out. (…BC SHE IS AN EMOTIONALLY STUNTED CAVEMAN)
so she quickly adapts to do all these little things
if you’re walking down a flight of stairs trust she is holding your hand
QUEEN of opening jars for you
if you’re not feeling well or you’re tired or just feeling lazy she’ll bully someone into doing your chores for you
also this bitch is NOT afraid to stand up for you and make sure you get what you deserve.
like that one meme
“UM… she said NO PICKLES… you fucking dumbasses…”
“CLARISSE 😭😭😭”
also like in “better than revenge” she loves to watch you do your makeup
finds it so fascinating that you can only get PRETTIER
like she’s okay at makeup but you can do that shit perfectly like standing on your head
you make it seem so effortless
she’s not a HUGE makeup girly but sometimes she’ll let you just go crazy
so you can sit on top of her….. that one sapphic meme yes…..
also she’s constantly bragging about you
“yeah… i have the prettiest gf in camp… y’all are just losers what can i say”
ofc if anyone were to agree w her she would go insane
“yeah y/n is so pretty”
“um ok yeah you don’t have to say it i say it enough….”
even if one of your siblings gives you a compliment she’s like HOLD THE FUCK ON- then she remembers THATS YOUR SIBLING ITS OK and she’s like oh this is so embarrassing.
will she stop? no ofc not
she’s constantly telling you how pretty you are. beautiful. gorgeous. exquisite. all the words
loves kissing you all over
KISSES YOUR HAND 🤭🤭
anyways going back to the clarisse koala bear agenda that got away from me
she’s just always touching you
hand on the small of your hand guiding you somewhere
hand around your waist
SITTING IN HER LAP AT CAMPFIRES
no matter what type of hair you have she’s obsessed w it. if you have pin straight hair she’s so obsessed w the fact that you don’t need a huge curl routine like her, finds it fascinating
if you do have curls she loves doing a curl routine together
whatever whatever type of hair you have she’s obsessed with it and will wash it for you if you want
so soft and lovingly like a more of a scalp massage than a hair washing
will brush your hair for you, braid it for you, anything you like just OBSESSED
she loves when you like sit on top of a picnic table and then she gets to sit in between your legs on the bench thinks it’s so so fun and so so silly
she LOVESSSSS sleeping w you OBVI.
on top of you, you on top of her, she’s a koala bear. like entirely wrapped around you
partially bc she is as aforementioned a koala bear and partly bc she is overprotective even in her sleep
if you move in the middle of the night even just a little bit
she’s a super light sleeper i feel like
always on the guard fr ✊
a little bit better when you’re there tho
so if you move in the middle of the night she’ll just like caress your hair and kiss your cheek and try to shush you back to sleep
like bitch you’re still asleep have you never heard of ADJUSTING? MOVING? SHIFTING?
hope you’re not one of those people who has to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night bc with clarisse that will stop
you can’t abandon her even for 2 minutes even for basic bodily functions like you just can’t it’s so inconsiderate to her… 💔
taglist:
@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish @rebecca37 @saltair-and-palemoonlight @ace-spades-1
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vivwritesfics · 7 days
Note
I heard through the grapevine that your request were open only till tomorrow night so
Werewolf!carlos 🤭🤭 fluff
Y/n constantly teasing Carlos because he always looks like a confused puppy 🐶 and he’s like Amor im a dangerous apex predator not a puppy.
babe ily (also i was gonna write this, read THIS by @lewmagoo, fell in love with it and... this happened) (if you guys are as obsessed with Rhett Abbott as me plspls read it) (even if not still read it lol its so fucking good)
warnings: light smut
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Carlos was insanely protective over his family, over his pack.
His father was the head of the family, the leader of the pack. His life centred around protecting them. He'd raised his son with the same mind set, to protect his sisters, protect his mother.
He was vicious, but only when he needed to be. To anybody outside of the pack, Carlos wasn't calm, but he was in control, ready to lash out at a moments notice. Most avoided him at all costs.
But she didn't know. She didn't even know what he was when they first met. Her not being afraid of him was what drew him in. She was bold and Carlos wanted to know more.
He couldn't stay away from her. From the first time he took her to his bed, pushed his cock through her folds while she whined out his name, he knew he didn't want to. He wanted to keep her caged in his arms, his body moving against hers, for as long as he could.
It wasn't clear when they fell into a relationship. Carlos just didn't want her being with anybody else. They'd never said they were anything other than having sex, but every time a guy approached her, her was stride up to them, a growl leaving his throat (the guy always backed off after that).
Carlos was still insanely protective over his family, over his pack. She had become a part of that pack, even if she didn't realise it. (She had learnt what he was, had watched him transform right before her very eyes.)
Lando was his best friend. He'd been accepted by his family, accepted into his pack. Carlos couldn't help but treat him like a pup sometimes. In the occasions where Lando was acting childish (and not even in a bad way), Carlos could grab the back of his neck, calming him down instantly.
But there were some things that Lando said, usually attempting to speak Spanish, that had Carlos continued. Soy lago, Lando had said. Carlos's brows furrowed as he stared at his muppet friend. Lando repeated it again. When that sweet, confused look deepened on Carlos's face, she couldn't stop herself from laughing.
His girlfriend, the woman he was mated to, couldn't stop herself from laughing as she watched their interaction. A playful growl left Carlos's lips as he looked at her. But then he turned his attention back to Lando. "I am a lake?" He translated, incredibly confused.
She snorted, holding her stomach.
Suddenly Carlos was standing. He strode over to where she sat on the couch. He nipped at her neck, let out a noise from his throat (a cross between a growl and a whine, one that had her giggling).
"I'm sorry, my love," she said and kissed his nose. "You just... you look so cute when you're confused."
He glared, but she knew it wasn't serious. "I'm not cute," he insisted.
If she ran her hands through his hair, she knew she'd get him to purr like a cat. But she held back. Not in front of Lando (or he'd never live it down). "Carlos, you're fucking cute," she said. "You're like a sweet little puppy."
He stood up straight, her arms slipping from around his neck as he pulled away from her. "A sweet little puppy?! Cariño, I'm a dangerous predator, a killer, not a puppy!"
Her eyes went wide as she stared at him. "Could you say you've got... the skin of a killer?"
His face dropped as he stared at her. But his eyes flashes as he stared at her. "You're gonna get it now."
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flowerfan2 · 1 year
Text
Steve doesn’t notice there’s something else wrong until he gets his glasses.  The thing with his vision had been getting worse, and so he finally gave in to Robin’s nagging and went to an eye doctor.  And to the surprise of no one, the glasses help.
With his sight, that is.  But they also, strangely, show him something he hadn’t expected.  He’s having trouble hearing, too.
He can see clearly now that his friends act differently around him than they do each other.  When they want to get his attention, they stand right in front of him, and move in close.  If they are too far away, or off to the side, it’s sometimes as if they aren’t there at all, his hearing is so bad.  He can see them having conversations among themselves, heads thrown back in laughter and smiles pulling at their cheeks, but he can’t always make out what they’re saying.  
Steve’s at Eddie’s one night, relaxing on the couch with beer and pizza.  They’re supposed to be talking about who’s driving which kids to a dinner at the Byers’ tomorrow, and Eddie’s playing a new tape that Max gave him.  Steve should be happy, safe and comfortable, hanging out with his favorite person.  But Eddie’s bouncing around with excitement, pulling his hair over his mouth and jumping up to change the music, and Steve realizes he’s entirely lost.
“Could you just, maybe not-” he says, sharper than he meant, and Eddie turns to him, startled.
“Maybe not what, babe?”
Steve waves his hand towards the tape player.  “The music’s really loud.  It’s making it hard to…”
Eddie’s face falls, and Steve rushes to take it back.  “Sorry, no, the music’s fine-”
Eddie plops himself on the couch, sitting cross-legged and pulling at Steve until they’re facing each other.  When he speaks, it’s clear and his hair is firmly tucked behind his ears.  “Hey, no, don’t apologize.  It’s my fault, I should have realized.  I’m usually better at this.”
Eddie’s eyes are wide and understanding, and Steve has to look away for a long moment.  He knows.
Eddie touches his knee and waits until Steve looks back at him before he continues.  “We can get help for this too.  When you’re ready.  And, you know, there are other ways of communicating.”
“Ha ha,” Steve says dryly, thinking Eddie is flirting, but Eddie’s expression is too earnest for that.
“Okay, that too.  But also this.”  Eddie holds up his hand, rings and all, and forms his index finger and thumb into an L.  Then he lifts his pinky finger too, keeping his other fingers curled towards his palm, and directs it at Steve.
“What’s that?”
“It’s sign language for ‘I love you,’” Eddie says, picking up one of Steve’s hands and showing him how to do it.  “My mom taught it to me when I was little.  She said that way we could always talk to each other, even if we were far apart, like on the playground.”
“You know sign language?”
Eddie shakes his head.  “Not much, but I’ve been working on it lately.  I mean, I know plenty of words in fantasy languages, there’s no reason I can’t learn a real one.  Dustin and Robin are learning, too.  We just… didn’t know how to bring it up…”
Steve feels his eyes fill.  “I can’t believe you did that for me.”
Eddie gives Steve a pleased smile, then leans in for a kiss that soon turns into the kind of communication Steve thought Eddie was joking about earlier.  Later, lying in bed curled around each other, Eddie makes the “I love you” sign again, and Steve wants to kiss him forever.  
“Guess there’s an advantage to having a nerd for a boyfriend,” he whispers, and if he can feel more than hear Eddie’s laugh in response, at least he knows they’re in this together.
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hadesrise · 1 year
Text
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𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥.
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summary ➳ harry noticed you’re not like any other slytherin
pairings ➳ harry james potter x male reader
warnings ➳ fluff, mutual pining, foul language, reader being an adorable slytherin, touch-deprived harry, just the chosen one thirsting over reader lmao, mentions of making out, soft!slytherin reader, pet names ( darling, love )
author’s note ➳ rewatching harry potter made me recall the time when i used to fantasize about two persons from supposedly rival houses falling for each other and saying “fuck it” to their rivalry before making out. yes, it's typical, but i like it just the way it is.
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Of all the houses in Hogwarts, it’s well known that Slytherin is the most disliked one due to their personality that doesn’t seem to include kindness regardless of how others treat them. This might have only been a stereotype that students from other houses pushed on Slytherin, but they had a very reasonable excuse for thinking of Slytherins that way because of a particular blonde haired snake and his goons that terrorize anyone and everyone they come across. Not only that, but most people from Slytherin are unpleasant to say the least and Harry can only name a few who aren’t, like Professor Slughorn for example.
So, understandably, Harry thought you’re going to be as unpleasant as other Slytherins too after Hermione accidentally bumped into you and dropped her books to scatter all over the ground. The Golden trio were walking down the hallway leading towards Hagrid’s hut, talking to one another about how Professor Trelawney freaked out again today at Divination, with Hermione carrying books more heavier than usual (the two boys offered to carry them but she refused), before they turned a corner and she collided on a rather hard chest.
She was going to apologize, but her eyes — in sync with Harry’s and Ron’s — landed on the green colored tie with silver stripes, and the blood immediately drained from her face. It’s not like she can’t defend herself, considering she sucker punched Malfoy on the third year, but dealing with a bunch of snakes can be really exhausting sometimes and frankly, she isn’t in the mood to fight with them today.
Without a word, Hermione crouches down to pick up her books. Much to their surprise, the Slytherin knelt down to help her gather the heavier and thicker books Ron and Harry were about to pick up.
When they finally made an effort to look at the unusual Slytherin Hermione bumped into, Harry was surprised to see a very good looking and attractive boy with (h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes that seemed to spark under the light. Despite the books being heavy, you carried it easily as if they have the weight of a feather, placing another book on top of them — Harry figured you were reading it before the disaster struck.
“Are these books from Hagrid?”
The Chosen One felt his stomach fill with butterflies and heart suddenly beat rapidly at the sound of your soothing voice.
He was so used to Slytherins having that obnoxiously annoying voice, where he doesn’t know whether to cover his ears or rip them away from the sides of his head. But your voice was, even with a tone deeper than average, smooth and gentle. There was no hint of venom, distaste, unpleasantness, or despise. Just curiosity and interest. Harry also noticed you called Hagrid by his name rather than the awful big oaf other Slytherins call him all the time.
“Oh, uhm... Yes.” It took a while for Hermione to overcome the surprise and provide an answer.
“Interesting,” You hummed quietly. “I should drop by Hagrid and burrow some of his books too. He must have the book of Ancient Magical Creatures.” Muttering to yourself, the Golden trio couldn’t help but crack a smile when you seem to forget for a split second that you weren’t alone.
Gathering some courage, Harry decides to break your little bubble by hesitantly speaking. “Er — excuse me?”
“Yes?” You turn to look and catch his emerald eyes.
“You can come with us if you want. We don’t mind.”
A tiny bit of smile forms on your lips, almost unnoticeable. “With pleasure. Though, I don’t suppose it’s alright for Gryffindors to walk around with Slytherin.” You glanced around, “Some of the people from your house doesn’t tolerate their fellow Gryffindor hanging out with the rival house.”
“I think you’re okay,” Ron says reluctantly.
“If you say so.” Amusement flashes across your eyes. “Also, I’ll carry these books instead.” You didn’t let Hermione protest as you began to walk nonchalantly towards Hagrid’s hut with a slight delay to your steps; Harry figured you were purposely walking slower than your normal pace so it would be easy to walk with your shoulders lining with theirs.
You introduced yourself to them after successfully burrowing a book from Hagrid that you were searching for.
Ever since then, Harry would find himself scanning every classroom he’s in to look for you, taking mental notes of the similar classes you have together, and if you’re nowhere to be seen, he would just attempt to at least catch a glimpse of you in the Great Hall by the Slytherin table. Sometimes, when he’s fortunate enough, your eyes would meet his across the hall and you would give him the faintest of smile before returning to your meal. Other times, when the both of you are free, you would talk with each other for a while until the next class comes.
Spending his time with you made Harry notice things — such as how you’re mostly quiet, which isn’t very common in Slytherin; their loud voices being very distinguishable in the Great Hall explains that. You’re also a bit of a bookworm as he often sees you carrying or reading them around, it made him wonder why you weren’t placed in Ravenclaw, but he suppose being interested in books doesn’t automatically make someone a Ravenclaw. He also noticed the way your facial expression rarely shows rapid or strong emotions, mostly expressing boredom to anyone and anything around you, if not, your face just remains emotionless with a what Harry knew was called resting bitch face. Though, your wonderful eyes do spark seemingly brighter when you’re with him.
Another brilliant thing is finding out you don’t tolerate any of Malfoy’s bullshit.
You seem to disagree with everything the blonde says, which leads to Malfoy spitting some nasty insults in attempt to get under your skin, only to cower away when you raise a brow at him paired with deadly calm expression, which is much scarier than anything in Harry’s opinion. You were definitely not like any other Slytherin he’s ever met.
“Ron, getting a detention at potions isn’t a good reason to set Professor Snape’s office on fire!” Hermione hissed.
“But ‘ermione, he’s horrible!” Retorts Ron and turns to his best friend to plead, “Back me up here, mate!”
However, he doesn’t receive a response as Harry was too busy ogling at a particular someone by the Slytherin’s table, his hand not moving from the parchment that began to be soaked in black ink due to his quill being pressed on it. Ron and Hermione looked at each other questioningly and followed Harry’s gaze, their eyes landing on you eating quietly while ignoring the chaos members from your house were bringing. You almost looked peaceful despite surrounded by loud chattering, laughter, and the clinks of utensils against the plate.
Your patience isn’t high; you often get annoyed easily, but the way you’re unbothered no matter what’s happening around you made it seem like your patience was limitless.
Hermione rolled her eyes after realizing Harry was waiting for you to notice and rolls up the parchment she had before whacking the back of his head with it, successfully snapping him out of his daydream. “What do you think’s gonna happen if you just stare at (Y/n)?”
The Chosen One cleared his throat, taking a glance at you and quickly returning it to his best friends. “What am I supposed to do then? I can’t just walk up to him in front of other Slytherins.”
“I’d rather see you do anything than ogle at him everyday and act like an idiot.” She sighs exasperatedly.
For a boy who survived the Killing Curse and Voldemort’s multiple serious death threats, he was one hell of an annoying dork when it comes to love. He was painfully obvious with his growing crush towards you, even other Gryffindors had begun to suspect it, yet haven’t done anything to change the relationship you two have — sure, it can be called friendship, but Hermione and almost all of their friends could agree it is more than that. They couldn’t honestly contain their frustration at Harry being content with just this.
“It’s no use, Hermione.” Ron whispered when Harry went back to ogling at you. “He says he’s not going to do anything about it unless he’s sure there’s a chance.”
Sighing, the bushy haired girl shakes her head and slumped on her seat defeatedly.
How long do they have to deal with a lovesick Harry?
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Searching around the school grounds, Harry finally found you reading by the Black Lake, not caring that your robe might get dirty as you sat on the ground and read another book. It was a windy day that sent calm energy throughout your body, the rustling of leaves and the sound of lake soothing you more than usual, allowing you to focus more on the context of your book. You loved the silence where no voices or other noises can be heard, just the sound of nature slipping into your ears.
Harry slowly approached as to not startle you, but felt himself relax after you pay him no mind and sat down beside where you are. The sky seems brighter than he remembers, with only small particles of cloud littered all around.
“Are you feeling well?” You asked without looking up from your book, and Harry hugs his knees to his chest, watching the wind cause waves of water on the lake.
“Better now that I found you.” The seemingly flirtatious sentence was uttered in complete sincerity and seriousness that even Harry himself didn’t expect. The tip of his ears turned bright red in increasing embarrassment as you snapped your eyes to him, seeing an adorable blush spread rapidly across his cheeks, avoiding eye contact with you at all costs.
You hum, slamming the book shut. Harry was now staring straight ahead at the lake, as if there was something interesting in it, making amusement appear on your usually expressionless face. “Look at you blushing, Potter. So adorable.” You whispered the last part, almost teasingly, and he blushes even more.
“Well, you’re adorable as well.” Harry dares meeting your eyes. His heart bangs even more loudly in his chest after seeing the almost loving look in them, finding himself admiring you.
All playfulness leaves your face as you stare into each other’s eyes with a mirroring hint of adoration. You shift to lean back on one of your hand while the other rise to brush a hair out of Harry’s forehead, before cupping his cheek, admiring the way his emerald eyes sparked under the warm sunlight. This is your first time seeing his face close and having the time to focus on his features more; you knew Harry was attractive the moment you set eyes on him, but you realized he looked almost ethereal at this point, making your heart flutter.
“Your eyes are really captivating,” You muttered, barely audible but reached Harry’s ears nonetheless.
He chuckled breathlessly, “I got it from my mum.”
“She must’ve been such a wonderful woman then.”
Your thumb gently rubbed his cheek and Harry couldn’t help but lean to your touch and close his eyes. He’s been touch-deprived for long, being touched with care and gentleness made him weak in the knees easily. A coo escape from your lips; an unlikely sound for Slytherin to make. Before Harry could process what was happening, you had set aside your book and pulled him to your lap, settling him between your legs. Harry blinks, surprised.
“I’m seriously soft for you, Potter. Too adorable.” You sigh, burying your hand through his dark locks and softly scratching his scalp.
Getting over his initial shock, Harry relaxed and made himself comfortable, letting his body rest against yours as he laid his head on your chest. It worried him that you might hear his rapidly beating heart, but honestly couldn’t bring himself to care when you were being so generous, holding him, playing with his hair. If others were to see you and him like this, they would certainly assume it’s the end of the world for two rival houses to be cuddly with each other when they usually spit hatred.
Though, after meeting you, Harry had begun to believe not all Slytherins are bad — it’s just that people, including himself, unfairly stereotyped them as a bunch of evil-doers only because of the choices that older people from Slytherin made in the past, which the young Slytherins are definitely not in control of. There are questionable Slytherins like Malfoy and his goons, but they’re not a reason for others to start generalizing that all students from the snake house is evil.
Slowly and albeit hesitantly, Harry wraps his arms around your back and nuzzles your chest. You’re absolutely different from other Slytherin members, but he still found it odd that a Slytherin is this nice and affectionate, especially when you’re usually quiet and socially distant, preferring to be alone with slightest bit of annoyance directed at your fellow housemates.
Closing his eyes as sleepiness start to fall over his eyelids, the Chosen One wondered why you’re only doing this with and to him. He’s never seen you with anyone before, and when he did, you always maintained clear distance from them, as if they held contagious disease. It made him feel special in any way, but also confused.
“(Y/n)?”
His sleepy voice make you chuckle softly. “Hmm?”
“Why are you so affectionate with me?”
Your hand playing with his hair abruptly stops, and for a second Harry thought he made a mistake of mentioning it. However, relief floods him when you went back to massaging his scalp. “Isn’t it obvious, Potter?”
He shakes his head. Don’t want to assume.
Silence falls as you stop your hand again. Curiosity of your expression plaguing his mind, Harry opens his eyes and looks up without moving from his laying position — his breath almost stopping when he came across a very loving gaze staring at him like he was the entire universe. His heart swell as heat rushes to his cheeks. He attempted to hide his face by burying it on your chest, but you held him still, hand cupping his cheek once again.
You don’t even give him time to react before you captured his lips on yours, practically stealing Harry’s breath away. Just a gentle kiss on the lips, but enough to make his brain fuzzy.
Pulling away before he could reciprocate, you smiled. Not a forced one, but genuine and coming from the bottom of your heart. “Does that answer your question, Harry?”
Despite the fluttering of his heart and the urge to jump up and down in pure joy, Harry pouts. “Not enough.”
You chuckled. “I need to be persuasive then.”
Needless to say, you both missed the next class making out by the Black Lake and not caring about getting caught.
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Ron and Hermione were freaked out. The reason lies with Harry, who’s been in an awfully good mood the entire day to the point even Malfoy can’t get through him and he began noticing some good qualities in some of the Slytherin members. Don’t get them wrong, Harry being in a good mood is great because the boy deserves a day without constantly fighting for his life and feeling like everyone’s against him, but attempting to find the good qualities even in Malfoy? That’s when the two gets really concerned.
When lunch break comes around, Harry was still in a brilliant mood, smiling to himself because of whatever merlin knows. Ron and Hermione shares a look as they continue to eat, observing their best friend who began to look for you in the Slytherin table, his smile immediately widening after he sees you.
Hermione turns around just in time for you to look up from the foods and meet Harry’s eyes. Unexpectedly, a soft smile appears on your lips as you wave at him, not caring when your housemates see it. Harry chuckled, waving back, before you returned to eating your food in silence. The three of them witnessed Malfoy mutter something that caused you to roll your eyes and smack the back of his head with the book you were reading before.
“So,” Ron began after he and Hermione looked back at Harry. “Is there something you’re not telling us, ‘arry?”
The said boy only raised his eyebrows, unable to contain his grin.
“Come on, Harry!” Hermione urged.
Before anyone could respond, however, someone took a seat on the empty space beside Harry — turning their heads, they were surprised to see you there.
“Hello, love.” Harry almost melted at the pet name. You gave his best friends a polite smile, “Excuse him from your conversation for a moment, Hermione, Ron.”
“Of course, go ahead.” Neither of them could honestly deny a polite Slytherin no matter how much they want to.
“What is it?” Harry questioned, more than welcome to talk with you. However, you seem to have a different idea in mind as you leaned in without a word and captured his lips in a lingering kiss, hearing gasps erupt from multiple places — mainly Ron, Hermione, any Gryffindor who were wondering why a Slytherin paid Harry Potter a visit, Malfoy, his goons, and some other Slytherins who just happened to catch the moment. Few students from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw had their mouths open in shock as well.
There was a smug look on your face when you pulled away, smirking at Malfoy who was previously babbling some nonsense that you couldn’t possibly like Potter and are probably just using him. By the looks of it, you had succeeded in proving the blonde ferret wrong.
“What was that for?” Harry asked breathlessly. You caught him off guard.
“Oh, nothing. Just proving to gits that Gryffindor and Slytherin are sometimes compatible if it’s with the right person.” You shrugged, resting an elbow on the table and putting your chin on the palm of your hand. “In short, I wanted to prove people wrong who says we can’t be together since you’re a Gryffindor as I am a Slytherin.”
“Wait, someone told you that?”
“Rumors of us being seen making out by the Black Lake travels fast,” You sipped on Harry’s pumpkin juice, which he didn’t mind even the slightest as he blushed, avoiding Ron’s and Hermione’s wide and intrigued eyes. “One little bird from Ravenclaw thought it’d be wise to practically squeal it in the hallways that the rumor’s impossible because of our houses rivalry.”
You snort, “As if we give a fuck about that.”
For the first time, Harry actually saw the Slytherin in you.
And he wasn’t going to complain, not when you’re not like any other.
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© ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴅᴇsʀɪsᴇ. sᴛᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ, ᴘʟᴀɢɪᴀʀɪᴢɪɴɢ, ᴏʀ ᴜsɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ғᴏʀ ᴍᴏɴᴇᴛᴀʀʏ ɢᴀɪɴ ɪs sᴛʀɪᴄᴛʟʏ ᴘʀᴏʜɪʙɪᴛᴇᴅ. ᴀsᴋ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛɪɴɢ ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪɴɢ.
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