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#as time progressed it just became routine for them to be together
cursedcola · 10 months
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Prompt: "Will You Marry Me?" - Proposal Headcannons Characters: Everyone :) Part(s): Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore(Here!), Ignihyde, Diasomnia(Pt.1)(Pt.2) Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Warning(s): None. I mean, unless you don't want to marry any of them. Just don't read if that's the case. Note: May have overdone it. Also, I'm a bit rough with my french. It's been 2 years, go easy on me.
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There is a word for this young man. A term that has always been a one-way thing in his past. A noun that he has experience being the target of, and not the one it is describing.
Whipped. Oh, dear heavens, Vil is whipped for you. The thought both entices him and sends a shiver of distaste down his spine. Why? Because, my dove, in recognizing that he is whipped he is also acknowledging that he is dependent. Reliant. No longer the boss a** queen who needs nobody other than himself. The man the world knows him to be but this schoolboy crush has progressed to borderline infatuation.
Let us do a little synopsis of this downfall. A summary, if you will. An exploration of this Schoenheit's thought process as his prospective future melded from being Twisted Wonderland's resident supernova, to a domestic fantasy that would make his past self vomit.
It all began with a little birdy falling into a nest of snakes. Lost, alone, scared, weak - they slowly melted the hearts of everyone they came in contact with. Vil watched from the sidelines in interest. Not enough to investigate because *why* would he place his time in the hands of prey. It would be an utter waste.
Albeit so...Vil recognizes potential when he sees it. Not unlike himself, they took the hand they were dealt and carved a path to the top. He could respect that ... until there was a collision that threatened his own plans. Suddenly their oddities were no longer amusing and instead a hindrance. Like rain. Nice at the start, but the muddy aftermath never pleases.
And muddy his life became indeed. He became the villain he always disliked. Wretched and old. Completed his self-fulfilling prophecy...and somehow lost it all, yet gained something new in such a short span of time. He was no hero in the story, had no life-changing epiphany, yet somehow it felt different. For a brief moment, he was the fairest of them all to that little birdy. Despite his venom and scales, he was the fairest.
It dawns him that they both are not as alike as he once thought. He was playing a game of chess against someone playing checkers.
The oddity turned hindrance now became an object of interest. He started to watch them again and to approach as well. He wanted to bloom the potential he saw in them. Letting it go to waste would be neglectful on his part, so he would shelter them during their time in this den.
Or so he told himself.
While they could never make it to his level...the little birdy was morphing into a beautiful dove right before his very eyes. All without his help or a need for change. He never felt so desperate to be needed by someone else.
The object of interest becomes an object of affection. He doesn't want to recommend new potions, fashion, workouts, skincare routines - he wants to do them with you. He wants to sit in a rosewater bath together and talk about the day. He wants to be chided for wearing a sleepmask, blocking your view of his eyes at night. He wants to go on a morning jog together and share breakfast. To have you on his arm as he walks the carpet at premiers - brighter than any other accessory his stylist could choose. He wants to kiss your pulse points and smell his perfume on your skin. He wants to share clothes and give the press something to gossip about. He wants to love this little birdy who has always been a dove.
And he gets this fantasy. He has it for years but there is always an underlying gnaw beneath his skin that it is going to end - which he is prepared for initially. He does not do anything half-effort and dating you is not taken lightly - but he is prepared until he does not want to be. Until the possibility of splitting up is unfathomable and he can't imagine not having all the little moments that now he has become so...
Reliant. Whipped.
He initially wants you to propose to him, and hints at it frequently. How glorious would he look dressed in white, no? Which do you like better, black forest cake or almond chip? Oh dear...these tulips would make such a lovely Boquete for a bride...
You are either too dense to understand his hints (unlikely, considering you have years of practice) or he needs to take initiative. Well, if it is a proposal you want then it is a proposal you will get.
He stages it under the guise that he needs a partner for a photoshoot. Specifically for a wedding magazine. You, thinking this is another one of his blatant hints, comply to his pleasure. He calls in a contact from one of the magazines he has modeled for before and asks if they would like an inclusive - never before seen- scoop. Aka. to photograph his proposal and feature it on their front cover. With his reputation, the offer is accepted readily and they agree to set up the shoot with whatever theme he wishes. He goes traditional - set in a gothic chapel that is decorated with red and purple floral adornments. The works for a proposal with a dark vintage twist.
That morning, he leaves before you to handle a separate modeling gig. With a kiss to your wrist, he is gone and off to make sure that everything is perfect for when you arrive later on. Photographers know him for his tenacity, but none have ever seen Vil so anal over small details. Every ribbon must be perfect, there must be both black AND white rose petals spread along the walkway. You must be photographed in rose-tinted lighting, so the camera should face towards the biggest piece of stained glass.
When you arrive, you are escorted to hair and makeup in a whirl. The scene is a blur and you're decked head to toe in white. Gothic lace as far as the eye can see...and when you are finally allowed to enter the chapel, Vil stands haloed by his arranged decorations - waiting for you to join him.
"Stunning, my dear. You look absolutely stunning. A sight I will have etched in my thoughts for many nights to come..." he takes your hand, and signals for the cameramen to get ready. They instruct you both to pose as a couple taking their vows. The camera clicks once, and then Vil gets down on one knee.
You think it's part of the act and that he is improvising. Well, until he pulls out a ring from his breast pocket. One that is a sharp contrast from the dark atmosphere and obviously not a prop.
"Alas, my patience runs dry. I can no longer wait for you..." he begins, and takes your hand in his. Another click echoes in the room, "with this ring, I make you mine. There will be no escape. No lies or uncertainties. I am already yours. I have been for many, many years. Will you finally join me in matrimony?"
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{Black Opal. Staring into the gem puts any viewer in a trance. It sucks them in with bright swirls - hypnotizing. It is so beautiful with its intricate pattern, yet at a distance it appears solely black. We often narrow complex things down to one-note interpretations. Do with this information what you will}
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Our man of mystery likes to keep things fresh. He loves the thrill of the chase. The anticipation. The adrenaline.
There is no better game of cat and mouse in life than romance. At every stage there are twists and turns that one can never predict. Each day brings new surprises and events! At least, that is what Rook believes a relationship should entail. No partnership should ever feel the lull of comfort...no-no. There must always be a little spice and sweetness around every corner to keep the relationship alive.
At your side, Rook does not doubt his beliefs for a second. You are like a magnet for attention and rightfully so. Out of all the people he finds interesting...you are the most tantalizing to observe. He finds himself following your every movement early on. Long before you began to enter his personal bubble, you were rare prey for the hunt. Otherworldly, full of secrets, attentive, attractive, enticing - he had his mark set so firm that he would have watched you even without Vil's order.
Nothing is missed under his fond scrutiny. Rook is the first to notice small things, like if you trimmed your hair or sewed new buttons on your blazer. He has your walking pace memorized to match when he is at your side. He knows your favorite meals in the dining hall, your habitual seat in the library, how to read your body language, what your favorite treats are and when you like to have them - his knowledge is so extensive that it's up to you if it is considered sweet or creepy. Rook's affections are often teetering the line with infatuation; however, he is not controlling or weird about it. He simply is a romantic who feels the need to know the ins and outs of the person he will give his heart to.
If that includes protecting you from ill-mannered heathens and appearing out of thin air to catch you if you trip? Well, best not question where he comes from. Just know that you have a second shadow. He will only become worse when his affections are returned. You may feel the need to set ground rules for how he can behave in public. Loud declarations of compliment and suggestive topics will not be reigned in otherwise. He is a lover and a fighter. Remember that.
There will come a day that Rook feels you are ready to marry him. Yes, specifically you. He was ready very early on, likely because pining for so long (while exciting) was a chase that gave him plenty of time to learn what he wants. Any time spent waiting was merely for your sake. Only when he notes your fondness towards the idea of marriage does he create a series of tests to ensure your desires. Things like leaving a wedding magazine on the counter to see your reaction, and taking you for a romantic boat ride that just so happens to be a hotspot for couples on their honeymoon. He also mentions the topic in his flirtations more often, to see if you'll respond in kind or shy away. He is a thorough man, if anything.
Oddly enough, he takes a reserved approach for proposing. He uses poetry, which is not unlike him considering how he loves to speak with flourishes. In his heart Rook would love to set up an elaborate event to propose. Something exciting, like a train mystery or a scavenger hunt. Yet some things do not need to be active to be thrilling. Marriage is a delicate act, so it is with a delicate hand that he pens a book of poetry over the course of nineteen days. On each day, he writes one poem to describe one reason he wants to marry you. The first letter in the title of each poem corresponds to a hidden message that you will have to decipher. He does not tell you either of these things.
He hands the book off to you with a cunning grin, and says that it is up to you to find the hidden meaning. If you can, then he will give you a 'special prize'. If you ask the occasion, he offers one of his closed-eye grins and claps his hands. 'Because why not?' He'll say, and it's enough to pacify because it is such a Rook way of thinking that you don't question it.
No matter how long it takes, he waits. He'll watch you analyze each poem and pout for an answer - one he refuses to give. It's all in the chase, after all. He can be patient. All good things come to those who wait.
One cold afternoon, he finds you curled up on the couch in your shared home. A blanket around your shoulders, a hot drink, and the book nestled in your lap. Nothing out of the usual...aside from the pen in your hand hovering over a notebook. Silent as a mouse, he hovers over your shoulder to take a peek and smirks at what has you so miffed.
"Ah...I take it you have words for me, mon coeur. Are they perhaps about a certain mystery?" You jump, and slam the notebook shut before turning around. His eyes crinkle in delight at the sight - his well waited prize. The flush of your cheeks suggest you solved the puzzle and the sweat on your brow shows that you know he knows. Rook rounds about the couch in an instant and crouches on his knees in front of you. He takes your notebook, opens it, and displays the words 'Will You Marry Me?' for you. "Is this your answer? Are you confident?" You nod, avoiding his eyes and he grabs your chin to face him. With a hum of approval, he tips off his hat to pull out a wooden box. In the box is a ring, and he effortlessly slips it onto your finger without asking permission. "Mon moitié...mon trésor. Je te chérirai. Je t'aimerai. Je ne te laisserai jamais partir. Avec cette bague, je suis à toi jusqu'à ce que la mort nous sépare…"
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{A large pearl, nested between two emeralds, and a pure gold band. In Rook's eyes, the ring should compliment the wearer. It is the accent piece to your beauty. It should be comfortable, so you never have reason to remove it. In addition to this, it should also serve as a reminder that he is always looking for you. The pearl represents his untainted affection, and the two emeralds are his all-seeing eyes. He hopes this ring brings feelings of comfort and safety}
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He is beauty, he is grace, he will punch you in the face - unless you're the object of his affections. Then you get a get out of jail free card. One use. Reinstated every time his heart skips a beat.
Our young lad is a bit of an unpredictable case when it comes to his emotions. Growing up in a small town like Harveston, there was no one his age to spend time with. NRC became his first exposure to people his age, and that made you his first love by default. He wasn't looking for it, didn't have any way to identify it, and frankly he disliked the emotions at first for various reasons. There is a lot to unpack here.
As everyone knows, Epel has a feminine appearance. The exact opposite of how he feels inside. The frilly clothes his dorm makes him wear do nothing to fix that - and now there is this tingling feeling in his chest that takes away his thought process? No. Just no. Not welcome at all. He needs his wits to make up for his unassuming appearance, and he ain't going to have some stranger twisting that about just because they're a bit attractive. Every apple tastes sweet until you try another kind - he says to himself.
He lets it fester for some time and actively avoids you. He sees the hurt in your eyes at his offput demeanor, but can't do much about it. It's your fault if you want to put yourself out there when everyone knows he's not the biggest talker.
Unfortunately...you stick around. Being in his academic year means that most of your classes align, and eventually your friend group does as well. There is no getting around you, and it doesn't take long for other people to connect the dots. Any chance at him getting a tougher reputation were ruined before they even began.
Eventually his resilience runs out and he gives in. Except now we have reason two - he has no chance with you. Zip. Nada. How Lovely.
Why the h*ll would ya go for this country bumpkin with the social skills of a rock? You'd be crazy to an' he ain't going to put himself out for heartbreak.
Now he's stuck humming love tunes and making carved apples of your face because he has years of pining built up with no outlet. It's pitiable, which makes him seethe because he can't do nothin' about it. Rook teased him once after finding Epel making yet another carving while laying in bed, and barely missed getting an apple to the head. The splattered remains of his fruit art on the wall spoke more than any threat could.
Point being, he is emotionally stunted and so he does not ever confess. Not until you do, that is. In that moment all class flew out of his body and he reverted to the socially challenged boy he was before enrolling at NRC. An extremely rare sight for anyone to see...he cringes thinking back on it. When you first said your feelings, he thought you were pulling a prank and got pissed. When he processed that you were serious, Epel lost control of himself and just blurted his thoughts out like a child.
Which is why his proposal is going to be different. It *has* to be different. This time, he'll be the one to ask you and he'll be prepared to avoid any mess ups. He refuses to be one-upped for such an important moment. This time you will be the flustered mess, and he will be the collected one.
To do this, he chooses to propose back in Harveston where he is most in his element. You'll both stay with his family on a weekend vacation in autumn, which meant there would be plenty of open land to arrange for something nice. Not to mention nice scenery from all the fallen leaves and orchards being in bloom. After a long talk with his family, he'd arrange to take you on a day tour of the land on horseback. Basically flaunt all of his farmboy knowledge for a confidence boost, and at the end of the night he'd light a campfire. With some warm cider, the noises of the night, and calm warmth of the hearth - he'd propose. It was almost perfect. *Almost*.
A simple ring feels too disconnected for Epel, and anything extravagant is too expensive considering the family farm's financial state. So, he decides to make it extra special by carving the ring box himself. Wood isn't that much different than apples...
On the first night he decides to work on some finishing touches after you've gone to sleep, and sits on the front porch to widdle away at the design. Like he does when carving apples, he hums a tune into the night as he focuses. Thoughts of the next day making him a bit louder and more excitable than usual - which, unfortunately wakes you up.
The front door opens and he pays it no heed, thinking it's one of his parents coming out for some fresh air. When you plop down next to him and look at the box - well, to say the earth shattered would be an understatement.
"Why aren't you sleepin'?!" His heart hammers and he tries to hide the box under one of his legs. The reaction being too late, since you already got a good look at it. You quirk an eyebrow at his haste, and a mischievous glint twists in your eye. Without warning, you fight him to see what's behind his back. 'What'cha got there Epel~ Why you so embarased huhu~' you tease and his ears flush a deep red. "It's nothin'! Mind your own buisness" 'Well clearly it's something' "I said it's not for you! Get your hands off me," 'Oh? I thought you liked my hands on you~ It looked like a ring box though. Who're you giving a ring to, huh?' "Dangit maybe you'd find out if ya stopped ruining your own surprises!" In his last attempt to avoid your teasing, he tries to yank away but drops the box. It hits the porch with a thud and the lid pops open to show an engagement ring. "...ah sh*t," he swears and hastily crouches to pick it up. You don't tear your eyes away from it, neither from the carvings or how your name is etched in perfect cursive on the lid. Still on his knee, Epel checks the ring for damage before noticing your shocked stupor. He looks at the box again, and signs through his nose before turning towards you. "I had a whole day planned, y'hear me?! For once, I wanted ta be the one surprisin' you...but seein' how you're all tight lipped now, guess I did a good, huh? So? What'dya say? Will you marry me?"
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{Crafted using the common hardwood from one of the many apple trees on the family farm. On the outside, there is a carving of a tree taking roots to symbolize the start of a new life. Definitely not because he was surrounded by trees while working on it, and decided to use them for inspiration. When the box is open, the top lid has your names carved along with the date. Well, the date of his *intended* proposal. That will need to be altered. Inside is a simple rose-gold band with small diamonds. Despite the ring's simplicity, he hopes his efforts to make you feel special are not in vain}
NOTE: Translation for Rook: "I will cherish you. I will love you. I'll never let you go. With this ring, I'm yours till death do us part"
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immadowhateva · 13 days
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The not so secret.
Leah Williamsom, the stalwart defender of Arsenal Women's Team, sauntered onto the pitch, a facade of nonchalance painted on her face. She glanced over at 'Y/N', her secret girlfriend, who stood beside her, radiating warmth and laughter.
"You ready for another round of pretending to be 'best mates'?" Leah muttered under her breath, her tone laced with sarcasm.
Y/N flashed her a mischievous grin. "Always, love. We're the dynamic duo, remember?"
The routine was all too familiar. Interviews, games, public appearances – they were always together, yet never truly together. The rest of the team knew about their relationship, but they kept it under wraps, afraid of the scrutiny that might follow if it became public knowledge.
As they faced the barrage of questions from reporters, Leah maintained her gruff demeanor, while Y/N charmed everyone with her infectious smile and witty comebacks. But beneath Leah's tough exterior, something was stirring.
During one particularly tedious interview, Y/N cracked a joke that had Leah suppressing a smirk. She admired Y/N's ability to find humor in any situation, even when they were forced to hide their true feelings.
As the season progressed, the public started to take notice of the chemistry between Leah and Y/N. Speculation ran rampant, with fans and journalists alike beginning to suspect that there was more to their relationship than just friendship.
Leah couldn't deny the flutter of warmth in her chest whenever she caught Y/N's eye or felt her touch. She found herself stealing glances at her girlfriend when she thought no one was looking, a softness in her gaze that betrayed her stoic facade.
After a particularly intense match, the team gathered in the locker room, celebrating their victory. As the teasing banter ensued, Leah felt a blush creeping up her neck when her teammates started teasing her about her undeniable fondness for Y/N.
"Looks like the captain's got a soft spot after all," one of them teased, earning a playful shove from Leah.
Y/N wrapped an arm around Leah's waist, leaning in close. "Don't worry, babe. Your secret's safe with me," she whispered, her voice filled with affection.
Leah couldn't help but smile, her heart swelling with love for the woman beside her. Despite the challenges they faced, she knew that as long as they had each other, they could weather any storm that came their way.
And as they walked out of the locker room, hand in hand, Leah couldn't shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, it was time to let the world see the truth – that she and Y/N were more than just 'best mates' on the pitch.
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bitchiswild · 2 months
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Private Lessons
Sub!GP Kazuha x F! Reader Word Count: 3.2k Warnings: smut, cream-pie, giving head, miss kink?, etc. A/n: I’m sorry I make it sound like y'all cum in 3 seconds😭 Requested
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"Once again, starting from the beginning!" Your voice echoed across the dance room. "1 & 2 & 3 & 4 & 5 & 6 & 7 & 8-, Stop!" With a swift motion, you raised your hand, bringing the music to a halt and signaling the dancers to freeze.
Your gaze, sharp and focused, swept over the group. "Kazuha, your Grand Adage needs improvement; we aim for perfection here," you asserted, your tone firm.
Kazuha visibly shrank under your scrutiny, offering a meek apology, "Sorry, miss."
"Let's go through it once more, starting from the top. Remember, girls, ballerinas are perfect, so you need to be perfect," you exhorted with a commanding tone, letting out a sigh that carried a sense of expectation.
As the music started afresh, the dancers resumed their positions. "1 & 2 & 3 & 4 & 5 & 6 & 7 & 8-," you counted, guiding them through the routine. However, as the sequence progressed, Kazuha faltered, missing a step in her Grand Adage.
"Kazuha, pay attention! You've got to get it right," you exclaimed, your voice holding a mix of frustration and determination. The other dancers watched as you corrected Kazuha, emphasizing the importance of precision in every movement.
Despite your corrections, Kazuha continued to struggle with the Grand Adage. Another misstep caused her to stumble, and you couldn't help but release an exasperated sigh. "Kazuha! We need to perfect this move by next week! Focus!," you urged, your tone carrying a hint of disappointment.
Kazuha, now visibly anxious, stammered an apology, "I-I'm sorry, miss. I'll try harder."
Recognizing her unease, you softened your tone, "Take a deep breath and try again. But remember, you need to get this right." As the class ended, you addressed everyone, "Great effort, everyone! Class dismissed, except for you, Kazuha. I need to talk to you after class."
Alone in the now quiet dance room, Kazuha stood nervously before you. Her eyes darted anxiously as she awaited your feedback.
"You're talented, Kazuha, but you seem a bit nervous out there," you remarked, your tone gentler than before. "Tell me, what's going on? Is something bothering you?"
Kazuha blushed then hesitated before speaking, "I... I'm just scared of messing up. I don't want to disappoint you."
You sighed, realizing the pressure she felt. "It's okay to make mistakes; that's how we learn. But you can't let fear control you. I believe in your potential. Take a deep breath and trust yourself. We'll work on it together."
As you observed Kazuha's nervous demeanor, you decided to take a more hands-on approach to help her overcome her fears. "Let's break it down step by step," you suggested, guiding her through the movements with patience. "Start with the first position and breathe. Remember, it's okay to take your time."
Kazuha blushed as you stood close, her heart racing while you provided gentle guidance. Nodding, she attempted the steps under your watchful eye. Despite the initial struggle, she began to regain some composure with each repetition. You offered words of encouragement, emphasizing the importance of confidence in dance.
After some time, Kazuha's movements became more fluid, and a sense of accomplishment replaced the earlier anxiety. "See, you've got this! Mistakes happen, but it's how we learn from them that matters," you reassured her.
Kazuha found herself in a bit of a daze, mesmerized by the way your body moved during the dance. It stirred something in her skirt. You looked absolutely stunning.
“Kazuha?” you called out, snapping your fingers in front of her face. “Are you okay?” concern evident in your voice.
Snapping out of her trance, she blushed, hastily putting her hand in front of her to hide her incoming hard on. “Y-Yea, T-Thank Y-You, Miss,” she stammered out.
You stared at her intently, your gaze eventually shifting down, noticing her predicament. Your mouth formed an 'oh' shape as you realized what was happening.
Kazuha, realizing where you were looking and began to apologize profusely. “I-I’m so s-sorry, Miss. It's just y-you’re so b-beautiful, a-and t-the w-way y-your b-body m-moves-" she stammered, her words filled with genuine embarrassment.
You chuckled, moving closer to Kazuha until you were by her ear. In a soft whisper, you said, “I'm glad you see me this way.” Your warm breath made Kazuha shudder. She instinctively placed her hand on your waist, drawing you closer, as your arms gently wrapped around her neck.
Caught off guard by your unexpected revelation, Kazuha's nervousness intensified. "W-What do you mean?" she stammered, her eyes wide with a mix of surprise and uncertainty.
You maintained a teasing smile, "It means," you explained, your voice carrying a hint of amusement, "I have the hots for you too."
As the weight of the confession hung in the air, Kazuha's response was palpable – a shuddered breath and a whimper that betrayed the intensity of the moment. Responding to the unspoken tension, your hand instinctively rose, delicately caressing her face.
"Can I kiss you?" you asked, your gaze meeting hers, your eyes framing the question with a subtle charm. Kazuha whimpered again, her nod indicating consent. Yet, you gently tsked, your voice soft but firm, "I need words, Kazuha." She stammered a nervous agreement, "Y-Yes, miss," prompting a soft hum and understanding smile from you.
You closed the gap, pulling her into a kiss that carried the weight of tension between the two of you. Your hand slowly went down to touch her hard on, causing her to whimper in your mouth, while bucking her hips into your hands.
Your kisses grew more intense. Gently, you guided Kazuha towards the nearest wall, and she willingly pressed into your touch, her breath becoming rapid with anticipation.
"Please," she whimpered against your lips, her desire evident as your hands continued to rub her clothed dick. Pulling back slightly, you met her gaze with a playful smirk.
"Please what, Kazuha?" you teased, your fingers still teasing her aching member.
"Please, miss, touch me," she pleaded, her desperation clear in her voice.
"But I am touching you," you teased back, enjoying the effect you were having on her.
With a desperate whine, Kazuha hastily pulled down her skirt, her member now exposed and throbbing against her stomach, the tip flushed a deep, angry red.
As Kazuha's cock throbbed against her stomach, her breathing ragged with anticipation, you couldn't resist the urge to indulge her desires further. With a devilish grin, you trailed your fingertips along her exposed cock, eliciting a shiver of pleasure from her.
"Please, miss, I need more," she pleaded, her voice trembling with need.
Unable to deny her, you leaned in close, your breath hot against her ear as you whispered, "Tell me exactly what you want, Kazuha."
Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and desire, but she didn't hesitate to voice her desires. "I need your touch, your mouth, anything, please," she whimpered, her hands reaching out to grasp yours and guide them to where she craved them most.
You obliged, your fingers tracing teasing circles around her sensitive flesh, each touch igniting a spark of pleasure within her. Kazuha's moans filled the air as she arched against you.
You knelt down, her member still pulsating in your grasp, eliciting a symphony of moans from her lips. Her dick was hard, ready to explode as she had been waiting for this moment. With a sultry gaze, you met her eyes, maintaining unbroken contact as you traced the path of a prominent vein running from the base of her cock to its red tip with your tongue.
Kazuha's breath hitched as she watched you, anticipation mounting with each flick of your tongue. Your lashes fluttered seductively as you looked up at her. Without hesitation, you enveloped the head of her cock with your mouth, the sensation causing Kazuha's knees to weaken beneath her.
Her moans and whimpers grew louder, the pleasure coursing through her veins as you took her entire cock in your mouth. Your tongue danced skillfully around her, eliciting a chorus of desperate gasps and whimpers from Kazuha's trembling lips.
"F-Fuck, Miss, I'm gonna cum," Kazuha whimpered, her hand reaching out to push your head closer. You continued to shove her member down your throat, moaning as spit dripped down your chin.
Her hips began to stutter as the sensation of her member sliding into the tight confines of your throat overwhelmed her. Her legs trembled with the intensity of pleasure as her member throbbed against your tongue, each deep-throat sending waves of ecstasy coursing through her body. Kazuha's movements became erratic as she pressed her hips forward, her moans reduced to breathless whimpers as her body convulsed with pleasure. With a shudder, her hips pushed as far as they could, and a primal moan escaped her lips as her balls tightened, signaling her impending orgasm.
You felt her cock grow even harder in your mouth as her warm, salty cum began to shoot out, filling your mouth with each pulsating release. Kazuha's hips bucked uncontrollably as she emptied every last drop of her cum into your waiting mouth, her body trembling with the intensity of her release.
As her body trembled with the aftershocks of her orgasm, you tenderly withdrew from her member, relishing the lingering taste of her salty cum on your tongue. Kazuha sank against the wall, sliding down to sit on the floor, her chest heaving with the exertion of her pleasure. Panting heavily, she fixed her gaze on you, a mixture of gratitude and desire swirling in her glazed eyes.
You knelt down beside her, your own breath still ragged from the intensity of the moment. Gently, you reached out to brush a strand of hair away from her flushed face, a tender smile playing on your lips as you took in the sight of her satiated form.
"Are you okay?" you whispered softly, your voice filled with concern and tenderness.
Kazuha nodded, her lips curving into a contented smile as she reached out to intertwine her fingers with yours. "More than okay," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
With a gentle tug, Kazuha pulled you into her arms, her voice filled with a desperate plea. "I want to make you feel good too, miss," she whimpered, her longing evident as she pressed her body against yours.
Feeling her urgency, you allowed yourself to be guided by her eager hands. Before you knew it, Kazuha had pushed you onto your back on the floor, her movements swift as she deftly removed your skirt and underwear in one fluid motion, exposing your core to her hungry gaze.
With a sense of anticipation, Kazuha's hand reached out to swipe at your slick folds, causing a jolt of pleasure to course through you. You couldn't help but buck your hips into her touch, a guttural groan escaping your lips at the sensation.
"Shit, Kazuha," you moaned, the intensity of her touch sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body.
"Am I making you feel good, miss?" Kazuha asked shyly, her hand never ceasing its tantalizing movements as she slowly slid inside you, making you shudder with pleasure.
"Y-Yes, just like that, Kazuha," you moaned in response, your voice thick with desire as you surrender yourself to the intoxicating pleasure of her touch.
She dipped her head closer to your cunt, her tongue swiping teasingly at your clit while her fingers continued their relentless thrusting inside you. The sensation was electrifying, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your body.
As she began to suck on your clit with increasing fervor, a guttural moan escaped your lips, your hands instinctively flying to grip her head, pulling her closer to you. The combination of her tongue and fingers was driving you wild, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
Then, with a knowing touch, Kazuha's fingers found your G-spot, and she intensified her thrusts, hitting just the right spot to send you over the edge. Your body arched in response to her thrusts.
You cried out in ecstasy, your body shaking as the waves of pleasure crashed over you. Kazuha continued her ministrations, her touch gentle yet insistent as she guided you through the aftershocks of your orgasm.
As you lay there, trembling and breathless, Kazuha pulled you into her arms, holding you close, with a slow and deliberate movement, you began to grind your soaking core against her hardening member, eliciting a whimper from Kazuha as the warm friction ignited a new wave of arousal within her. The sensation was electrifying, and you both moaned in anticipation as you felt the delicious pressure building between your bodies.
Lifting your hips, you guided her member to your entrance, the tip dipping slowly into your slick heat. Both you and Kazuha whimpered at the sensation, the anticipation nearly unbearable as you gradually took her entire length inside you.
"M-Miss, Y-you're so tight," Kazuha whimpered, her eyes fixed on your conjoined heat as she watched her thick cock disappear inside you. Her hand tightened around your waist, holding you close as you both became lost in the overwhelming sensation.
“F-Fuck! Kazuha, you're so good to me” You moaned, as you began riding her. “Such a pretty girl, are you my good girl?” You said to her as you gripped her face, forcing her to look at you.
“Y-Yes” She whimpers out, you rolled your hips into the whimpering girl.
"Yes, what?" you questioned her, your tone stern as you bounced on her member harder, eliciting even more whimpering from her.
"Yes, what, Kazuha?" you asked her, your voice filled with anticipation as you continued to move your hips, riding her cock with fervent passion. Each thrust brought you closer to that edge of ecstasy, driving you both crazy.
"Y-Yes, Miss," she cried out in response, her voice filled with need as her dick throbbed intensely inside you, ready to release its load.
She spilled thick spurts of cum, coating your walls in warmth, you leaned down to capture her lips in a passionate kiss. Your spit connected as you pulled away for a split second to lick it up from Kazuha's lips, eliciting a moan of pleasure from her.
The warm feeling of her cum against your walls sent a shiver of pleasure down your spine, your own orgasm nearing with each passing moment.
"S-Shit, Kazuha," you muffled your screams into her shoulder as your stomach tightened, your legs beginning to shake and your vision blurring as white-hot pleasure sporadically consumed you in waves.
You both collapsed onto the floor, your bodies entwined in a state of bliss. The air was filled with the soft sounds of your labored breathing as you basked in the afterglow.
Gradually, as the waves of pleasure subsided, a sense of calm washed over you both. Kazuha nestled against you, her head resting on your chest as you gently stroked her hair, soothing her with your touch.
Feeling tears on your chest, you gently pulled Kazuha away to look at her, a worried expression on your face. "Kazuha, what's wrong?" you asked softly, concerned that you might have crossed a line.
"I-I'm sorry," she cried out, her voice trembling with emotion.
"W-What are you sorry for?" you questioned her, still worried about her well-being.
"I-I'm sorry for c-cumming inside you," she hiccuped, her words filled with guilt.
You let out a sigh of relief, realizing the source of her distress. Then, a chuckle escaped your lips as you reassured her, "It's okay, I don't mind it."
With a reassuring smile, you got off her member, you reached down between your legs, thrusting your fingers inside yourself and pulling them out, now coated in her cum. Without hesitation, you brought your fingers to your mouth, licking them clean.
As you looked into Kazuha's eyes, you could see her gaze darken behind the tears, a mixture of emotions swirling within her. Without a word, she crawled closer to you, straddling your hips as she pressed her hard cock against your wet heat. Gently, she rubbed it between your folds, eliciting a shiver of pleasure from you both.
With a shaky breath, Kazuha pushed herself inside you, her tears still streaming down her face from the guilt she felt. Your back arched at the stretch, the intrusion causing you to grasp onto Kazuha's back and groan in pleasure as she wasted no time in adjusting. Your legs instinctively wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer as she began thrusting her hips into yours.
The room quickly filled with the squelching sounds of your bodies moving together, Kazuha's cock stretching you out while your walls squeezed tightly around her with each stroke.
"You feel so good, miss, oh my god," Kazuha cried out, her voice filled with a mixture of pleasure and longing. You reached your hands to her face, wiping away her tears in a gesture of reassurance.
Her heavy balls collided with your skin with each thrust, her panting breaths hot against your ear as her back flexed with each powerful movement. Her cock slid in and out, each thrust growing more intense as she slammed back into you with increasing fervor.
"Oh my god, I'm gonna cum, miss," Kazuha whimpered, the urgency in her voice matching the frantic pace of her thrusts. You trembled under her, her cock stretching you in all the right places as you urged her on.
"Cum, Kazuha, cum in me," you cried out, your voice filled with desire as your body moved with her thrusts.
Kazuha's whiny moans fueled your own arousal, her pace becoming hard and deep as her balls slapped against you with each powerful thrust. Your walls began fluttering around her throbbing cock, the intense sensation driving you both closer to the edge.
With a final, primal cry of pleasure, your walls clamped and milked around her throbbing cock as it continued to spurt heavy streams of cum inside you. Kazuha buried her head in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent as both of your legs shook with the intensity of your shared orgasm.
Kazuha collapsed on top of your body, you held her close, ignoring the sweat that coated both of your bodies. You brushed her hair behind her ear and placed a tender kiss on her forehead as she sighed contently in your embrace.
"You did so good, Kazuha. I'm proud of you," you murmured softly, your voice filled with genuine admiration as you continued to caress her back. Though Kazuha blushed at your words, you didn't notice as you both remained there in each other's embrace for a while.
Eventually, Kazuha got off of you and helped you clean up and change. The two of you then made your way to the door, staring at each other with a mixture of affection and longing.
As you locked the door, you turned to look at her and leaned in to give her a gentle peck on the lips. "I'll see you tomorrow," you told her with a wink, leaving her standing there as she watched you walk away.
The lingering warmth of your embrace and the sweetness of your parting kiss filled Kazuha's heart with a sense of happiness and contentment. She couldn't help but smile as she watched you disappear into the distance, already looking forward to seeing you again the next day.
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154 notes · View notes
animehideout · 2 months
Note
Hello!! can you do gojo x dumb but kind reader?
like reader could be playing a game and someone starts bragging to her about how they won and she just like "Oh okay well I think you were really good! you deserve it:D"
Like she can making anyone who was insulting her feel bad in seconds
and gojo sometimes calls u dumb or makes joke that you don't understand so you think he's serious or calling you dumb so you start crying and he has to make it up to you (^o^)
Please and thank you lots of fluff as well!!!
Gojo Satoru X Dumb but Kind Fem! Reader
a/n: thanks anon for this request, and sorry for the late update 🫶🏻
ps: I'm working on all the requests, sorry for taking too long to post all of them, but there are a lot of requests + working on Wattpad so thank you for your understanding
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It became a weekly routine for you to gather in the Jujutsu high school common room, playing games together to unwind and have some fun, aiming to relieve stress of the missions. Occasionally, students from Kyoto high schools joined in for friendly competitions.
Gojo, was always there, he has always enjoyed the competitive spirit during these sessions.
The air was full of laughter and cracking jokes every now and then. You were quietly playing by yourself in a corner, minding your own business. But, your peace had to be interrupted by none other than Mai. She's always eager to tease and make fun of you without any apparent reason. She enjoyed showing off, knowing you wouldn't fight back. You're just too kind for this world.
She approached you and everyone in the room knew what she's about to say, a smirk revealing her intentions.
"Watcha doing, Y/n? Oh, you're still there. I don't think you made any progress. You see, I already won that game—all the levels."
Her aim was clear: to make you feel weak, dumb and like a loser. However, you excelled at turning insults into lessons in kindness. Without missing a beat, you paused your game, flashed a smile, and responded,
"Oh, wonderful! You did well Mai; you deserve it."
It's Mai we're talking about, so she wouldn't feel bad, but rather embarrassed. She continually attempted to bring you down, but always faces your kindness every time. Not only her, but others often underestimated your abilities, often teasing you about it and calling you names.
Perhaps because it takes you a bit longer than others to understand something, but that's completely normal. People are just mean.
"Hey, why don't you compete with her?" suggested one of them.
"Whaaat?. She'd probably get her ass beaten in less than 3 seconds," exclaimed Mai's best friend.
"I think Mai is a formidable opponent; she's brilliant," you responded with a friendly smile, shifting your focus back to your game.
They exchanged glances, attempting to provoke you, but couldn't. Your kindness often shields you, either because you don't fully grasp their intentions to bully you or because you don't take them or their words too seriously. After all, why let someone your age calling you dumb make you feel sad?
However, this is not the case with Gojo Satoru.
You take him way too seriously, hanging on to each word as if it were truth. You know it's his nature to be playful and teasing, but his occasional jokes have a different impact on you. Despite this, you've never dared to confront him. Instead, you've worn a fake smile, blinking away tears. But today was different; it became your breaking point.
Finally, Mai left you alone, granting you some peace to play without disturbance. While others were busy competing and laughing, you didn't notice Gojo standing right behind you. A small mistake slipped into your gameplay, one that could have been easily avoided, but you couldn't help it.
"That was a dumb move, Y/n!" Gojo exclaimed, startling you.
"Huh?"
"That mistake could have been easily avoided, but you had to be dumb as usual" he added, rolling his eyes.
A lump formed in your throat, tears threatening to fall.
"I-I was just—" you stuttered.
"You've gotta practice if you want to be like your friends. I'm not only talking about this game but real life too" he added.
Unable to respond, your eyes remained fixed on the game in front of you. They were red from holding back tears, and you didn't want him to see.
Gojo then stood in the center of the common room and said,
"Hey, guys, listen to this joke. Why did that kind girl try to tell a joke about time travel?" He started , and when they asked why, he said, "Because she thought it was about fixing all her past misunderstandings. Turns out she couldn't grasp the punchline in any timeline."
The room erupted in laughter.
"That was a good one" said one of the students.
You stood there feeling out of place, realizing the joke was about you from the way everyone laughed and pointed.
Overwhelmed, you excused yourself from the crowded room, seeking comfort in the garden. The weight on your chest felt unbearable, and tears were threatening to fall. Gojo, sensed your distress when you left the room, mentally cursed himself, his joke might have gone far. So he decided to follow you.
He found you on the stairs, tears streaming down your face as you gazed at the trees.Concerned, he approached,
"Hey Y/n, are you okay?"
It was time to confront him. Keeping your focus on the trees, your voice cracked as you spoke,
"Why do you always do that? Make fun of me in front of everyone? Is it fair to call me dumb for the slightest mistakes?" Frustration overflowed.
Gojo's playful side vanished, replaced by sincerity and seriousness,
"I never meant to hurt you. I'm sorry if it seemed that way. I didn't realize it was affecting you like this."
Wiping away your tears, you replied,
"Giving no reaction and faking a smile doesn't mean it doesn't affect me. I'm just good at hiding it."
He felt really bad, realizing that he took it too far this time and that his jokes and teasing had been making you sad all the time.
"Why do you even do it?" you asked again.
"I thought it was all good and fun, just like with everyone else. I was trying to lighten the mood. I didn't know it bothered you that much. Sorry about that, princess. I'll make it up to you."
"Nah you don't have to" you resisted,
but he insisted,
"No, I want to." Standing up, he exclaimed, pulling you close.
With his thumbs, he wiped your tears and tucked your hair behind your ears, whispering,
"Let me fix it. I'm sorry for making you feel that way. You're a kind soul. Would you give me a chance?"
You're too kind to turn him down so you nodded.
"come on show me that precious smile of yours here you go princess oh I love that sweet smile I'll make sure it never leaves your face"
To say the least, he made you feel significantly better. His comforting gestures were genuine and sincere. you could feel him pulling you into a warm, big hug.
You're precious to him, and teasing is his way of expressing love.
"You're too good for this world Y/n!!"
He realized that sometimes words even in jest, could cut deeper than intended. He promised to be more careful, acknowledging that people might not see through good intentions, since people can't read minds.
So it's always better to speak something positive or remain silent.
if anyone treats you with disrespect, make sure to defend yourselves pookies. Never let anyone calls you dumb or underestimates you. You're too precious, you're unique, don't let people bring you down! speak up and defend yourselves 🫶🏻💪🏻
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landologs · 1 year
Text
I'll Be Yours If You Want Me
Daniel Ricciardo
Warnings: Age gap of 10 years but it's not weird cause she's 23 so a grown woman!! Smut so 16+. That's all, enjoy!
Word Count: 7.8k (sorry lol)
Description: They've worked together for years, going about their daily routines while ignoring the rising feelings between them. Any time she tries to hint at something more he shuts her down and she's left more confused than when they started. What she doesn't know is just a glance in her direction has him ready to risk it all. But, any time he feels ready to reciprocate her feelings and tell her just how mutual it is, he's reminded that she's just too young for him.
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It was a rainy Saturday when Daniel first noticed her.
The droplets were pelting down onto the paddock as the garage was bustling with life, every single team member getting ready for the qualifying session ahead. Once the cars were out on the track, they could take a moment to breathe, but they were far from relaxed as they all huddled around the screen and watched flashes of orange fly around the track.
There wasn't much for y/n to do when the guys were out on the track, as her job focused more on wrangling Lando to and from his media duties when he got out of the car. So, while the practice session progressed she sat back to enjoy the show and sipped on a warm coffee. A tyre blanket suddenly draped across her lap and she looked up to be met with the pit crew handing them out to everyone that didn't get the luxury of a warm fireproof suit; of course, the camera zoned in on this sweet interaction and had everyone waving and cherishing their split second of fame.
The long hour came to an end and all of a sudden they were hurdling out of the way so the cars could be wheeled into the garage. Y/n was hanging around the entrance waiting for Lando to appear so she could drag him to his post-quali interviews when her colleague appeared instead and pulled her to the side.
"Would it be okay if you accompanied Daniel to his interviews? His PR officer called in sick and Lando is talking to the stewards right now."
Her words flew over y/n's head as she spoke.
"Yeah, that's fine" She smiled.
It was most definitely not fine but her colleague was gone in a split second, hurrying off to manage everyone else in the garage. Y/n stood frozen for a few seconds as she came to terms with what she had agreed to, but before she could begin to seriously panic, there he was in front of her.
Without any exchange of words, Daniel pulled his helmet off and placed it in her hands. She watched as he pulled his balaclava off and tried her utmost to ignore the godly state he held as he wiped the sweat off his face with a towel. Her knees actually became weak as she watched him exist before her, but she did well to hide her embarrassing reaction to him. Somehow she managed to miss the fact that he was staring right back, but when she finally did realise, his chuckle was enough to send her bright red.
In an attempt to gain control of the situation again, she shoved his helmet forward and handed it back to him, he hunched forward as it made contact with his stomach and she couldn't help but crack a small smile.
"Not my job." She said confidently.
He looked her up and down so quickly that she almost missed it, but she clocked the way he took her in, as well as the smirk that came after.
"Where are these interviews then?" He muttered as he handed his helmet off to his assistant and followed y/n in the direction of the media pen.
The first few interviews went quickly and she tried to listen closely as Daniel spoke, ensuring he didn't say anything that the journalists could twist to make him look bad. When working with Lando y/n had never realised how close she had to get to him while recording what he was saying; but in that moment with Daniel, she could hardly concentrate on what was leaving his mouth. The bobbing of his Adam's apple as he spoke and the way his tanned skin looked up close had her silently falling apart, that and the fact that he somehow still smelled good after spending an hour sweating in a car was making her dizzy. She hadn't noticed how good his stubble looked until this point, and his curls...god, what was happening to her?
She was in a daydream until the interviewer turned his attention to her instead.
"Cheating on Lando are we?" He joked at the fact that she wasn't accompanying her usual driver.
"Shhh." She smiled and made a face at the camera that was now pointing in her direction. Daniel caught her by surprise when he spoke in her direction, but who was she trying to kid, she would have been a melting mess anyway.
"Y/n is my media girl now, sorry mate." He joked to the camera and she actually had to hold in her gasp. She had no idea that he knew she existed before today, let alone knew her name. But there they were, being buddies in the media tent. It was embarrassing to admit that he affected her that much but she was hardly holding it together.
That was the first time they properly interacted, and it only got worse from there. If that was an innocent crush, then it had now turned into a completely sinful obsession. A need for him in any and every way.
They interacted a lot more from that point onwards, he acknowledged her during team meetings and spoke to her in the garage, they started to do more media events together and they even texted occasionally.
What she struggled to come to terms with was the fact that he went out of his way to be her friend, to interact with her and occasionally spend time with her; she also couldn't help but feel guilty that she had such explicit thoughts about him when he so clearly just wanted to be her friend.
But, what she didn't know was that he was trying his best not to drag her into an empty driver's room and fuck her better than she's ever had before. What she didn't see was the effect she had on him too, the tensing of his jaw every time she touched his arm, the flutters he felt in his stomach when she laughed at his jokes, how hard he got when she leant close to him to pick up every word he said on the voice recorder. She didn't know how guilty he felt having those feelings about a 23-year-old woman. A woman 10 years his junior whom he could never have in the way he really wanted, someone that he couldn't do like he dreamt about because she had hardly lived yet. He was sure that the last thing she wanted was to sleep around with a guy in his mid-thirties. She was probably far too busy sleeping with underwhelming, overenthusiastic guys who could never worship her body the way she deserved, and it tested his strength every day. Every time he smelt her perfume or watched her lick her lips. Every time he saw her.
The first time they got too close was after a party in Milan, it was hosted by the CEO of Formula 1 and held in a fancy hotel with an even fancier guest list. The evening had been filled with a sit-down dinner and as the hour got later, the guests got fewer and fewer. Eventually, the younger crowd of employees, as well as all of the drivers and their friends ended up in a nightclub in the city, and things quickly got out of hand.
Many drinks were consumed and people got friendlier than they ever had before, y/n ended up spilling most of her relationship secrets with Lando and he did the same, both of them in hysterics at the other's romantic failures. Y/n even ended up being introduced to most of the other drivers by Lando, bar Daniel who she was already pretty friendly with.
"You did what to him?" Lando gasped, a hand running through his hair as he became increasingly stressed from y/n's storytelling.
"He asked me too!" She giggled.
"And he liked that?" He was wide-eyed at that point.
"Yeah..." She lowered the volume of their conversation as they continued to laugh together.
"Well, one time this girl asked me to..." Lando began but was quickly hushed when Daniel, Charles, Carlos and Pierre approached.
"What are we talking about guys?" Charles was curious as they sat down, Daniel scooting y/n and Lando across the sofa so he could fit on the end.
"Oh, nothing important." Y/n quickly saved them from the embarrassment of their tipsy conversation being known by everyone and thankfully they quickly fell onto a different topic. Something about a group holiday, not that y/n was listening as much as she was trying to control herself with Daniel so close.
A while passed, laughter and drinks being shared around the table as everyone became more comfortable with one another, probably due to the presence of alcohol. Eventually, once everyone seemed to be running dry, y/n spoke up.
"Does anyone want another drink?" She asked the small group they were sitting with. A few of them piped up and said they would pay, some even being polite enough to try to give her their cards and cash.
"No! I'll get it. What do you want?" She asked as she stood up and listened carefully to their orders. "Sit!" She tapped Lando on the arm as he tried to follow her out of the booth. In hindsight, she was just being overly polite and could have done with his help, but she wasn't going to be one of those people that sat back and let the fancy f1 driver pay.
She climbed out of her seat as gracefully as she could, awkwardly asking Daniel to move and hearing Lando laughing at her efforts to hold her dress down and not break an ankle simultaneously. She made it to the bar and got a bartender's attention, quickly getting her order in before a huge queue formed behind her.
As she stood and waited for the drinks, the space next to her was filled with a warm presence; she turned to look for who it was and definitely didn't expect to be pressed up against Daniel as he managed to pry his way into the tiny space next to her.
"I thought you'd need some help carrying the drinks." He gave her a sweet smile which she returned and as the bar got busier they seemed to get closer and closer.
At one point, a drink went flying over the people next to them and a tall guy began to push people out of the way, most likely being impatient and wanting his drink that second. Y/n wasn't expecting to feel a pair of warm hands wrap around her waist, and she was caught even more off guard again when Daniel dragged her away from the commotion, his hands wrapping around her tightly as he pulled her into his chest.
It took a moment of thought for her to come to the realisation that he was actually touching her...well, not only touching her but completely engulfing her with his entire body to the point that she swore she could feel his own heartbeat thumping right into her own.
"Thanks." She mumbled quiet enough to have easily been missed by him, but he heard it, gave her another one of his core-melting smiles and rubbed a delicate circle into her forearm with his thumb while they continued to wait for their drinks.
The second time they got too close was during a helicopter ride that y/n somehow managed to weave her way into, and Daniel didn't even realise it had happened.
The vehicle was taking Lando and Daniel from their hotel to a media event because the otherwise 6-hour drive could be cut down to just 2 hours in the aircraft. The rest of the pr team was meeting them there, but of course, y/n got dragged into the helicopter by Lando who was claiming he needed help captioning his Instagram posts that second, and it couldn't be done at a later date.
Unfortunately for her, Lando decided after pressing post he desperately needed a nap, leaving the only person for y/n to talk to being Daniel. Not that she minded, not one bit; the only problem was trying to act cool and collected as she listened to his words and soft laughs as they chatted.
After a while of innocent conversation, it slowly died down; it was the type of situation where you end up so comfortable with a person that silence isn't awkward and the atmosphere is completely calming. Y/n eventually turned her attention to the views that were passing by below them, and slowly felt her eyes become just as heavy as Lando's seemed to be; the constant hum of the helicopter's engine lulled her into a sleepy state in almost no time, the only thing making her hesitate to close her eyes and give in being the stare that was burning into the side of her head, that she knew was coming from Daniel.
She slept for a while, just enough to replenish her energy and not leave her feeling groggy, a power nap if you will. As she awoke she let herself gently come to, keeping her eyes closed as she regained her consciousness properly, but she immediately noticed an unfamiliar feeling on her upper thigh.
A warmth she didn't recognise was engulfing her leg, a squeezing motion made her eyes shoot open so she could understand what it was, and what she was met with was the last thing on her list of answers.
Daniel Ricciardo's hand, his tattooed, veiny, huge, tanned hand was grasping her entire thigh with one palm, squeezing it gently as he peacefully slept next to her, just as she had been doing a moment ago.
The butterflies she felt in her stomach were enough to make her shiver, and to make Daniel stir as he slept and pull his hand away from her leg. The lack of his warmth immediately made her stomach drop and she hated the power his acts had over her, especially when they were so minuscule. What would happen if he hugged her one day? Or, god forbid did anything else. She was sure she would combust on the spot.
The third time they got too close was in the middle of the night when it seemed like not another soul could be awake, and Daniel knew damn well about this one.
This one was a short interaction, but in no way was it insignificant in the development of their sexual tension. It was the week of the Monaco Grand Prix, a warm Wednesday night when y/n found herself tossing and turning in her hotel bed, only a loose t-shirt and a pair of underwear covering her body.
Daniel, on the other hand, found himself sitting on the balcony of his luxe Monaco apartment, a small glass of red wine in his hand and looming anxiety about not getting enough sleep in preparation for the race in his head. It seemed like nothing could help him get his mind off his anxious feelings, his leg bouncing so much it almost spilt the wine right from his glass before he decided he needed to do something about it.
After racking his brain for a while, the best solution he could come up with was to text a friend, but he knew too well that Micheal would be sound asleep so that he was ready for their 6am training session the coming morning. Lando wasn't close enough to him for 1am texts yet, and all of his family in Australia were sure to be well into their busy days at work.
With no one coming to mind he huffed and left his spot on the clammy balcony, sighing in relief when his high-end aircon system blessed him with cool air. He finished the last mouthful of wine and went into his bathroom to brush the red stains away before going back to bed, but something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye and reminded him of just the person he could text to get rid of the sickly feeling in his chest.
It was a chapstick sitting on his sink, left behind by one of his meaningless hookups, not that it was recent because every time he had sex now he found himself thinking of only one person, and he couldn't go there. So he had simply stopped for the time being in hopes of those lingering thoughts going away.
The thought of y/n and how she was constantly applying some sort of clear lip product in a small tube came to his mind, and then his thoughts went to how she spent the day licking it off and what feelings it invoked in him.
It had worked though, replacing the anxiousness he was once feeling with r rated thoughts he didn't want to admit he was having.
Trying to stop his mind from going places he knew it shouldn't, he grabbed his phone and pulled up her contact that he had only recently gotten; rather proud of himself at how he had smoothly asked her for it too.
He started the conversation in the least thirsty way he could, considering it was one in the morning and people usually only texted for a specific reason at that time.
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Y/n placed her phone down with a chuckle, laughing at the reaction Daniel had to her joke. As she rolled over and tried to focus on getting some sleep, she felt the butterflies dancing in her stomach from the sweet conversation they had just had, but her smile was quickly wiped as she remembered what she had agreed to do at 6am tomorrow morning.
And that was the last innocent interaction they ever had. Y/n noticed that something had changed within Daniel from that point on and she was right. It was getting harder and harder for him to hold his feelings back; when he saw her, he wanted to bend her over and give her everything he suspected she dreamt about, and that she did.
The dreams about him started quickly after they started texting, but they weren't just any dreams, they were ones so explicit that they had her waking up in the middle of the night and reaching into her bedside drawer to find her trusted battery-powered friend.
Anytime Daniel saw her in the garage he had to physically remove himself from her proximity because everything she did turned him on, and having a hard-on in a race suit was way too obvious. When he wasn't able to get away from her, which was most of the time, he had to deal with it by putting on a fake smile and trying not to make her do anything that would send him over the edge, like a laugh, or have her touch his arm, or hear her voice, or have her stand close enough to him so that he could smell her perfume. So you can understand his situation.
The quarterly yacht party rolled around and it was just y/n's luck that Daniel was the host this time; the parties were always sophisticated and heaps of fun, but when Daniel was running them they were just that extra bit special, apparently. She wouldn't know because she had never actually been invited to one before she got the hots for the McLaren driver, and only knew about them because they were something that always got media coverage.
As her private car, organised by none other than Daniel himself, pulled up in the Monaco harbour her hands began to shake. She tried to tame them by smoothing the silky fabric of her dress and it seemed to help for a moment until the car stopped and a random man in a suit opened the door for her to exit.
She found herself meandering around the boat, greeting people she had seen at the track but who probably didn't know who she was. After some time spent doing nothing in particular, she was offered a glass of rosé by a suited waiter, which she gladly accepted and her nerves seemed to settle just a little bit.
She ended up surprised at how fun the night really was, she was able to converse with Daniel without feeling like combusting, but she did still want to rip his colourful shirt from his body and lick his...
Everything seemed to be going great until Lando spilt his drink all over y/n; although her dress was black, the silk fabric drank up the liquid and it looked like she had pissed herself. She stood paused in shock at the situation, and the sensation of the cold liquid spilling onto her cleavage only made it worse as her nipples hardened and she had to cross her arms over her chest so that half of the party didn't see her perked up tits.
"I'm so sorry," Lando expressed as he frantically tried to find something to cover her with, dry her with, he didn't know he just needed to do something to make himself feel less guilty.
It seemed almost predictable that Daniel came along to save the day, like in a movie scene; there he was with a tea towel in hand ready to help her. He gently shoved past the few people that had seen what happened and without any hesitation, lead y/n to the back of the boat where a set of stairs led to the lower deck.
His bedroom was something she never thought she'd see, but there she was sitting on the end of his king mattress, watching him fumble through his wardrobe to find something she could cover herself with instead of her ruined dress.
Her cold hands danced across the fabric as she looked at how soiled her dress was, realising that the silk couldn't be saved from the damage it had endured. With a sigh, she stood and wandered into the en-suite, grabbing a cloth and wetting it so she could wipe the sticky alcohol off her chest.
"You okay in there?" Daniel's soft voice travelled through the thick door and she opened it to be met with his concerned eyes looking down at her.
"Yeah." She said flatly as she accepted the shirt he handed to her, looking at it for a moment and trying to figure out how she was going to pull off wearing one of Daniel's party shirts as a dress.
"You sure?" He sounded more concerned at her flat tone, his fingers delicately grabbing her chin and tilting her head upwards so her gaze met his. As their eyes met, he withdrew his hand and somehow y/n was able to hold eye contact with him for longer than 3 seconds.
"Yeah, it's just a bummer that my dress is ruined."
"Don't worry about that," He began, taking the shirt from her hands and unbuttoning the first few buttons so she could slip it over her head when she was ready. "I'll get you another one."
"I don't need your charity." She wasn't sure why she became defensive, snatching the shirt back from him and closing him out of the bathroom so she could change.
She heard the door shuffle slightly and recognised it as Daniel leaning against the other side.
"Well, you gladly accepted my shirt, is that not charity?." He teased, trying to get a rise from her.
"Trust me, if you didn't have such fancy guests then I'd leave this yacht naked." She replied so quickly he hardly had a moment to listen to what she said, his only response being a deep chuckle that made her core twitch with a feeling she most definitely recognised, even if she didn't want to admit it.
She swung the door open, making him stumble into the bathroom.
"You can't replace it anyway, it's a limited edition." She threw the dress onto the countertop in front of her and focused on fixing her hair and trying to position the shirt so that it looked somewhat decent. She wasn't sure what made the pang in her chest begin, why her eyes suddenly started watering, but as she looked back at herself she started to cry.
Maybe it was her ridiculous reflection, a shirt far too big hanging off her frame and making her look like a clown. She couldn't pull off the party shirts like Daniel could, apparently. Quickly wiping the water running down her cheeks, embarrassed at her childish reaction to the situation, she tried to fix her makeup and get over herself.
"I'll buy you a different one then." Daniel stepped forward and she turned to face him, inhaling sharply as he gently grasped her waist and pulled her closer. "I'll buy you a hundred as long as you don't cry." His rough thumb ran across her cheek, rubbing the smudged mascara from under her eye as she pathetically sniffled below him.
"I said I don't need your charity," She huffed, trying to push him away but was met with a tighter grip than he previously held on her.
"If anything you'd be doing it for me." He began, moving his hand from her cheek to the side of her neck and grasping her gently, rubbing his thumb on her cheek as he looked deeply into her eyes.
"What I'd do if I saw you in something I paid for...my money covering your skin." He tilted her head back so she looked right up at him, and she clenched her thighs together to try and stop the heat in her stomach from spreading to her crotch. "It's already hard enough for me to keep my hands off you now." He finished.
"What?" She mumbled, not quite sure if she was dreaming or if Daniel's words were actually leaving his mouth.
"I see how you look at me, what my presence does to you." He ran his free hand down to the small of her back and pressed her body closer to his. "What you don't know is what you do to me." He spoke and she could feel his length pressing against her thigh, straining against the fabric of his black jeans.
"Don't tease." She sighed and his smirk only got bigger; looking into his eyes, she saw how they were glazed over, his eyelids slightly heavier than she was used to seeing them, and her stomach dropped.
There was no way she was imagining this now, she could feel his hands on her waist, feel him on her thigh; she could see the effect she was having on him right in front of her eyes, and she realised they were more alike than she originally thought.
The gap between them closed when she went on her tiptoes, pulling him down towards her by his shoulders and connecting her lips with his. It seemed like he wasn't expecting her confidence because he hesitated for a moment, but he finally began to kiss her back and relief spread through her body.
Daniel quickly took charge and cleared a space on the counter with a swipe of his arm, then swiftly lifted y/n onto it and wrapped her legs around his waist. His warm palms ran along her thighs as she squeezed him closer to her, and he groaned in response to her enthusiasm.
Y/n had never experienced anything like this, or more accurately someone like this, as experienced as Daniel. The way his lips moved was perfect, going in the right direction every single time. And his tongue? God. She had imagined what it would feel like on plenty of lonely nights but the real thing was so much better even when it was only in her mouth.
The passion that seeped from them filled the room, hardly leaving any space for them to catch their breaths, so they simply didn't. Minutes passed and the sound of quiet groans and rolling tongues passed between them as they indulged in each other. That was until Daniel broke free and brought both of his hands to y/n's face, tucking her loose hair behind her ears and rubbing his thumbs across her cheeks.
She whined at the loss of contact, her swollen bottom lip pulling between her teeth as she tried to get close to him again, but he stopped her by softly holding her face.
"Wait," He whispered and she listened carefully, searching his eyes to try and catch a glimpse of what he was feeling. But he continued with "wait" and "wait," again, and it seemed like he was talking to himself instead of her.
"I am." She whispered back, running her nails across the nape of his neck, feeling him shiver against her as he groaned at her touch.
"We can't." He said lowly and let out another sigh.
"What?"
"We can't do this y/n." He pulled away from her now
"Why not?" She complained.
"Because."
"That's not an answer."
"Because you're too young." He ran a distressed hand over his stubble, which had previously left a small rash on y/n's skin when they were kissing.
"I'm a grown woman." She stood up from the counter.
"You're 23."
"Exactly. I'm an adult." She huffed as he looked down at her. "Do you not like me? Because that's fine..."
He chuckled at her words. "I really fucking like you, that's the problem." He said.
"Then fuck me." She tiptoed to try and gain his attention, bringing her hands to his face and making him look her in the eyes.
"Don't y/n..."
"Why?" She whined and saw how Daniel grit his teeth as she ran her hands down his chest and tugged on his shirt.
"You're too young, I can't fuck a girl 10 years younger than me, no matter how much I might want to." His eyes flicked down to look at her lips so she wet them with her tongue, and he felt his heart and his dick jump at the same time.
"Who says?"
"I do." He tried to finish the conversation by stepping back from her, but she linked her hands with his and pulled him close again.
"We're both adults. I want you, Daniel." She sighed and he said nothing.
"I've wanted you for so long." She made him look at her. "Please."
"Y/n, you have no idea how much I wanna bend you over this countertop right fucking now, but I can't." He sighed and ran his hand over his face again. "Not only are you too young, but we work together. I already get a boner every time I see you so imagine what it would be like if we went through with this."
"It would be really fucking good." She was almost begging him now, because she knew he wanted this too, he had admitted it.
"I know, but we can't." He finally stepped away from her and out of the bathroom. "You can stay in here if you want, the party won't go on for much longer." He seemed to be suggesting that she stayed locked in his room while everyone had fun, and if she wasn't already frustrated enough, that sent her over the edge.
She stormed past him and began rummaging through his drawers, a rather rude gesture that she wouldn't usually do, but she needed a belt if she was going to keep partying and show him what he had really just passed up on.
At last, she found one with a huge shiny buckle. Ric3 Rodeo was engraved on it and it made her chuckle, of course, Daniel wore his own merch. She slung it around her waist and tightened it, pulling the shirt over it so it bunched around her waist and looked a bit more styled, then gently pushed past Daniel and reached for the door handle.
"I'll see you at work." She hummed, acting as though the events that had just unfolded hadn't affected her at all.
She swung the door open and began to make her way upstairs, ready to rejoin the party when she bumped into a tipsy Lando.
"Looking good, y/n" He complimented her shirt but it only made her roll her eyes as it reminded her whose clothes she was wearing. "You're giving Daniel a run for his money," Lando smirked and twirled her around on the spot, making her crack a smile as her friend joked with her and then dragged her back to the bar.
That was the last time they talked for a few days, with a two-week break until the next race Daniel had plenty of time off to think about what a stupid decision it had been to turn her down. He let himself get into his head and overthink his decision when in reality y/n had been right. She was a grown woman, who had clearly had a lot of sex before, it wasn't like he was taking her virginity and exploiting her, she was 23 for god sake. He should have just fucked her like she had begged him to.
Y/n had stupidly organised to stay in Monaco for the rest of the week, to do some 'sightseeing' with a couple work friends. Of course, the only place where she wanted to stay and be a tourist was the place Daniel happened to live, so every time she walked past the harbour or saw a woman in a silk dress, or saw a damn McLaren for that matter, she found her heartbeat quickening and her mind wandering back to that night when Daniel had her pinned on the counter of his yacht's bathroom.
Damn her for being born in 1999.
A boring morning in her hotel room had her scrolling endlessly on her phone, she even opened her texts and found herself scrolling and re-reading her conversations with Daniel like a foolish teenager. Ashamed of herself for not being able to get him out of her head, she decided a cold shower would do her best.
But, of course, it couldn't be that easy. While the chilled water was running over her soft skin, she couldn't help but let her hands wander. Once she had finished her cold shower that had unexpectedly turned into a steamy one, the only thing on her mind was Daniel and how she was going to get his attention to show him she was a grown woman; show him that she could handle him and whatever he thought he needed to hold back from her.
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She chewed her thumb as she read his response, her stomach starting to flip with anticipation because she was honestly expecting him to leave her on delivered. But a lingering feeling had her thinking he would like it, and his last text seemed to prove her theory.
She had changed into a pretty set of lingerie and a t-shirt after her texts with Daniel just in case he decided to stop by. And, luckily for her, a knock on her hotel door came no more than fifteen minutes later, and it made her jump out of her skin.
She stood in silence for a moment, thinking perhaps she had imagined the sound, but when another knock came swiftly, louder this time, she knew it was him.
As she peeled the door open she expected to have a conversation with him, maybe exchange a few words at least; but instead, he stormed right through the doorway and scooped her up into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist as he smashed his lips onto hers. His stubble scraped her skin but she moaned from the harsh contact, and from the hardness pressing into her that was already formed in his trousers, probably from his drive over.
"Daniel..." She moaned against his lips but that only ushered him on more, moving his kisses onto her neck so that she could speak if she wanted to.
"Hmm?" He grumbled against her skin and placed her down on the bed, crawling on top of her and settling between her legs, running his lips and teeth along her neck as she tried to articulate herself.
"I thought you didn't want to?" Y/n was breathless, hardly focused on what she was saying and instead fixated on watching him lift her shirt and kiss her body.
He paused when he saw the underwear she was wearing, clearly for him; a lustful smirk on his plump lips as he looked into her eyes again.
"I don't know what I've been waiting for." He hardly finished his sentence before y/n dragged him back down on top of her and shoved her tongue into his mouth, which he gladly reciprocated.
They shared some short kisses before Daniel made his way back down her body and left soft pecks, bites and licks on her torsi. He made his way back to her pink bra and mumbled some sweet compliments to her that made her blush before pulling her boobs out of the cups and attaching to them with his mouth.
He swirled his tongue around one of her nipples, and then met the other one with the same treatment, leaving y/n a sighing mess from his light touches. She became impatient with his slow pace so she started to grab at the hem of his t-shirt.
"Off." She mumbled and he sat up from his position lying on top of her and swatted her hands away to replace them with his own. Sitting back on his heels, he peeled his shirt up his body at an irritatingly slow pace, letting y/n see every muscle in his toned abdomen flex as his arms lifted above his head and the thin fabric was tossed somewhere into the room.
Y/n took this as her opportunity to remove her own shirt and flick that across the other side of the bed, looking back to see him unbuttoning his jeans and finally freeing his hard dick from the tight fabric. He shimmied out of his black jeans and the tent in his underwear was bigger than she expected.
Daniel ground his hips against hers as they continued to swallow one another, and then he rolled them over and held her tightly on his lap; she swore it was getting bigger by the minute, especially when she began rolling her hips back and forth and she could feel its size, their underwear creating more friction than they both wished for.
Y/n moved her hands to free herself from her bra, throwing it onto the pillow next to Daniel's pretty face, earning a laugh from him and breaking the serious tension for a moment as they looked at one another.
Y/n rolled her hips back and forth a few more times until Daniel became impatient and sat up, flipped her onto her back and moved back onto his knees; he peeled the pink lace from her lower half and placed them carefully on the bedside table, which she thought odd compared to his lack of care with all of their other clothing.
He quickly brought her out of her thoughts when he lay on his front to start kissing up her thighs, leaving little red marks and nibbling some of the softest places on her inner leg as he made his way towards the place she wanted him most.
"Don't tease." She begged but the only response she received was a deceitful chuckle from Daniel as he peppered kisses on her outer folds. He gave them more slickness than they already had as he licked them, then finally pulled back and let some spit fall from his mouth onto her slit as he looked into her eyes.
She seemed especially receptive to this as he watched her hips shift under him, trying to bring his face closer to her centre all while he refused to make direct contact with her most sensitive piece.
"Please."' She almost cried and something in his heart fluttered for her.
"Alright baby." He decided the teasing was enough and finally lowered his head and licked a strip up her middle, making her back arch and a muffled groan hitch in her throat.
Another lick and another, and another came before he took her bud in his mouth, swirling his tongue over it and around it, then taking it in his mouth to suck on it gently. Her legs shook ever so slightly as he worked on her, every flick of his tongue making her jolt and jump until he had her begging him for something, anything.
"Yes, more! Please..." She sighed, out of breath from doing nothing, but so much at the same time; her core clenched and her hips shifted involuntarily every time he made a move on her pussy and it was starting to take a toll on her.
"I'm so close, Daniel." Her words came as a shock to him, not expecting his job to be so easy; yet the feeling came as a shock to her too, not expecting to be plummeting towards an orgasm after only a few minutes.
"Yeah?" He asked.
"Mhm." She nodded and was met with a sweet smile from Daniel as he continued to lick between her legs until she was shaking and grabbing at his hair, and plummeting over the theoretical cliff, even if it left like a real one.
"That was easy." He chuckled and hardly gave her a second to catch her breath before he pulled her up so they were both kneeling on the bed facing one another.
He placed a soft, longing kiss on her lips, which slowly developed into a more assertive one as she regained her breath and sensation in her clit. Daniel's hands began to wander across her body again, one finding her ass which he harshly slapped and the other finding her throat where he gently squeezed. Another quiet moan left y/n's mouth, which had Daniel smirking against her lips as he flipped her around to face away from him.
"You ready for this cock, sweetheart?"
"Yes please," She was breathless but more ready than she had ever been for anything in her life; her hands found his thighs and ran along them as he teased her clit with his hardness, before finally pushing into her and letting her adjust to how he felt.
His thrusts were slow and sweet at first, and her moans were quiet and breathless, but as she got used to his size and his cock became slick with her wetness he sped up; his hips snapped back and forth into her and she grabbed at the covers, his shoulders, his hair, almost anything she could reach.
"You like that?" His voice dripped with lust as he checked in with her but she could hardly speak, only moaning and scraping his thighs with her nails in response. Daniel hooked his hands around her arms and pinned them behind her, ploughing deeper into her in response to her harsh scrapes, which pulled even louder gasps and moans from her lips.
"Good girl," He whispered into her ear and nibbled on it as he pulled his hips out of her and slammed them in again, one of his hands reaching around her front and finding her swollen clit to play with.
Her back arched and pushed her ass further into him, which he responded to with a harsh slap, leaving a pink handprint on her cheek.
"Fuck," He groaned as his head tilted back, his toned neck flexing and throat bobbing as he breathed deeply, trying to control his pleasure and last long enough to make her cum again. "If I knew you'd feel like this I would have fucked you a long time ago." He looked forward again and murmured in her ear, making her smile.
"You should have." She responded sarcastically and he chuckled, bringing his hand to her throat again and squeezing her jaw gently.
He moved her face to the left slightly and fixed her view on a mirror on the other side of the room, where there was a perfect view of them fucking. She could see his smile as he ran his hands up her torso and brought his fingers to her nipples, pinching them and pulling another loud moan from her lips.
He brought his hands to her back and bent her over onto her front, making sure she could still see the view in the mirror. The sight of him almost made her come then and there, his abs flexing every time he thrust into her, sweat glistening across his chest, his tattoos dancing on his skin.
She didn't want to admit it but she was so fucked, he was gonna take over her life and she knew it.
This new angle had him hitting her g-spot with every jolt of his hips, and he could tell as she tried to pull away from him slightly from the overpowering sensation, so he began to slow his pace down and focus on long, deep thrusts instead, and it had her falling apart.
He grabbed a fistful of her hair, tugging gently on it and turning her head to the side so he could hear the sounds he was pulling from her; his other hand pushed past the soft skin of her lower belly and found her clit again, circling it gently but consistently until he felt her start to shake again.
"You gonna come for me, darling?" He circled his fingers faster in response to the way her body was moving.
"Yes, just keep fucking doing that." She begged, her arms stretching out in front of her as she raised herself off the bed slightly to get a better view of Daniel in the mirror.
He flashed her a bright smile, his tongue wetting his lips before he pulled his bottom one in between his teeth, and then he let his gaze fall back down to where they were attached, the view of him sliding in and out of her just too good to miss, especially as she came.
He could see her physically twitching as her orgasm passed over her, and he could feel it too; how she clenched around him was enough to make him cum as well, so he gently pulled out of her and spilt himself on her lower back.
Daniel lay down next to her while they caught their breaths, panting in sync; she grabbed at him and pulled him closer to her, leaning her head on his shoulder and rubbing soft circles on his chest with her eyes gently closed.
"That was really good." She opened her eyes and looked up at him.
"Yeah, it was." He agreed, tucking her loose hair behind her ear. "You want to go for some lunch?" He asked, brushing the end of her nose with his finger as a smile broke out on her face.
"I'd love to."
"Good, let's have a shower."
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Gif creds to mistressemmedi ^
Guys sorry. I don't actually think this is that good lol. But it took ages and ppl are waiting for it so here you are <3 I hope I'm just overthinking cause I've re-read this like 6 times while editing it lmao. But yeah, I think this would have been better as a series where I could drag out their interactions more and emphasise their sexual tension, but I can't commit to that rn so here we are. :)
3K notes · View notes
tokyoyumeeee · 1 year
Text
                    Stitch you up…put you together…
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featuring: dottore, scaramouche, tighnari
tags- yandere theme(stalking, murder, kidnapping), dr*g usage(during tighnari and dottore’s part), slight nsfw, reader’s gender not specified
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IL DOTTORE the doctor had been eyeing you for some time or rather stalking you would be a better way to put it. his fixation with you started when you gave him a report concerning the balladeer’s whereabouts. it was the first time he’d ever met you. during your report, he couldn’t help but focus on how your uniform framed your figure perfectly, how soothing your voice sounded, and how you would nibble on your lower lip every time you weren’t sure of something. it was all too fucking adorable. you were stronger and more addicting than any drug he’d ever used. 
soon enough, watching, admiring, and stalking you, became a permanent part of his routine. even when he wasn’t physically around you, you still ran through his mind. late nights for dottore would include either continuing his experiments or jerking off to a polaroid of you. a polaroid of you fully nude, with every inch of your body exposed. how did he get that you ask? well during the ungodly amount of times he had stalked you, he managed to snap a quick photo of you while you were changing.
sometimes you would be all he could think of and it would hinder his progress in experiments. he would also think of you during the long, boring fatui meetings that would drag out for hours on end. thinking of your pretty face struggling to take his cock was much more interesting than listening to pierro’s voice drag on about gnoses.  Whether or not you were aware of it, you were his, just as much as he was yours.  TIGHNARI ahh, forest watcher tighnari’s precious assistant. you were oblivious to how tighnari felt about you. you thought that his overprotective, jealous, and caring demeanor was how he showed his care for you. you were right, but you didn’t know that you cared for him that much... some random lowlife forest ranger flirting with you? suddenly, they’ve digested a poisonous mushroom that just so happened to be in their food. some scholar making you uncomfortable? no problem, various drugs, toxins, and concoctions have been injected into them.  you didn’t understand why everyone around you was slowly disappearing. you felt so alone. you felt as if you’d done something wrong. don’t even worry. tighnari is there to reassure you that everyone around you didn’t deserve you and that’s why they “left”. the only person you knew who hadn’t left, was the optimistic, leafy-haired, forest ranger, collei. however, there was no way collei could be optimistic about the situation when people were dying left and right. 
she knew of tighnari’s feelings for you. it was pretty obvious. she didn’t know that it would’ve extended this far though...
when she had finally made an attempt at telling you to run away from avidya forest, she quickly disappeared too. the only difference this time was that you saw. you saw tighnari slip arsenic and poisonous mushrooms into collei’s medication. 
you just didn’t understand...he was doing this all for you... SCARAMOUCHE you can’t escape him. you know that he went everywhere you went. every moment of your life was lived in fear. not fear for yourself, but fear for the others around you.  he wouldn’t even bother hiding his murderous tendencies from you. in fact, he would force you to watch as he brutally murdered those he saw as threats to his future with you.  following you wasn’t enough for scaramouche though. he wanted to keep you near him all the time. no...he needed you near him all the time. every fiber of his being yearned for you. every inch of you. he wanted all of it on him. he wanted to feel you at all times. whether it be your body or just your presence. he wanted nothing more than to just feel his cock inside of you. he wanted to make you squirm. he wanted to see you cry and struggle. kidnapping you was like taking candy from a baby. you were so weakened and demoralized by everything around you. you could barely eat, sleep, or drink properly, so naturally, your body was sickly. you couldn’t fight back either. not just because you didn’t have the strength of the energy to, but also because you didn’t see a point in it. 
he would always have his way in the end. and most definitely when it came to you.
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valorant-drabbles · 4 months
Note
Hallo! I'm the one who requested the iso x reader from last time (^v^)
I was wondering if you could make a part two showing how they slowly progressed with each other if it's alright since I really loved the first part and I'm brain rotting hard about Iso
PS - I'll go by ♠️spade anon from now on
Not me accidentally creating a multi-part slow burn Iso fic!! Oh boy
Could be seen as platonic or romantic… but if people want a part 3, it’ll definitely be more romantic.
Gender neutral reader!
Word Count: 1.5k
Warnings: Mild Cursing, Spoiler for Part 1 of this fic
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Cold Shoulder
Reader x Iso
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |
It had been about three weeks since the incident; since you and Iso had your little quarrel, and inevitably having started to understand one another. It was definitely a challenge for you, since you’d struggled for years when it came to getting along with people outside of work hours. Thankfully, Iso was proving to be extremely patient and courteous towards you and your growth. That wasn’t to say he didn’t get irritated every so often if he noticed you slipping back into your old, cold habits…
But you were making a genuine effort. What more could he ask for?
Despite it only having been a few weeks, you and Iso had started getting along quite quickly. He’d made it clear that you were always welcome to join him if you were feeling lonely- and considering your friend quantity in the Protocol was quite low, you were finding yourself ‘lonely’ often. It was strange- last month, you were completely fine being on your own. And now, if you went a few days without a casual conversation with somebody… you felt an odd emptiness inside your chest. A yearning for connection that you’d thought you’d severed long ago.
There were many days where Iso would return to his room after training to find you sat on his bed, listening to the playlist he’d shared with you. Usually you were reading, or watching movies on your laptop… passing the time until he’d return and possibly join you. Iso knew you had a bit of trouble asking to spend time together, so when you were in his room- it was kind of obvious why you were there. Once he’d shower and change clothes, he’d settle into bed and join you in whatever you were doing.
Overtime, this became routine. On days neither of you had a mission, you’d spend time together in the comfort of Iso’s room… quietly bonding, occasionally starting conversations- though usually it was Iso initiating. After all, even after all this time, he still found you to be absolutely fascinating, and desired to learn more about you.
“What do you think we learn from fighting ourselves?” Iso’s voice cut through the current silence filling the bedroom, causing you to look up from your book, eyebrow raised curiously at the sudden query.
“… what?”
“Ah- sorry. That came from nowhere.” Iso apologized quietly, his gaze sheepishly moving away from where you were watching him. “I was just… thinking about our mirror selves. From Omega Earth. How they look and act almost exactly like us- and our teammates as well.”
“Mhm. What about them, though?” You questioned further, noticing Iso shift in his seat.
“I’ve… had this question on my mind ever since I saw myself on the other team. ‘What do we learn from fighting ourselves?’… I’ve asked a few of the others, but… honestly, none of them had an answer I was looking for.” Iso grimaced softly at the memory of him asking Phoenix this question, only for the Brit to cockily answer ‘How much better I am compared to that fake me!’.
You took a moment to ponder his question. This was something you genuinely appreciated about spending time with Iso- he posed questions that made you think. Nothing too philosophical, usually… but it kept conversations interesting, and additionally helped the two of you learn more about how the other thinks.
“I guess… we learn our weaknesses.” You answer after about a minute of silence. “Though it’s not ideal… there’s certain circumstances where our double will be better than us at something. It’ll reveal a weak point in our abilities… and give us something to work towards improving. Alternatively, we learn the weakness of our double, and how to potentially exploit it if need be.” Your shoulders shrugged slightly, as you bit gently at the end of the pen in your hand. “It can also help us to… uh…”
Your hesitance to speak further piques Iso’s curiosity, and his gaze moves to you. He can’t help but notice your cheeks glowing a faint shade of red. You seldom showed emotion like this… allowing yourself to be embarrassed or even revealing a moment of weakness. Despite his desire to urge you into finishing your thought, he knew pushing you to answer would just make you uncomfortable. And, there was the possibility it could cause you to throw out your walls again, giving him the cold shoulder again- he couldn’t risk that. So, he waited.
As much as you wanted to change the topic or just… leave the thought unfinished, Iso’s eyes on you made it clear that he really wanted to know what you were thinking.
“Y/N?” Iso called out quietly. A sigh escaped you reluctantly, as you turned your body to face away from him slightly- only so that he would have trouble seeing how flushed your face had become.
“It… it also helps us to… see what we couldn’t see before. In our own teammates.” You finally continue, deciding to occupy your twitching hands with twirling your pen between your fingers. “How much our team would do to… to protect us. In the face of danger. The threat of death is always so real when you know the enemy won’t hesitate to kill you… sometimes you forget how dangerous it can be. How quickly you can lose somebody. And… how… if a teammate dies, you might go about the rest of your life… regretting that you never got to know them better. Or you might die with the same regret…” You swallow.
You thought back on the day you nearly died at Pearl almost every day. It all felt so surreal… the rush of emotion you felt when you saw Iso in danger? The searing pain from the bullets that had pierced your body?… the last thing you see being Iso using your Operator to take down the approaching threats…
His words echoing constantly in your mind.
“Don’t you dare die on me, Y/N.”
You’d always been so cold towards him… never giving him any reason to like your company. And yet… Iso risked his own life to save yours. With no hesitation.
“Y/N.” It was only after feeling Iso’s hand on your own that you realized he’d been calling your name. His voice was gentle, worry lacing the elegance he spoke your name with. His gaze on you was equally as concerned. It was only in that moment, seeing your own reflection in his eyes, where you notice you’d started crying.
“Shit.” You pull your hand away from Iso’s, and quickly moved to wipe your face of any tears that may had fallen. This was… new. You never let such fragile emotions show in front of the other agents… you only ever let out your piled up emotions behind closed doors, where nobody could see. Where nobody could know. “Sorry, I don’t… know why I’m crying. Can you just forget I said any of that?” You requested, though your voice wavered as you spoke, making you cringe internally. Were you truly so emotional when you thought back on that day…?
Without another word, you found yourself being pulled into Iso’s lap, his arms wrapped around you comfortingly, yet not intrusively. Physical contact wasn’t something you were used to either, but… in that moment? It felt… incredible. You needed this… so badly. For how long you’d needed it for, you didn’t know. You just knew you never wanted this moment to end- as soft as that sounded.
“I’m… not going to let either of us die with that regret.” Iso promised ever so softly, with his head resting comfortably against your shoulder. “And believe me, I don’t intend on dying anytime soon. So you don’t have to worry to much about missed opportunities to… get to know each other. And stuff.”
You kept your face hidden away from Iso; thankful he wasn’t making an effort to look regardless. You felt incredibly vulnerable in that moment… so you truly appreciated that Iso was making the effort to give you some level of privacy. At least as you attempted to pull yourself together again.
“I… I’m glad that… you didn’t give up on me.” You mumble gently against his chest. “… even though I was kind of an asshole to you.”
“Oh, no. You were a total asshole.” Iso chimed. You could just hear the grin on his face through his voice. It made you want to strangle him… not to death, per se.
“… besides. There’s no way I’d give up on someone as… incredible as you.”
Iso’s hand managed to find yours once again, and slowly, gently, you found your fingers intertwining with his without even thinking about it. The previously jarring silence in the room had been replaced with an air of comfortable quiet, as the two of you sat in each other’s company.
You never thought you’d have this thought towards another agent… but…
You really did enjoy Iso’s company. To what extent?… You were unsure.
Yet you enjoyed it regardless.
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freckled-koi · 5 months
Text
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒂𝒓
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summary: you've known gojo since your training days at jujutsu tech. you were inseparable - as thick as thieves. so, what happened?
pairing: satoru gojo x reader (feat. nanami x reader).
cw: angst, emotional manipulation / mental spiral, mature themes. 18+ / minors dni.
wc: 3k+.
a/n: this is just the first chapter, but i wanted to give some fair warning for content!! this is also my first jjk fanfic i'm steadily working on, so tread lightly.
( ◡ ◡ ♪ ) 。
you can also read here on fanfiction.net!
001.
The lone cigarette hangs over your tiers loosely, mindlessly staring off into space. You were pondering a thought for a moment, but you couldn’t bring yourself back to whatever it was that made you zone out. Your arms cross just below your chest, leaning into the brick of the office building. The ash at the end of the cigarette was progressively increasing the more you became idle.
What was it that you were thinking about?
“He’s not back yet?”
The lowly registered voice breaks your subconscious fixation on whatever it was far into the distance, eyes now flitting up to the taller, blonde haired man that appears adjacent to you. You purse your lips together, lithe fingers reaching up to remove the cigarette from your lips to tap the excess of ash after realizing just how much of it there was. 
“Of course not.” You respond with a hint of annoyance in your tone when you remember what you were thinking about – or who, for that matter. 
Satoru Gojo.
He was off completing another assignment – one that he completely dismissed the offering of help from the other known sorcerers in the branch – even though Ijichi insisted on following along after as a support system. And he hadn’t returned yet. It wasn’t out of Gojo’s character to do such a thing, so when you hear him complaining outside of your office audibly to ‘taking on the job himself’, it doesn’t come as a surprise.
That doesn’t mean it never brought a tinge of annoyance every time he was performatively cocky.
And not only that, this had become something of a recurrence. He was gone for far longer than he needed to be today, though.
A similar sigh of annoyance expels from the man, fixing the ocular frames along his face that you always found so oddly shaped. You can’t help the amused smile tugging at the corner of your lips to his reaction, taking a slow drag from the cigarette only to exhale a short laugh of cloud.
“Kento.. You can’t be surprised by that, you know,” You comment in a murmur, allowing your arm to hang off the one bent under your bosom as your gaze now settles on the other. 
His features were stoic, the strain of his work days idle on his features, but the way he carried himself was far from exhausted through his built, taller stature. You can see the shimmer in the glass of his frame when his head tilts towards you, offering him a raise of your brows. 
“He’s too arrogant.”
“Again, not surprising.”
There’s a growing silence between the two of you. This conversation was becoming a common one, Nanami somehow finding you outside more and more with the same pack of cigarettes in your hold; same position; same time and place. It was almost as if it was a routine.
“.. Have you spoken to him at all?” He asks, and you don’t know if it’s out of curiosity or of concern.
It’s only then that you ponder a response after a moment of trying to recall the last conversation you had with Gojo.
He had been brushing you off every time he caught your glance in the office, every time you walked past each other with a few centimeters of distance between you in passing. Granted, the last time you were even in the same vicinity as Gojo, it wasn’t pleasant and all you wanted was to block it out of your memory for as long as you could. It was only a couple months ago, but it was still fresh on replay in your mind.
Nanami inquires about Gojo everytime he finds you outside. The history between Gojo and yourself wasn’t that too farfetched to understand – all of them having been in the same technical school, gone through the same training, known each other for what seemed like years. You knew Gojo best, even with how closed off he seemed to other people, but you were someone that saw through his bullshit a lot more than just surface level to anyone else who would just brush it off as him being consumed by narcissism.
“Y/N,” Nanami says with a weight that’s delicate even with how deep his tone was, breaking you away from your trailing thoughts that cause your gaze to travel once more, looking back at him. 
He holds your gaze with a hesitance, hands neatly tucked into the pockets of his trousers just as he expels a breath through his nostrils, still waiting on an answer that he knew was the same.
“You know him, Kento, he always comes back.”
You see a small sense of tension release Nanami’s shoulders by your words, and that’s enough for him to not press forward. It’s almost peculiar in the way he doesn’t pry. Part of you wanted him to keep prying. 
He turns away from you, both of your eyes now settled into your surroundings a bit of the way across from you, settling into the silence between the two of you.
“You know you should quit doing this.”
“Smoking? I know.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Nanami’s larger frame leans back into the building beside you, still giving you a couple feet between the two of you.
Of course, you knew what he meant. You let out a sigh, blindly pressing the end of the cigarette to the brick to put it out with a twist of your fingers. 
“It’s complicated, Nanami.”
“Which is more of a reason to stop. If you know how he is, Y/N, you’d stop giving him this much grace.”
The weight of Nanami’s words were heavy on your chest, but you knew he was right. He didn’t know the full story between you two, but he didn’t need to know. It was the way you carried yourself, the energy you possessed at the mentioning of Gojo – it was all too obvious.
You decide to avoid a response to his words, turning your head to look up at him with a playful smile that feigns innocence, now returning your arms back to their crossed positioning.
“You know you don’t have to care about me so much~” You say in jest, just enough to get a small inkling of a smile from the taller man.
And you do, the corners of Nanami’s lips turning up into a slight smile that resembles sunlight between cumulus. It’s enough to make the somber moment much more lighthearted than it needed to be. 
“I’d be a fool to not care as much. Any decent man would want to be worried.”
There’s an airy chuckle that leaves your lips, just before your attention is drawn away from each other to hear the slam of a car door. 
Nanami’s smile is now dissipated, settled back into his stoic expression just as your own resets, even with your brows still slightly lifted to the sight of two men walking up to the building. 
The much taller, white haired man emerges from the vehicle, tugging down the dark bandage over his eyes and brushing the dirt and non-existent gravel from his dark attire. His appearance is disheveled, looking as if he scrapped with someone in a ditch with remnants of blood littered in his hair, across his pale flesh and fabric clinging and distressed to his frame.
“Yo, Nanami!” He exclaims, tone a tad exhausted while a slightly shorter, dark haired gentleman trails behind him soon after. You hear a disgruntled breath leave Nanami, catching from your peripherals his hand lifting in greeting.
“Satoru.” Nanami calls out, eyeing over his appearance as he’s leaning off the building and your own body straightens up. He glances over to you for a second, seeing the discomfort in your stiff appearance, now taking two steps forward when Gojo begins to walk over. 
“You look like hell.”
“Hey, I’ve fought worse~ This was lightwork.” Gojo says with a smitten grin plastered onto his face, Nanami only sighing hopelessly.
There wasn’t an ounce of acknowledgement of your presence when Nanami and Gojo spoke to one another. It doesn’t bother you, but it does bother you. It makes you realize that you really don’t need to be here after all. 
‘If you know how he is, Y/N, you’d stop giving him this much grace.’
The quote replays like an echo in your head. It sinks deep and it’s now something you’re completely stuck on. It’s enough to bring your feet to step away from the two of them, crossing behind Nanami to head back into the building. You need to be away and in your office anyway and you got the reassurance you needed that Gojo was still kicking. 
It’s when you step away, does Gojo’s attention follow you for a split second before it returns back to Nanami. And Nanami can clearly see it, no matter how short of a fraction it was, his own gaze trailing behind you before he turns back to the white haired man. 
You’re no longer in earshot of the conversation, but the feeling of dread is still there. Why was it consuming you this badly? What purpose did it serve to wallow in it? You tousle your tresses in dismay, huffing to yourself.
“This is so fucking stupid..” It’s something you murmur to yourself.
Every time he goes on a mission, you worry; every time he isn’t back in the fit time frame, you worry. How much more did you need to worry about a man that wanted absolutely nothing to do with you?
You weren’t expecting a ‘hey, hello, Y/N!’ or a ‘were you waiting on little ol’ me~?’ that he would casually throw in just to annoy you, to which you would retort with something along the lines of ‘glad to see you not dead’.
You don’t know what you were expecting. 
The moment you enter your office, you close the door immediately behind you and lean back into it, the back of your head pressing into the glass. You feel a slight sting behind your eyelids when you close them for a moment of clarity, you already know your eyes are welling up by just how frustrated you were.
You settle into the memory from years back.
It’s as if you’re reliving it. The momentary glimmers of your youth with Satoru, the stolen glances, the teasing that traveled into your later years that were still juvenile just more refined with age. Late nights after trials and training. Off days where you’d hang around his place; where he’d hang around yours.
Then, the memory starts to build up. 
Being employed under the same group of sorcerers for the academy. Taking assigned missions with each other with ease, celebratory drinks after to congratulate each other on coming out alive of each one.
The memory starts to boil over.
Letting you in on his Infinite. 
It’s scalding.
His Infinite.
It’s hard to control – hard to breathe.
The day you realized he denied you access to his Infinite.
It makes your stomach sink the more you think about it, the more you ruminate in it–
“Lost in thought or are you spiraling?”
The familiarity in that tone of voice sends a shock through your frame and makes your gut once sunk low jump straight back up into your throat. 
Your eyes shoot open, immediately darting to the glimmer of the white haired figure sitting at your desk, sitting back comfortably with one leg settled over his knee.
“Jesus fucking Christ–” You let out a weary gasp, palm pressed to your heart as if to check if it was still beating. Gojo expels a short laugh in response and your brows twitch together.
It was the first thing he’s said to you in months, and it didn’t feel as comforting or fulfilling to be finally addressed by Gojo as you thought it would be. 
You wear an irritated expression as you glance over him, standing up straighter against the door. 
“Can’t remember the last time I popped in on you like this,” He remarks with his hands folding together on his lap, mirth playing on his tiers with his head cocked towards his shoulder, using his heel to lean back into the chair. “I almost forgot how jumpy you get when I do it.”
You couldn’t remember the last time he did this either. Gojo would play this game with you quite often, mostly to ask you a measly question about something that could have been simply sent through a text or just to get under your skin when you weren’t expecting it. Most of the time, it was the latter.
“Why can’t you just knock on the door like a normal person?” You respond with a sharpness in your tone that just causes the grin to stretch further on his lips.
“Mmn, I’m not normal, remember?” He purrs lowly.
“Clearly,” A sigh leaves your lips, your facial features now relaxing after taking a small glance around your office before it returns back to him. You ponder what to say next, but the words come out less polite than you initially wanted. “What do you want, Gojo?”
It’s quiet for a short moment before the grin is softening on his lips into more of a cocky smile, sitting back up again and swiveling in the chair to face you.
“Come over to my place tonight.”
You stare blankly. You don’t respond.
Gojo exhales a dry laugh to the delay of a response he receives from you, only causing your shoulders to tense.
“What?”
“Do I really have to repeat myself again, Y/N? You heard me.”
“I heard you–” You echo back to him, scoffing under a haughty breath as you push yourself off the door, shifting to stand in front of your desk. You lean over to snatch up a few papers that were laid out on the surface, turning to your filing cabinet to store them where they needed to be. “--but lemme guess.. You don’t have some other girl to occupy your space tonight, so you have to turn to me as a last resort?”
“Oh, please, Y/N~ You know me better than anyone else, and you know that I can scoop any random girl in a millisecond to do my bidding if I chose to~”
Your jaw tightens to that. 
But, he wasn’t wrong. 
Gojo had a knack for hooking up with just about anything that had a pulse, and they’d surely fall into his palms just with a glance. You’ve walked in on him a couple times when you would merely visit and a different girl every time was scrambling to get their clothes on and rush out as fast as possible, never to be seen again.
“Tonight’s different. I want you to come over. For old time’s sake.”
“I’m busy tonight.”
Gojo grimaces with a twitch of his nose, even exhaling a snort to the quick admission.
“You’re lying.” He chimes, head following you as you close the filing cabinet and turning towards him again. 
“And?” You place your hands on your hips, facial features stern when speaking – definitely trying to shield yourself. “So what if I’m lying? Why do you want me over?”
“For old time’s sa–”
“Gojo.” You raise your voice to stop him, the sound bouncing off the walls as you hold a hand up to press into your temple and close your eyes to calm yourself for that small pause, quietly, deeply sighing.
You’re mildly hesitant when your mouth opens, the following words hardly summing up how you felt in that moment.
“You haven’t spoken to me.. In months,” You begin with a worn tone, much quieter but still audible enough for him to hear you. It was only the two of you in the room after all. “And.. you want me to come over to your place? Just like that? You want me to just say, ‘yes, Satoru, I’ve been waiting for you to reach out like this, I’ll definitely come over!’ and just do it?”
You play up the performance by exaggerating your words – even when there was so much truth behind them – hand falling to your side as you stare a hole into the white haired man perched in the seat. 
All the while, Gojo’s smile is still fixed on his tiers, lightly clicking his tongue soon after before he’s standing up from the chair to walk around your desk, leaning his hip into the edge of it.
“Honestly, knowing you, I figured you wouldn’t be too thrilled by it,” He gives a shrug of his shoulders, rolling his head to cock once more. “But.. You haven’t said no.”
You blink once, coming to the realization that you really haven’t denied it. He wasn’t really asking either. 
He just simply said it. 
“Come over to my place tonight.” Gojo repeats, now lifting himself off of the desk to stand tall and a foot away from you. He towers over you, so you have to crane your neck just enough to get a good look at him. “If you don’t show up, I’ll get the message.”
You don’t even have a second to reply, or even come back with a snarky comment, before he’s disappearing from sight.
The weight on your chest has somehow lifted, the tension in your shoulders soothed, but it’s not comforting in the slightest. You stare at the spot he was once standing in, mindlessly walking over to your desk to sit onto as your eyes wander the room. Your fingertips drag along the surface of the wood, quirking your lips to one side in thought. 
Why didn’t you say no..?
There’s a knock at the door that breaks you away from lingering far longer on the thought, your body back to its stiff state. Only then does it go away when you see it open and Nanami appear behind it. A sigh of relief leaves you, almost slumping forward with your palms bracing the desk.
Nanami doesn’t have to say anything. The look in your eyes says enough.
You break the silence after a moment, standing back onto your feet as you take a glance at the clock on the wall before looking back to Nanami.
“Dinner on me?”
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gretavanfleetposts · 5 months
Text
Fire in the Water: Chapter Five
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Summary: You had thought dating a vampire would be the most complicated thing you'd ever done. But as it turns out, becoming one is even more complicated. The boys are determined to make your transformation as smooth as possible while each fighting to maintain the relationships they once had and those they now lust for. Author's Note: As always, I'd like to thank the lovely @gretasmokerising for inspiring me and encouraging me and @earthlysorrows for editing and helping me piece everything together/brainstorm Content Warnings: swearing, brief mentions of suicide risk, talk of blood, oral sex (m. receiving), penetrative sex (18+ minors do not interact) Word Count: 9.3k
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You'd been lingering around the greenhouse more and more as the days went by. Things with Josh felt strange, things with Jake even stranger. So instead of facing either of them, you preferred to hunt with Sam and hole up with the plants in your free time. It seemed like a good balance, despite being the cowardly thing to do.
It wasn't just the tie, though. On your hunts with Sam, you never really felt any true remorse for the things you did. The person you became when you were hungry. And more and more, it seemed you were that person regardless of your state of hunger. You weren't entirely certain Sam didn't regret signing up to teach you. He was a good teacher, you just weren't a very good student.
You ran cold most of the time but on a moment's notice, you'd thaw hot. Sam was getting more used to it the more time you spent together. He used touch to bring you back to him. It was the only thing that seemed to ground you without pulling you too far in the opposite direction. But really, it just distracted you. It was no true remedy. Sam assured you it would just take time. You weren't so sure.
The truth was, the longer you spent apart from the twins, the more you came into yourself. You were finding yourself in that forest, even if what you found wasn't very pretty. It was a whole other thing entirely to contend with but you were set on understanding yourself better. At least you could make progress on something while you formulated a plan to miraculously fix your love life.
You and Sam never spoke of your love life, not after that first day in the woods when he had confronted you on the matter. You suspected he knew sometimes. It wasn't as though your thoughts were devoid of the subject completely. But if he did know, he never let on. Silently, from the confines of the greenhouse when Sam was nowhere to be found, you sometimes wondered if he didn't bring it up because he didn't want to think of you that way, having hurt his brother the same way Adele had hurt him. Maybe he didn't bring it up because he didn't want to know if he was right. Maybe he'd have no choice but to look at you differently if he knew.
You didn't tell him for those same reasons. If Sam were to turn your back on you, you felt certain you'd wander into the forest with no intention of ever returning. You'd grown to need him, in your own way. But even so, you seldom let yourself hope he needed you back.
He was getting used to your routine, so much so that one night, when you had emerged from his shower after a particularly brutal hunt, you'd wandered into the greenhouse to find a makeshift pillow fort amongst the plants. It was nestled snugly in between tables that looked recently cleaned and the stringed lights that illuminated the little glass house looked fresh, like they'd been replaced. You'd even noticed the paper garland that now hung in tandem with the lights, tiny gold foil stars that reflected the twinkling sparks even better than the glass did. You never thanked him out loud for it. But he had heard what he needed to hear.
It was such a beautiful place to hide out. It almost eased the guilt over the fact that you were indeed hiding. You weren't even sure who you were hiding from more: Josh or Jake. With Josh, you ran the risk of saying something you couldn't take back, maybe even recoiling from a touch that would leave a scar deeper than anything your gifts were capable of. But with Jake, you ran the risk of doing something you couldn't take back, something that would lead to more. And you weren't exactly good at stopping when it was more that you wanted.
So it was the greenhouse that comforted you while Sam was busy doing whatever it was he did when he wasn't hunting. It was the plants that you confided in. Grieved with. Even sometimes laughed with.
Actually, maybe you were just going crazy from lack of interaction. That was a possibility too.
Regardless, you were beginning to lose time. Days blurred together when you didn't sleep and hardly noticed the cadence of the sun and moon alternating in the sky. So when Danny showed up amongst the glass walls, it almost startled you, and the five o'clock shadow on his upper lip seemed to be the only indication of passing time.
When you heard him enter, you sat up and folded your legs underneath you. He moved silently to sit in front of you, pulling an unused pot to the edge of your blanket and overturning it to use as a makeshift stool. You'd half-expected Adele to be glued to his side, had barely seen them apart since you'd arrived. But he was alone, his usual soft smile adorning his lips but looking much less mischievous now that his other half was elsewhere. Maybe Josh had sent him to come find you.
"Where’s Adele?" you asked, not meeting his eyes but instead casting yours downward to fiddle with a fray in the hem of a purple velvet blanket you'd been using. If Josh had sent him, you'd rather not see that hurt on Danny's face, a message from his brother.
"She likes to take advantage of the heavier storms and walk along the cliffs overlooking the ocean. Only makes me a little nervous," Danny chuckled lightly.
"Do you ever go with her?"
"No, she needs her alone time."
"Yeah, I'm starting to feel the same," you mumbled under your voice.
You brought your knees to your chest and rested your chin against them, ignoring the beautifully sympathetic laugh Danny let out.
Him and his perfect match. Danny and Adele made everything look so easy despite the messiness you'd heard tales of. You'd still only seen remnants of the aftermath. If you didn't know any better, you would have said it had gone smoothly, that they were always meant to be. Even knowing how it had happened, your human self would have agreed. Danny and Adele were always meant to be. But you'd seen the memory Sam had shown you. You had seen the way Adele had once looked at Sam instead of Danny. How they managed to waltz about the house and ignore what they had done, you weren't sure. Maybe one day you'd understand but it wouldn't be understanding born out of your own willingness to give in to it. In fact, you quite hoped you'd never understand. You couldn't bring yourself to put Josh through such hurt.
"How's the super hearing?" Danny interrupted your thoughts and pulled you back to the physical walls surrounding you.
"Pretty annoying to be honest," you admitted, "although it's not so bad out here. Mostly just hear the forest."
It was secluded enough to make you feel mostly alone, only a glimpse or two of the noises of life carrying on inside the home audible when you let your focus wander away from the forest.
"It takes a lot of work to tune it all out but it’ll happen eventually."
You might have rolled your eyes but truthfully, it was hard to be annoyed with Danny. Even for you.
"I’ll have to take your word for it," you said instead, earning another laugh from him where he sat now leaning down with his elbows on his knees to bring himself closer to you, make himself a little smaller.
"When Jake turned, it was almost too much for him. There was a stretch of time where we thought he was going to…well, try and die for real." There was a sense of reminiscence in his voice as he recalled it, his fingers absently fiddling with a rope bracelet slung around his wrist and pulled taught. It must have been a painful memory for him; he almost winced as he remembered it. "With the hearing and his gifts, he could barely even have a conversation with someone sitting right across from him. It took time but he learned how to focus on one thing at a time. Just feel something or hear something, and focus on that."
You couldn't imagine Jake as anything other than what you had seen so far, the picture of control. Even the glimpse you'd stolen of him with his women had painted an image of a vampire who had mastered his own urges and kept them under tight rein in order to live the life he wanted. He couldn't afford to be careless and lose control. But knowing that there had been another version of him, and one who had struggled so greatly with his own control, admittedly you felt a little less bad about your own lack of it. It didn't make your current circumstances any more favorable, but at the very least, it made you feel a little less alone.
Although loneliness wasn't exactly the issue. When it came to Jake, there was an entire chasm of problems to venture deep into. Not that you were feeling adventurous.
You cleared your throat and moved the topic from Jake to the brother you'd now spent far more time with.
"You and Sam. You don't talk anymore?"
Danny sat back off his knees, putting unmissable distance between you as he sighed. You knew what that meant. It wasn't an easy topic for him to discuss. But he answered your question with a resigned shake of his head that sent his curls bouncing in their place.
"Not the way we used to," he said simply, a rather quiet resolution to the mess that you felt every time you entered a room with Sam or Danny.
"Do you regret it?"
"There's nothing to regret. It wasn't a choice I really made. I would do anything for Adele, no matter the consequences and how badly they hurt."
You weren't all that sure you felt the same, although supposedly that would change. It was those consequences and that hurt that drove you away from the idea of it altogether.
You sighed heavily as you continued to pluck at the fraying edge on the blanket, effectively worsening its state. "Do you think you'll ever fix things?"
"I hope. Losing him was the hardest thing I've ever done. He's just a ghost of who he was before." A smile grew on his face, no doubt at some memory of Sam that he was recalling. "You would have loved him."
He hadn't meant it in any bad way but you couldn't help but feel it was unfair. You didn't dislike Sam, not even close. Even if he was different from how he'd been. Of course, it probably helped that you'd never known him before. But in your time with him, hunting and talking, learning and listening, he had been gentle. He had warmed to you like a cat resting on hardwood floor in the only sun spot it could find. And as a vampire now, you'd drawn to him like moth to flame. You were one in the same, forever changed by things outside of your control. Forever angered by those things.
It made you think about your own losses, the ones that still burned in your throat and clawed at your chest when you weren't looking.
"I'm not very good at losing people," you offered out of the blue.
Danny stood from where he'd been sitting on the overturned pot, catching your eye as he stepped onto your blanket and folded his legs beneath him the way you had situated yours.
"I think you handle yourself better than you think you do. Maybe present situation excluded."
His eyes shone brightly and you couldn't help but chuckle with him at his comment.
You shook your head, remembering back to how deep you had fallen after your parents and how desperate you'd been for a reprieve when you had met Josh. He hadn't fixed you by any means but he had distracted you from the harsher realities you hadn't quite been ready to deal with. Realities you now had no choice but to face, despite the way you still fought it.
"I pushed it down when I was human. I don't think I'm capable of pushing anything down now though."
"Everything will bubble to the surface eventually. But the good news is, you have a lot of time to learn to manage it all."
A lot of time. That was hardly the half of it.
"I know you're struggling," Danny started again. "You've been out here for three days. Josh is starting to worry. Hell, we're all starting to worry. Sam keeps reassuring us you're doing okay but…"
God, had it been three full days since you'd been in the house?
"I don't want to be around anyone right now. It's better that way." You held your knees tighter to your chest.
"You don't deserve to go through this alone," Danny answered softly. "I've been where you've been. I didn't go through it alone. I wouldn't have made it if I had."
When you met his eyes, you saw a glimmer of recognition, like he knew more than he let on. Maybe he had seen it already, something within you that he recognized as being within himself. Maybe it was the look you had given Jake that had given you away. Then again, maybe he hadn't seen anything and this was all just a recon mission for Josh. Surely if he knew, he'd have said something about it by now.
Regardless, he knew better than anyone what you were going through. Well, anyone other than Adele, that was. But maybe he had some wisdom to impart that would make your world seem a little less foggy to you.
"I…I've been feeling something…strange." You struggled to form words despite Danny's kind eyes resting on your face ever so gracefully.
"What is it?" he asked softly, encouraging you.
"I'm different…I mean, I feel different…" You trailed off. It was a hard thing to admit, the feelings you suddenly had for your boyfriend's twin. How could you say that out loud?
"That's normal-" Danny started but you quickly stopped him.
"No, not just the normal different. And not just the…the crazy mood swings and the anger but…"
He noticed your hesitation and cocked his head to the side, his brows furrowing in harder the longer you rambled. Finally, with a sigh, your shoulders sank.
"I feel like such a bad person," you admitted in a whisper.
Danny's hand found yours where it hugged your leg, prying it away just enough that he could take hold of your fingers in his palm.
"Whatever it is, I promise you I will never judge you."
He knew what it was, you were certain of it now. Just the way he looked at you made it evident without him uttering so much as a single word on the topic. But he clearly wanted to hear it from your mouth before he lobbied any allegations.
"Things haven't felt the same between Josh and I." You stared at him intently as you spoke, bracing for any sign of judgment. "I'm worried…that I might have…tied-"
It was the image of Jake suddenly appearing in the doorway of the greenhouse that cut your words off sharply, your eyes darting over to him and Danny's following suit.
“Am I interrupting?" Jake asked. He looked even more disheveled than usual, the bags under his eyes having deepened in color since the last time you'd seen him.
"Clearly-" you started, but Danny spoke over you.
“Not at all, we were just talking about super hearing.”
Jake looked past Danny as if he weren't even there, addressing you only when he spoke.
“We need to talk.”
You said nothing, watching silently as Danny glanced back and forth between you both once before standing to his feet and wiping his palms on his jeans.
"Adele will be back soon so, I'm just gonna…" He gestured with his thumb toward the door, signaling his exit.
You watched him leave with a disapproving look melted into your face, freezing there for Jake once the two of you were alone.
"Do you plan to hide out here forever?" he asked finally after a long tenured silence.
“I don’t want to talk to you,” you said flatly, turning your eyes back to the tattered trim of the blanket in your lap.
“Don’t do this, don’t hide from me.”
“I’m not your little human anymore, I can hurt you now."
He shook his head. “You were always capable of hurting of me.”
You stared at him incredulously, disbelief now crossing your features. It felt like this was all some sort of cruel joke that wouldn't end.
You stood to confront him, crossing the greenhouse and weaving around plants simply so you could cast your judgment over to him instead, pushing your finger into his chest hard enough to leave a dent had he been human.
“You did this to me," you accused angrily. "This is your fault.”
"Yes, this," he gestured to you, "this is my fault. But this?"
He reached his hand up to cup your face gently, staring into your eyes like he was staring into your soul. When his fingers wrapped around to graze against your neck, you felt the immediate draw, that immediate yearning to pull yourself into him and let his lips glide against yours.
"I didn't create this," he whispered.
It must have been stronger for him, feeling his own desire and his own attraction as well as yours. It must have been twice as hard for him to stay away from you, to ignore the fact that you'd been staying mere feet from him in the greenhouse. He hadn't even had another woman over since you'd hunkered down there, maybe since you'd tied at all. And when he touched you, you remembered why. It brought back the strength of the feeling that had dulled in his absence.
Your eyes felt heavy as he stepped closer, dragging down to his lips where they sat plump and pink, like they were pillow soft and waiting to prove it to you. He seemed just as fixated on your own when your gaze flickered back up to study him, to watch his movements carefully.
It was an attraction that you could feel growing stronger by the second and how you would ever deny him one day, you weren't sure. Even now, after only a few measly days, you wanted to crash your lips to his. You wanted to taste him, to be tasted by him.
The feeling was strong. But for now, you were still stronger.
"Enough. I get it," you broke the tension quickly, physically pushing him off of you to sever the contact. And when you did, that feeling dissipated almost instantly and dwindled down to just a mere spark, one akin to what you had felt for him as a human. It was only a matter of time that it would exist that way, but it bought you time to figure out what to do. If there even was anything to do.
"You need to stay away from me," you reiterated as you turned from him to gaze at the plants you'd taken in as your own, left in their solitude that now comforted you.
"It won't matter, not for long."
Your fingers dug into the table in front of you and your eyes wound shut while you tried your best to hold your composure close. He was right and you knew it but that didn't make it hurt any less. And it didn't do anything to subdue your anger.
"Josh cannot find out about this," you whispered in a tense hush, your teeth gritting and grinding against one another.
"You can't even bring yourself to see him."
It was the thought of Josh that incited moisture to spring up from your eyes, the thought of leaving Josh and living without him while he led a life as miserable as Sam. You couldn't bring yourself to do it to him. You couldn't condemn him to such sorrow.
You turned sharply back toward Jake. "You can fix it, you can take this away."
He stepped toward you slowly despite being the only one mostly shielded from your gifts. Not that he could avoid feeling your hurt as easily.
“I can’t-” he started, brows furrowing in on that sympathetic look he seemed to always be wearing around you now. It infuriated you, seeing him that way. Acting helpless, like this was just something he was going to accept.
“Bullshit, you can't,” you screamed back, the sound piercing the air and sending birds which had previously been resting comfortably in the surrounding trees scurrying up into the air to flee.
He looked devastatingly helpless. Maybe he'd never encountered a feeling he couldn't fix or tinker with just enough to make the person feeling it feel better. But you couldn't forget that he would feel Josh's hurt at the end of it all too.
"It'll only be temporary," he answered reluctantly as he met you where you stood. It must have been the tears now cascading down your cheeks that prompted him forward as you pressed the heel of your hands into your eyes.
"I'm not supposed to want you, I'm not-" It came out as a choked sob now, having crept up on you the way it usually did. You were quick to anger, but the hurt that drove you to tears? That one hunted you in the night, stalked you like a silent predator and only attacked when you realized you were backed into a corner.
You didn't see him wrap his arms around you but you felt him there and instinctively buried your face into his chest as you cried.
"I know," he attempted to soothe you with his hands cradling the back of your head, letting his fingers dig into your scalp to hold you tightly, like a weighted blanket engulfing as much of your body as he could. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I did this, I'm sorry I turned you. I couldn't let you die, I couldn't."
"Did you know?" you choked out against his chest in between muffled sobs.
"No, of course I didn't know." He sounded almost offended by what you had accused him of and suddenly you were pushing him away again.
Always so hot and cold.
"Is that why you were taking me out to dinners? Staying up late at night talking to me while Josh was out-" The accusation burned in your throat, scalding him on the way out as he shook his head vehemently in his defense.
"I was just trying to make you feel like you had a family again-"
"And now you're taking it from me! The thing I wanted so badly and you snatched it up like it belonged to you! You knew! I know you knew!"
Maybe it had been a baseless accusation before but when you watched him go quiet and saw the pained look fold in his brows as his lips pursed into a tight line, you suddenly wanted to hurt him. It made you rethink those nights you had spent together, him cooking for you, playing games with you, talking and listening to you, all while Josh was out feeding. That last night especially, the memory of it warped in your mind until it was unrecognizable.
"Say it!" you all but screamed through your tears and your anger.
"Danny always saw Josh turn you," he said finally, much more calmly than you. "But even then, he never saw anything past that. We never really knew why. Sam was trying to talk him out of doing it just in case. And then after I met you, I…I don't know. I wondered."
It was embarrassing how heavily the tears began to fall, even if the admission made no difference in the way of inevitability.
"You should have just let me die," you sputtered.
He shook his head in disbelief. It was the most wounded you'd ever seen him.
"You'd rather have died than be tied with me?"
"I'd rather have died than become what I am! I cannot deal with losing myself and Josh too!"
"Josh will understand. It isn't your fault-"
"Get out!" You finally snapped. Too many mentions of Josh, too much dwelling on the circumstances that you begged the universe to change. You could barely look at Jake. "Can't you feel how badly I want you to get away from me?"
"Baby, please just talk to me-"
You couldn't argue with the tingle that pet name sent surging through your bloodstream but you could brush it off and pretend it never happened. Even if he had felt it.
You pushed past him in an angry huff. If he wouldn't leave, you would.
"Where are you going?" he asked from behind you.
You knew he longed to grab your wrist and pull you back into him and with one touch, you would have caved in his arms instantly. But he didn't reach for you. He let you go.
"I'm going to make things right," you called back to him as you went. "And you might want to pay real close attention to what you're about to feel because it's what I should be feeling and what I will be choosing to feel."
It was your rage that carried you through the house, up the steps and down the hall until you pushed open Josh's bedroom door to find him nose deep in a journal on the bed he'd bought for his human girlfriend.
When he caught sight of you, the worry that had creased his forehead and sent his fingers buzzing with restlessness was suddenly a thing of the past. He practically jumped off the bed to greet you with arms open wide.
"Danny knew he'd get you out of there. I was going to send Adele in next-"
It wasn't a hug you wanted. It was Josh. Some tangible proof that what you'd had before still existed between you. So you said nothing, only crashed your mouth against his. He accepted you instantly, his hands finding your body the way they always did. He pulled you into him like he wanted to become one with you.
You moaned against his mouth when his tongue slipped past your lips. He was eager. You couldn't blame him; you'd been avoiding him for days. But his eagerness was exactly what you needed. He couldn't hurt you anymore, at long last. You'd take his eagerness and devour it.
You weren't gentle when you guided him backward and pushed his back up against the glass wall framing his room, sending a dangerous crack splintering through the glass at the impact. A whimper started deep within his chest and worked its way up through his throat until you were swallowing it down like it was your communion for some unholy ritual you were performing with him.
His mouth worked against yours, never once pulling away even as your hands moved in a frenzy to tear at the material of his shirt, letting it fall away in tatters. You moved to his pants next, his usual khakis with his belt looped through. Too many obstacles to get to him. But his hands wound around your wrists, holding them still as he pried his mouth away and struggled to speak with your mouth now against his neck, never missing a beat.
"What is this?" he whispered, his breath catching in the end when you nipped at his skin hard enough to send a shot of pleasure up through his body but not hard enough to break skin.
"I just need you," was all you replied.
It seemed to be enough for him because he let your wrists go without any further questioning and took your hips in his hands, pulling your pelvis into his. You each moaned at the contact, feeling the other so close and tempting the control the other had. But you needed more. You needed him fully to assure yourself you still had a choice, still had some say in what happened to you and who you'd spend eternity with.
He practically growled against your mouth when your hands teased his erection through his pants, rubbing painstakingly soft lines up and down his shaft straining in his tight khakis. He was so mouthwateringly big. Surely your desire for him could never change.
Your own passion seemed to ignite that same Josh that had demonstrated himself the last night you'd spent with him as a human, only now, there was nothing he could do that would hurt you irreparably. He could be himself with you, fully, finally. He could use his strength without worry, drink from you without worry, encompass himself in you without worry. And you hoped he would.
His hands weaved their way into your hair, pulling your head back sharply the way Jake had the night at the bar. It seemed like such a distant memory but it was that memory that the sensation brought back to the forefront of your mind. How dark his eyes had been. How badly you'd wanted to give him a hard time even when your breath had failed you.
You tried to shake the memory of Jake from your mind as you took in his twin now, eyes almost entirely black with lust and need. He was practically gone, only a shell of your regular Josh, replaced almost fully by the creature that he was. That you both now were.
You couldn't help the almost evil smile that spread on your lips as he held your head back, not letting you near his lips where you wanted to be.
"Don't hold out on me." You whispered the tease.
He smiled back, a devilish smile that overtook his face.
"Never," he answered.
He pulled your face back into his, this time biting your lip and drawing blood when he felt your fingers tease the imprint of the head of his cock still sheathed in his pants. And the moment your blood touched his tongue, you couldn't help the moan that escaped your body. It wasn't like being drank from as a human. When he had bitten you before, it had hurt. But this time, there was no hurt to be found. This time, when he drank from you, you felt like you'd taken ecstacy. It heightened every sensation within your body. Every touch that was electric before now seared into your flesh. It numbed your mind into an almost orgasmic-like state despite how little you'd even done up until that point.
You could only imagine what it would feel like to have Jake's lips in his place, his fangs instead of Josh's puncturing your skin. An already strong feeling in and of itself, he could make it feel like more.
Your mind did a dangerous dance between the two brothers, your body lusting after the one who now touched you while your mind lusted for the one who didn't even need to touch you. But each time you felt your mind wander to Jake, you fought harder to suppress it. It wasn't anything real, after all. It was a chemical reaction created by some ancient ritual that you really knew nothing about.
It wasn't real.
You maneuvered Josh until his back was pressing into the mattress. There was something to be said for the integrity of the bed frame, too, groaning uneasily under the weight of the force you used to push him backward. He tried to pull you down with him, urging you to put him out of his misery and straddle his cock already but you splayed his arms out on either side of his head, using your strength to hold him down by his biceps as you indulged your tongue in a delicious path down the icy skin of his torso.
You only moved your hands when your chin met the waistband of his pants, giving him a stern enough look to hold him in his place while you ripped the belt loops of his khakis removing his belt and tore the remaining fabric down his thighs. He looked lost in his lust as you stared down at his cock, having sprung up from its confines and now bobbing eagerly against his abdomen. Waiting for you.
When he lifted his head to watch you and you met his eyes, for a fraction of a second it was Jake you saw, casting his lustful eyes down at you as they practically pleaded with you to take his cock into your mouth. But almost as quickly, the image of Jake evaporated and left you staring a little too intently at Josh.
You blinked it away, trying to bring yourself back to him, trying to focus.
"What's wrong?" Josh asked softly from above you, the eagerness and desperation melting away the moment he became concerned for you.
You shook your head to ease him back into it.
"Nothing." You gave him a smile, one you hoped was convincing, and dipped your face down without another word to press a light kiss against his thigh.
His skin was so soft and plush, even where the muscles laid taught just beneath the skin. His body always begged to be touched. It was made for it.
Your lips worked their way over to his hardened length leaking desperation. You had always loved teasing him but now it served another purpose. The lingering touches, the whimpers they elicited from Josh's lungs, it helped ground you. It kept you there with him while your mind fought to float out and find his brother.
You don't want him, you told yourself. You repeated it back in your mind, over and over. You wanted Josh; you were sure of it. You would always want Josh.
You did away with the teasing to finally take him down your throat, noting your lack of a gag reflex as you nuzzled your nose against the soft hair tickling his pelvis at the base. And his moan in response was loud, maybe louder than you'd ever heard him. He was letting himself go. He was moving without worry, feeling without caution. Every movement freed him a little further. But to you, it felt like each brought you closer to the entanglement. Each movement brought you closer to something you couldn't avoid.
You focused on the way he tasted resting heavy against your tongue, the way he sounded, too. Those sounds which were distinctly Josh. Not needing to breathe was a nice addition; you could pump your mouth around him forever without any breaks, working him up faster than you ever could have as a human.
He leaned up onto his elbows to watch you take him, each bob of your head taking him deep into the back of your throat before you retreated to swirl your tongue around the head. He tasted like Josh, a beautiful mixture of salty and sweet that laid so nicely on your tongue. He felt like Josh, too, thick and pulsing against your tongue. And he sounded like Josh, whimpering in that way that he did that made it sound like he'd do absolutely anything you asked of him, if only you'd keep going.
Everything was right and yet somehow it all felt so wrong.
"You take me so well," he whispered as he watched you, in awe of the way your tongue lapped along his shaft as you suctioned your mouth around him, the head of his cock hitting that soft tissue at the back of your throat with each downward movement.
You wanted it. No, you wanted to want it. Was Jake paying attention? Was he jealous? Was he out there with his women, paying no mind to what you were doing?
Your rhythm faltered and you pulled off of him quickly, moving to straddle him instead.
"Such a rush…" he whispered.
You knew Josh preferred slow but he was certainly never one to complain. And you would have happily gone slow with him if it weren't for the fact that you now felt you were in a race with your thoughts as they devolved into something you weren't proud of.
Josh helped you out of your jeans at the pace you had wanted, his hands making quick work of the material of both your top and bottoms to leave you in only your silky undergarments. Neither of which you bothered to remove. Instead, you simply yanked the material of your panties to the side and slid down onto his length with a sigh of relief. He was where he belonged.
He still felt good; at least there was that. His cock buried deep inside of you still felt as mind numbing as it always had, and even more so when he lifted himself up to let his fangs sink into the spot just below your breast.
You drew in a sharp breath when you felt the pull of your blood from your body into his mouth. You didn't realize that part would be different as a vampire, the cold blood stagnant in your veins and probably not satiating but somehow incredibly sexual.
You used his hair as your anchor, holding him close to you while you began to raise and lower your hips.
"Oh my god," you gasped. You could have spilled tears at the sensation of riding him while he drank from you.
Josh's mouth pulled away from where he had latched onto your skin to kiss lower, bending his torso to bite further down.
"Fuck, Josh!" you gasped at the way the feeling had dissipated and suddenly resurged through your body.
You rode him faster, taking advantage of the enhanced muscles in your legs to work up a pace that would have incited the meanest of burns in your legs as a human. But as a vampire, it was easy. It was easy to ride him into oblivion as he struggled to keep it together.
He pulled away from your body again to bring his lips up to your ear, one arm still holding him upright while the other curved around your back and pressed you closer to him.
"I don't need the soul tie," he whispered. "I have you. That's what matters."
It hit you all at once, the weight of the lie you were keeping from him. Your hips faltered and an intense shame pushed through your body like it owned you.
"I'm sorry, I can't-" you sputtered, pulling yourself off of him and practically flying backward until your back hit the wall behind you and he was left lying on the bed, confused and concerned.
He stared at you stunned for only a split second as the tears began to fall down your face before he was at your side, pants pulled back into their place and crouching low next to you where you had sunk against the floor.
“Hey, what’s wrong? What did I do?” Concern dipped his forehead, creating lines of worry deeper than his face usually held. Although that seemed to be a trend, as of late.
“I don’t-I don’t even know how to-” You stuttered, unable to form your thoughts into words and further unable to say what it was you clearly needed to say.
“It’s okay," he urged in that soft voice of his that had talked you out of one of the darkest times of your life, "you can talk to me. I'm sorry for whatever I did-”
“You didn't do anything. I’m just…I’m different, Josh.”
You were different. That was really all you could get out? That hardly explained the half of it.
But he nodded confidently. “I know, sweet girl, I know.”
It made you sigh, suddenly frustrated that he wasn't understanding even though you weren't giving him anything to understand. You were still hiding from him. And now it felt like you were flat out lying to him.
“No, no, I’m not…” You trailed off, burying your face in your hands and hoping the disgust didn't seep through your fingers for him to see.
“What?” he urged lightly.
You didn't know how to say it. You weren't certain you could even bring yourself to say it if you did. So instead, you opted for the next best thing. And it was just as truthful.
“I don’t deserve you, Josh. I’m not…I’m not good.”
His concern only deepened.
“What are you even saying?”
You struggled to meet his eyes, afraid he might see more of the truth there than you meant for him to. Afraid he might even coax it out of you himself with only the sadness behind his own. He could always shake you with just those big brown eyes. Of course, he never really needed to. You'd always just been putty in his hands and happy to be it. But things were changing.
“I’m not who I was and I don’t know why things are so different but they are.” Just enough to tell him you were changing but not enough to really explain anything at all. You'd look back on this conversation and regret holding him at such arms length.
But to your surprise, he nodded. And he looked like maybe he actually did understand, although how deep that understanding went, you weren't sure.
“You think I don’t know things are different? Trust me, I know." He chuckled but it wasn't a happy sound. More defeated than anything else. "I know you’re going through things you don’t want to talk to me about and I’m trying not to pry and give you your space but maybe I haven’t done the right thing. Fuck, I almost asked Sam earlier to tell me what you've been thinking but I couldn't bring myself to." He chuckled again, shaking his head as he stifled his rambling.
"Has he…said anything?" you asked cautiously. There wasn't much that Sam knew either but you weren't exactly careful with your thoughts, especially not when blood was involved.
"Just that your hunts have been going well and not to worry."
It was your turn to shake your head, your hand smearing against your forehead in exasperation. You might have had a headache if you'd been able to feel that type of pain.
"Maybe you should be worried," you whispered.
You hadn't even meant to say it aloud but once you did, you couldn't take it back. He had heard it and it set those lines deeper into his forehead. They'd be permanent wrinkles before long if you had anything to do with it.
"I just mean I can't control the things that I'm feeling…" It wasn't exactly a save by any means but it did seem to ease him a little.
He settled into a sitting position on the ground in front of you, like he was hunkering down there for as long as he needed to. He let his hand rest on your knee, careful not to go any further but keeping the contact to assure you that he was there, in whatever capacity you needed him to be. It should have made you better but it only caused a swell in the feeling of dread that seemed to have nested a permanent home in your chest.
"What do you need?" he asked softly, his thumb grazing along your skin. You knew that if that little finger had the power to ease all of your pain, it would. "I'll give you anything you need to get through this.”
There was no doubt in your mind of that. You only doubted what it would be worth in the end. If he would regret ever giving himself to you fully. It would cost you a lot but for him? It would cost him everything.
“What if I don’t get through it?” you asked just above a whisper, not meeting his eyes but instead fixing them to the movements of his thumb, movements that once would have incited fire deep inside your belly.
“I’m not going to leave you behind. Never.”
Never. It was like Sam and Adele's forever. He meant it now but he wouldn't mean it for long.
“What if…" you gulped hard, forcing yourself to continue. "What if we don’t get through this?”
You placed the emphasis where it was due and braced yourself for an overly supportive boyfriend, insisting that wouldn't be the case. It might have been the worst thing he could have possibly said in that moment but you should have known Josh better than that. You should have given him more credit for the things he saw, even when no one would give him a straight answer.
He pursed his lips hard, forming them into a tight line that they hardly ever agreed to. You were testing out his ability to frown, to morph wrinkles into his perfect skin, to look anything other than how he had been born to look: happy.
No, he didn't look happy. He didn't look like the Josh you were so familiar with. But he at least looked sincere. He was never capable of looking anything less than that.
“You are a part of this family now," he answered. And this time, the concern in his brows seemed to be concern that you may not believe him. But he pressed on. "That will always be the case, no matter which path you choose. And Jake…Jake can help you, you know. Help you control what you're feeling in a way the rest of us can't.”
Control. Would you spend the rest of your life without it? Eternity was a long time, surely you'd learn how to better manage. But the idea of someone else controlling you, even if that someone were Jake and his illustrious gifts, left a sour taste in your mouth. You didn't want to leave your fate up to someone else, constantly experiencing life through a haze of emotions you didn't create. It might have sounded appealing when you were a human but now that everything was intensified and you took pleasure in the things you shouldn't have, you wanted to be the keeper of your own emotions, erratic as they were. If it was manufactured chemicals you wanted, you wanted to choose it. And if it really was Jake you wanted, you wanted to choose him too.
You said nothing but after some time spent on the floor, the top of your head pressed into his chest while you slumped over on yourself, he picked you up quietly and carried you to bed. Not to sleep but to hold you.
You knew it was likely to be the last time you'd find any comfort in his arms the way you once had. And silently, against the cover of his chest, you mourned the loss of it.
At some point when the sun broke over the horizon and signaled dawn, you slid out of bed while Josh refreshed himself in the shower, aiming for the bottle of aged whiskey Jake kept in the liquor cabinet tucked away in the kitchen. Something to keep you company throughout the day, you had decided.
You heard Sam descend the stairs and enter the kitchen as your fingers found the familiar curve of the bottle.
"I'm not hungry." You didn't even turn to look at him as you straightened and uncorked the bottle, taking a swig directly from it. It didn't burn the way it might have as a human but it still tasted like gasoline. You weren't entirely sure how Jake stomached it. Maybe that was his version of self-inflicted torture.
“You’ve practically been screaming your thoughts to me,” Sam said as he settled with his hip jutting into the counter next to you.
You could feel the lecture you were about to get and it angered you before it even graced his lips and fell upon your ears.
“You and Jake. Making sure I'm never fucking alone.”
“I like to think I've been a little kinder about it than Jake.”
He had been. But you were keeping more and more secrets with each passing second and you were struggling to want to admit that to him.
You slammed the liquor cabinet door shut, closing your eyes and breathing deeply as your fingers sank into the wood and left little crescent moon dents in the surface. You were working on your anger. It wasn't going all that well.
"Oh so now you're coming to cash in on all of those moments you could have been shitty to me but chose not to?" you accused. "How noble of you."
"I'm flattered by the incredibly low opinion you have of me so why don't I make this easy for you. You tell Josh or I will."
You had known it was likely he had heard your thoughts the previous night, the breakdown you'd had in Josh's room despite it being the first time you'd faced him in days. Of course, you had hoped Sam would continue on in his silence. There had been nothing other than your initial look at Jake to give you away. If you had only stayed put in the greenhouse.
You tell Josh or I will.
It made your blood run cold.
“What did you just say?” You turned to him in utter disbelief, praying you had somehow magically heard him wrong.
"Do I really need to say it again?"
“You Kiszka’s and your invasive fucking gifts, throwing around judgment about things that are none of your business.”
“You have to tell him, honey." He said that word, honey, with such disdain. "You have to tell Josh the truth.”
“There’s nothing to tell, Sam!” It was a quiet whisper but spoken without any hint of calmness as he unraveled the tale you had woven so delicately inside of you, keeping your relationship carefully held together with threads criss-crossing every which way.
“There is and we both know it," he spat back. "Jake knows it too. Even Danny and Adele fucking know it, Danny could see it on your face the second you turned and laid your eyes on Jake. And now you have no choice, isn't that what they say? It's inevitable?”
You could have hit him for making you face it.
"Maybe it's not!"
"Then why did you want it so badly with Josh?" He saw through your paper-thin lie instantly. "You're telling me now you're choosing not to believe it has to be this way?"
"Nothing happened, Sam. Stay out of it." You struggled to keep your voice down but Sam didn't even seem to be trying.
"You told me you didn't know what happened. I believed you."
"Sam," you warned dangerously, feeling that familiar spark of anger that flowed through you so deliciously. You didn't want to hurt him again, not if you could help it.
He leaned in closer, speaking his words in a hushed but urgent whisper. "I can't ignore this any more than you can."
"Yes, you could," you pleaded, "if you would just please-"
"You're not hearing me," he snapped, the words almost silent as he grabbed your arm and pulled you into him.
You didn't fight it. You only met his eyes, the anger having subsided for the moment as you took in his face. You realized it in the honey brown of his beautifully droopy eyes, always so filled with expression you could never distinguish until now. He was hurt.
"You're going to give up everything for him anyway so just do it already," he breathed. "Make this less painful than it has to be. Please."
You weren't sure what you would have done had Jake not entered the kitchen to see Sam's hand holding your bicep with a bruising force, even for all your strength.
"What the fuck is going on?"
When he heard Jake's voice, Sam's hand fell back to his side and he retreated several steps. His face turned expectant as he waited for you to give the answer he knew Jake didn't need. It was like he just wanted to hear you say it but not the way Danny had. It felt vindictive.
"Nothing." If it hadn't been for the super hearing, your single word answer might have been impossible to hear. But the scoff Sam let out in return was far less quiet.
"Everyone in this fucking house seems to think they can keep secrets from me."
"Sam," his brother let out a warning similar to the one you had uttered and it seemed to exasperate the youngest.
"Oh what, you don't want to talk about it either? At least Danny had the fucking decency to not try and hide it from me."
His eyes were scathing on yours and you might have cried had the anger bubbling up inside of you not prevented those tears, effectively evaporating them before they could cascade down your skin.
"Sam, that's enough!" Jake held his arm out to his brother, his palm resting on his chest like he was holding him back from leaping at you.
That was the scene Josh had walked in on, dripping wet from his shower cut short. It was a scene impossible to explain away without being honest.
“What is happening?” he asked. He already looked concerned and part of you wondered how much he had even needed to hear to piece it together.
Sam and Jake exchanged a glance, and you were caught looking between them, hoping no one would say anything.
When Josh received nothing but silence, he spoke your name. Your eyes snapped to his, brimming with hot tears, but still you said nothing. It was like your mouth had been taped shut. You couldn't bring yourself to say it.
“Somebody tell me what’s going on now," he demanded finally, looking irritated and like he was losing composure by the second.
And finally, it was Sam who broke the silence.
“Jake has found himself his soul tie.”
“That’s not funny, Sam,” Josh answered without any pause.
Sam kept his eyes on you when he answered.
“No. It’s not.”
He looked at you the same way he had the first day he had met you. Loathing.
“It’s not true,” you whispered.
God, you couldn't even grace Josh with a look. Instead, he turned to Jake, pleading with him.
“Please tell me it’s not true.”
Jake met him with the same silence the rest of you had practically bludgeoned him with. It somehow knocked you out of your staring contest with Sam. Josh was your boyfriend, after all. Didn't you have any fight in you?
“Tell him it’s not true," you suddenly pleaded with Jake, turning to grip his arm. "Tell him I don’t feel anything for you!”
When he met your eyes, desperation-filled, he only looked sympathetic.
“You may not now, but you will.”
“No. No, I won’t. How dare you. How dare you-” The first was directed at Jake but the second was directed at Sam.
You flung your body at him, the physical urge to hurt him, not with your gifts but with your own two hands, overwhelming. It was Jake who caught you and stopped you, Jake who flooded your body with a fatigue you hadn't felt since you had been human, and one that lulled you into a sleep-like state in his arms and against your will.
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Text
His Love
|Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|
Part Ten
Master List of Series
Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.
Author's Note: You would laugh when I tell y'all the hours I spent trying to study High Valyrian and make sure I used proper grammar. Because, like... who does that?? I still don't think I used correct grammar and sentence structure, but who's going to know? This chapter takes place over a few years. I wanted to clarify that ahead of time in case of any questions. I also wanted to say that the woman depicted in the cover art is not necessarily what I imagine the main character to look like. She has black hair like her mother, and she's not conventionally skinny. She has a semi-muscular but broad body due to her training, and her eyes are as described. Other than that, the MC can be whatever you picture. xD ANYWAYS... Thank you so much for your continued support as we embark on this journey together. It means so much to me.
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Chapter Warnings: Gaslight, gatekeep, girl boss, time jumps, italics equal High Valyrian when speaking.
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"I survive off the idea that one day my rage will be witnessed by the men who poisoned me with it in the first place." - Maya G. Wolf, Being A Woman.
Prince Daemon was excited when you arrived at Dragonstone. He dreamed of having a son of his own. One to train and spar with. Though he loved Baela and Rhaena, they were not encouraged to take up the sword, nor did they want to. Rhaenyra's sons, Jacaerys and Lucerys, were trained in swordsmanship but were less committed than Daemon would have preferred. They had much heavier things to worry about, like ruling entire kingdoms.
You were the only child in Dragonstone with no future prospects. You had no claims to land. None would be passed down to you as everything was already set to your father's true-born daughters. It did not matter if you were the eldest and held the most seniority. You were a bastard, and bastards were nothing but a stain on noble houses. You were lucky even to be allowed into the same wing as your father's family.
Even though you were a smudge on the Targaryen name, the Targaryens treated you as anything but and welcomed you with open arms and hearts. You were hesitant, at first, to accept their love, only clinging to a man you shared a slither of a connection with.
It became Daemon's project to integrate you into the family. It was what gave him joy in the never-ending days tucked away at Dragonstone. Furious at the world and everything around her, he transformed an angry girl into a warrior.
He saw you reborn through his gruesome training, sand melted and forged into glass. The lessons he taught began to shine through as time progressed. You eventually viewed those curly-mop-headed boys as your brothers and Rhaenyra, your mother. The family became the most important thing to you, your love for each stored close within your heart. You all were that each other had.
You had heard the rumors that plagued Rhaenyra and her children concerning their lineage. It was surprising how much people would let slip around the "bastard of Daemon Targaryen." You could not help but feel a sense of empathy for them. You needed to protect one another from the world, from the cruel whispers that trailed not too far behind each of you.
But if one of your brothers decided to pull your hair one more time when you weren't paying attention... the Stranger would have two more souls to guide.
***
You and Daemon had developed a routine here on the sandy beaches of Dragonstone.
You would run in the morning when the sun had not risen yet, and the wind still held the same damp, nightly chill in the air. He would send you around the inner grounds of the castle, then up and down the many rocky and steep hills leading to Dragonmont, and finally, around the beaches, where he would begin your proper training.
"A warmup," he would call it as you vomited on the shore, panting like a dog the first dozen times you did it.
He pushed you, sometimes too far, you thought, when you screamed, exhausted with tears in your eyes. Daemon would always say the same thing every time you nearly gave up.
"When you are at your lowest, stand back up, and spit in the face of your enemy. They will not take pity when they see your weakness. They will kill you. Do not let them get the chance." You could not argue with his logic, your pride beginning to mirror his over time. Weakness was never an option for a bastard in the House of the Dragon.
Within years, your limbs were not the soft linear sticking of bone they once were but toned, strong, and sturdy from the many bags of grain you carried. Your body no longer reflected the malnourished peasant girl but a warrior, the likes of which no one had seen since Queen Visenya.
***
"Tell me again, Maester Gerardys, of the dragons here on this island," you asked sweetly, resting your jaw on your palm.
You wanted to hear about something other than the hierarchy and the politics of the North, your mind entirely elsewhere. You knew that if you batted your lashes enough, the Maester would forget about today's lesson.
"Well, Princess, we have had many over the years, but currently, there are your family's dragons. Caraxes, ridden by your father. Syrax by your mother. Vermax by your younger brother Prince Jacaerys, and Arrax by the second youngest, Prince Lucerys." You nodded along, seeming to care about the claimed dragons honestly.
"I heard rumors from the servants of several unclaimed dragons. Ones that steal the common folk's livestock and another that is so silver that it blends into the sea mist. What of those?" You pouted your lips slightly when you talked, leaning forward in your palm.
"Ah, yes. There are wild dragons that reside on the island. Some are in the cliffs overlooking the port, Dragonmont, or in other hidden caves where we cannot find them." You smirked slightly, appearing to have no ulterior motives in the conversation. "There are three riderless dragons. Seasmoke, which belonged to the late Lord Laenor Velaryon, Silverwing, who belonged to Queen Alysanne, Vermithor, who belonged to Jaehaerys Targaryen, your second Great Grandsire. Vermithor resides inside the Dragonmont and has a large body of bronze. They called him the Bronze Fury, and oh, was he a sight to see in the skies! The way the sun would shine on his scales was magnificent!"
Maester Gerardys shook his head, smiling to himself and getting rid of the memory of the beautiful beast. "There are three wild dragons which have been attempted to be claimed, but none have ever succeeded. They are nasty, those three. And should you ever come across them, run in the other direction."
He began to turn back around, beginning to continue the lesson from before. You couldn't let him finish; you still had many more questions.
"What do those wild dragons look like," you quickly asked, almost showing a worrying amount of enthusiasm.
The Maester swallowed, returning to you as you display your best puppy dog eyes. You knew they were his greatest weakness—the brown orbs reflected in the candlelight, the small ring of violet shining around your pupil.
"Gods, be good," he whispered, clasping his hands behind his back.
"The first is Grey Ghost, the one you heard the servants talking about. He has a pale coloring to his scale and almost becomes invisible when he flies within the sea mist. He does not bother the smallfolk much, leaving for long periods. The second is Sheepstealer. He is a real nuisance to the smallfolk, always snatching any mutton he can wrap his teeth around from here to Driftmark and Wendwater. " You nodded along, urging him to keep talking until you had every drop of knowledge one could obtain.
"The worst one, Princess, is Cannibal. He is said to be as black as coal and has green eyes that would scare the most battle-hardened of men. He is the largest of all three wild dragons and by far the most dangerous, feasting on his fellow species. His den is said to be covered in the bones of those who have attempted to claim him."
Maester Garardys was worried he might have scared the poor Princess with the discussion of the fearsome dragons, but when he looked at your face, your features showed no fear. You had a slight grin gracing your flushed skin, your eyes bright, and your mind hanging onto every word he said.
"Where does Cannibal reside, Maester?" You questioned eagerly, forgetting yourself.
He squinted his eyes momentarily, unsure if he should give you the answer considering your demeanor. "He resides in the back of the Dragonmont on the eastern side." He began to turn away but stopped, feeling uneasy. "Princess, why do you have a sudden interest in the dragons here on the island? We had a lesson on them barely a fortnight ago, and if you do not mind me saying, you seemed somewhat disinterested in it."
Your smile did not falter momentarily, a lie quickly finding its way onto your tongue.
"I had decided to do some extra reading on my family's history in my spare time and was somewhat confused about which dragon was where, who rode what, and what they looked like. There is so much for me to learn," you fidgeted in your seat, wringing your hands, "and my brothers have such an advantage on me with having you as their teacher for their whole life... I feel very inadequate compared to them."
Maester Garardys gave you a pitying look that made your blood boil as you continued your defeated expression. "Oh, Princess, do not be too hard on yourself," he cooed. "This is not a traditional education that women like yourself get, but your father insisted you be taught the same as your brothers. I will remember for the next lesson to take more time with you."
"Thank you, Maester Garardys," you said, feigning bashfulness as your nails dug into your palms. The urge to jump over the wooden table that separated you and punch that soft-hearted look off his face was strong, but you held fest, continuing the doltish girl act. "If it would not be too much, ser, could you please not tell my father about what we discussed? I do not want him to think I am incapable of doing what he assigned me."
"Of course, Princess," he smiled kindly as if he was talking to some simple-minded fool and not a growing woman with the compacity to understand simple subjects.
Finally, he returned to the original lesson, speaking slower than before and explaining things in more detail than you thought necessary. You swallowed the anger threatening to spill past your lips as you adjust your posture.
You would show him. You would show all who thought the same as him how wrong they were about you. You were not to be spoken down to and underestimated, and you would make sure anyone who did would live to regret it. You were not some peasant girl with a fancy title; you were a Targaryen. You are the firstborn of Daemon Targaryen, the brother of the King, the husband of the heir to the Iron Throne, and they would do well to remember that.
***
You only had a few hours before someone would realize you were gone. You had told Rhaenyra that you were nursing a severe headache after your training with Daemon today and could not participate in your daily embroidery lesson for the afternoon. She, of course, understood, knowing how her uncle could be if left on his own with a sword and a weaker opponent.
There was only a slightly guilty feeling in your chest as you lied to her.
Years of the gruesome time your father had put you through paid off as you snuck past countless guards and servants, using the hidden passages within Dragonstone's walls to escape. There were no maps of the caverns inside Dragonmont, which left you nothing but the information Maester Garardys gave you and your instincts to guide you.
The first half was easy, you told yourself. You only needed to sneak inside Syrax's lair and steal an egg. Daemon had come boasting not too long ago about how the she-dragon had laid a new clutch of eggs, a sign that his "Targaryen seed was strong" and your mother was surely with child again. You felt bad that you could be taking a dragon away from one of your future siblings, but you only needed one, nothing more. Indeed they would survive if you just took one.
Syrax was nowhere to be found as you silently crept into her den, placing the torch you had for light in an empty holder. You sighed in relief as you gazed upon six eggs laid on a pile of sand she had made, a nest to keep them warm. Plenty would be left. You smiled as you stuffed an egg inside your satchel, positioning it with your other supplies.
The low rumble of heavy steps shook the ground, signaling that Syrax was most likely returning from where ever she was, and you needed to get the Seven Hells out of there. You cursed the Gods for this unfortunate timing, snatching your torch and scrambling out of the cave and in the opposite direction of the cold-blooded animal.
You ran further into the darkened caves, the idiotic nature of your plans finally coming to fruition as you realized you were lost. You could feel the panic beginning to rise in your chest, your breathing speeding up. Tears pricked at your eyes, and you stumbled, dropping your only light source and tearing the seam of your dress as you fell onto the rocky ground. You cried out in pain, your body forcing the tears to fall against your will as you wiped at your face.
"You will not be weak," you said, echoing along the warm stone. "You are not weak," you gritted out again, digging your palms into your eye sockets.
You yanked your arms away, readying to push yourself up and continue your quest as you opened your eyes. Standing over you in the dim lighting was a creature as black as night, its scales reflecting off your lost torch as a rush of hot air wafted your cheeks. Cannibal's piercing green eyes stared back at you, his pupils dilating as he scanned your frightened form.
Quickly, you moved to create a safe enough distance between you and the beast, wincing as you noticed the blood dripping down your shin. He tilted his head at you, seeming confused to see such a small and pathetic thing so far back into Dragonmont as he stepped closer. You grabbed the egg faster than Cannibal could move and placed it between you and the dragon, offering peace between two isolated individuals. He proceeded instantly, walking over to your discarded torch and consuming the egg in one bite, bits of shell flinging across the cave floor.
The fallen torch illuminated his body over top of the light. Rows of black horns protruded along his head and neck, teeth the size of your forearm glistening with yolk. His feet had shiny black claws that could slice a man in half. He was not the majestic creature that songs were sung about. He was a monster. A monster you would scare a child with so that they would come home on time.
No one would think you were weak with a dragon such as him by your side. They would all cower away as the Bastard Princess sat atop her Cannibal dragon. It was divine fate that brought you to this moment, face to face with the most dangerous dragon in all the realm. A creature that many men had tried to claim, but all failed, their bones scattered across his den. 
You were no man.
Courage filled your limbs as you stepped closer to him, your chin held high as you took about another item you had brought. You had stolen pork legs on your way to the caverns, the kitchen maids too preoccupied with other tasks to see a cloaked figure hiding amongst the shadows. You took a deep breath, holding the first leg out as Cannibal's nostrils flared at the smell.
"Dohaerās (serve)," you commanded, and the dragon stared, unmoving. "Māzīs naejot (come forward)," you tried, insecurity creeping into your mind when he did not move. "Māzīs," you repeated, with more force, still holding the pig leg before you. "Māzīs naejot issa (come to me)," you barked.
You knew this would take some time, but surely, waiving a piece of raw meat in front of a dragon named Cannibal would yield quicker results. Still, he ignored you, his head lowering to the ground as he sniffed it, beginning to lick it.
"What in the Seven Hells are you doing?" You questioned, exasperated as you stepped closer to him.
At speed too quick for a dragon of his size, his head snapped up, his green eyes becoming black as a low growl came from his chest, looking as if he would charge at any second; you threw the leg and retreated. Once again, he swallowed it in one bite, returning to the same spot on the ground.
You looked closer, forcing your eyes to adjust in the darkness as you realized that was the spot where you fell, seeing the dried blood. Your body was faster than your mind, swiftly finding the dagger Daemon had gifted you for your first name day with him and cutting your hand, smearing your blood on the raw meat. Finally, did you have Cannibal's full attention, his nostrils flaring as he smelled the air.
You steeled yourself again, holding the pork out.
"Māzīs (come)," you demanded proudly. He snarled, the sound booming inside your ears as you repeated yourself.
You could sense his anger at this tiny creature believing she could command him, and when you repeated a third time, his patience wore thin. Cannibal inhaled, his throat grumbling as you saw him lift his head and open his mouth. You were not an idiot. You knew what came next, seeing it countless times with Caraxes, but with nowhere to run, you stared at the bright orange flames.
***
The sound of clinking silverware and laughter echoed in the dining hall of Dragonstone, even with one less member of the family. Jace had butchered a Valerian pronunciation, Rhaenyra attempting to stifle her laughter, and even Damon chuckling in amusement. Everything was going normal, each person blissfully unaware of the Princess deep inside Dragonmont.
"Mother," Luke spoke during a lull in the conversation, "could I bring sister some dinner?" No one had seen you since high noon, not wanting to bother you while being ill.
"I am sure she would love that, sweet boy," she said gently. Rhaenyra smiled, nodding to Luke and motioning him to come in for a quick kiss before going to your chambers. He proceeded on the usual route to your apartments but stopped short as he looked down at the plate the servants had prepared for you. 
Luke knew how much you loved sweets, sneaking him and Jace under the rouse of them wanting something in the kitchens and not you. Both boys would always play along with whatever schemes their rebellious half-sister thought of for the day. Either racing across the halls and seeing who was the fastest, playing with wooden swords inside the castle, or putting pins on her Septa's chair if she was a "particular cunt" that day.
Lucerys went down the small passage leading to the kitchens rounding the corner with your plate of cooling food still in his hands as he surveyed the freshly baked trays of pastries. He could not decide which ones you would like more. Sadly, nothing with apples was made.
"Could I help ya' young prince?" An older woman asked, her gown a drab grey woolen color and a white bonnet on her head.
"Oh yes," the young boy answered, slightly startled by her sudden presence. "My sister is not feeling well this evening, and I wanted to bring her some dessert to help her recover."
The woman hummed, nodding in agreement as she missed tying off her stained apron. "That's a mighty fine idea, my prince. May I help ye' in yer selection?"
"Oh, yes," he repeated, "her favorite is apples, but I cannot seem to find anything with some."
"Ah. Apples are not in season at the moment, so our imports of them have been scarce, but I'll see what I can do for the young Miss. I am sure we'll have some somewhere."
The woman began her search for the fruit wandering off into small rooms and digging through random barrels until she found what she was looking for. "Do you know what the lady prefers?" She questioned as she began to rinse the red fruit.
"I believe she likes something called apple muse. I think that is how she called it," he said, unsure. The woman nodded again and smiled as she gathered some bowls, pitchers, and utensils.
"She's a girl after me own heart," the lady commented, peeling the apples. "We eat this all the time for dessert, and it's very easy. I'll be done faster than a crow's fly."
Luke smiled and sat on a stool to watch the woman work, picturing your joyful face when he brought you the food.
***
Luke finally reached your grand oak doors, knocking with his free hand. You were not feeling good, so he knocked again and opened the door, calling out your name. You did not answer, which he wasn't surprised about. He still had the same grin, excited and happy to do something nice for his sister.
"I have brought you some dinner," he said gleefully. "It is your favorite. I even had one of the servants make you some Apple Muse." Still, you did not answer as Lucerys moved further into your apartments.
Your seamstress hid hints of the Targaryen crest throughout the different items in your entry room. Black and red decorated every fabric with curtains to match. Leather-bound books and armor were thrown haphazardly on velvet chairs and benches. No doubt you had told your maids you would clean it up later.
He figured you would be in your bed chambers, knocking again on a smaller door as he entered. He nearly dropped the plate he had put some much heart into when he saw your empty bed, the sheets undisturbed from when they were made early this morning.
Swiftly, he sat the food onto a nearby stand, ringing the bell for your maids. Within moments three women came up, surprised to see the young Prince Lucerys instead of their Princess. They all bowed, one readying to speak before she was cut off.
"Where is my sister," he asked quickly.
"We are not sure, Your Grace. She has not returned since her bath after training," the one he believed was called Edith said.
"How do you mean? She must be here," he denied, panicked. She told my mother she was retiring in the evening due to a headache."
The three girls looked at each other, each bewildered and confused. "I am sorry, Your Grace, but we have not seen her since then."
Luke nodded curtly, hurrying out of your rooms and back to the dining hall, his red pants swishing with each step. He would catch the rest of his family leaving if he were fast.
He ran past servant after servant, dodging some carrying stacks of linen, some with brooms and dusters, and others he bumped into without apologizing. Luke felt betrayal in his chest, his heart cracking into pieces as his eyes began to water. His young mind went to the worst possibilities, remembering how you told him of the terrible punishment to your former Aunt and handmaid for trying to abduct you. Perhaps someone else from your old life attempted it again? That would be the only reason you would lie.
How could you leave them? They were your family. They loved you. He loved you.
He sprinted blindly, wiping at his eyes as he ran into a warm body, instantly recognizing the floral smell.
"My sweet boy, what is the matter?" Rhaenyra asked kindly, stroking her second son's curly hair.
"It's Sissy," he cried, reverting to the old name he called you before Jace teased him. "She is not in her rooms, and-and none of her maids have seen her!"
"Calm, Lucerys. Take a deep breath and tell me again," Rhaenyra said calmly, with a nurturing, motherly tone.
"I went to give Sissy her food, but she is not in her rooms, and her servants said they have not seen her! I think they took her! Like before," Luke cried into his mother's thick skirts.
"Why do you think she was taken, Lucerys? Perhaps she is just along the beaches resting as she as done before?" Luke couldn't argue with her reasoning, but he still could not help but feel a sense of worry. She gave him a wry smile, looking over to her husband, who had a concentrated look on his face, his eyebrows creased.
Before Daemon or Rhaenyra could think of their next move, a Kingsguard ran toward them, their polished armor clanking.
"Princess," he nodded to Rhaenyra, still out of breath. "Prince Daemon. We believe in having spotted the young Princess on the eastern cliffs of Dragonmont," the knight known as Ser Steffon paused, glancing at the floor momentarily before looking back at Daemon, "naked and riding a dragon."
Rhaenyra's eyes widened in shock, covering her mouth as she went to grab her husband's hand. He took it without hesitance, squeezing it reassuringly as he pulled her closer. Jace and Luke both made disgusted faces at the mention of their sister without clothes, their true maturity showing no matter how righteous they tried to act.
"I will mount Caraxes," Daemon declared, his voice becoming what he used in war. "Gather serval knights, Ser Steffon, and alert the Dragonkeepers."
"I will go with you, father," Jacaerys interjected, puffing his chest out proudly.
"No," he said with finality, "Vermax is still not fully grown, and you do not have proper control over him yet. It would be too dangerous."
"But-" Jace pleaded before Daemon cut him off with a wave of his hand, rushing to his dragon. Jace stepped back dejectedly, nodding his head as his eyes fell to the floor.
***
The wind tore through your hair, ripping it out of its pinned style. Water leaked from your eyes as Cannibal flew through the skies at lightning speed. You held onto the horns on his back for dear life, your palms sliding as he did a sharp turn. The air was freezing on your bare skin, but the adrenaline pumping through your veins kept you warm.
The black dragon had been soaring wildly through the orange skies, accelerating to altitudes where you thought you might lose consciousness before he suddenly dipped back down. You had forgotten the commands you had memorized in High Valyrian, more focused on not falling to your death and having your family find your crushed, naked dead body.
Your mind was still reeling from the fact that you were alive. Cannibal had bathed you in his dragon fire, burned every inch of clothing on your body, and even melted the dagger your father had gifted you. But you were alive. You were still alive. A dragon had breathed its fire on you, and you lived. You had only heard fables of something like this happening. You did not believe it yourself. Experiencing the contents of myths and legends was not something you thought possible.
Suddenly, Cannibal made a sharp turn causing your body to slip to one side and dangle as he righted himself. He was a wild and untamed beast, possessing the stamina of a Dornish sand steed and taking you to places you did not want him to go. You knew if you did not gain control of him soon, everything would be for naught as he brought you close to the blue waters of the Narrow Sea, his spiked wings cutting through.
"Dohaerās (serve)," you shouted over the wind whistling in your ears, but Cannibal did not listen. "Dohaeragon aōha kipagīros (Serve your rider)!" As if he was trying to defy you, he started to ascend, his body a near verticle line as he flew towards the sky.
You realized you could not direct him from where you were sitting, making the split-second decision to use the horns along his spine as a ladder to reach his head. He began to straighten out, acting as if he was just going to glide across the fluffy yellow-tinted clouds, but then, he suddenly dipped, descending to the water below at blinding speeds. You were sure you felt like an insect crawling on his back, pesky and annoying as it moved just before you could swat it.
You grabbed the horns on his skull, leaning all your weight backward to stop your fast descent. Cannibal released a thundering roar, furious that someone would try to control him as he shifted to his side, his wings pointing above and below. You grabbed the horns on his skull, leaning all your weight backward to stop your fast descent. You captured the horns on his skull, leaning all your weight backward to stop your rapid decline. You held steadfast, shifting your weight in the opposite direction he went. He repeated the same tactic, moving too much into your opposing grip and rocking you back and forth.
"Nyke emagon claimed ao, zaldrīzes. Nyke aōha kipagīros, se ao līs dohaeragon issa lest īlon both morghūljagon! (I have claimed you, dragon. I am your rider, and you must serve me lest we both die!)" You screamed into the air, counteracting his next attempt to shake you off.
A piercing screech cut through the skies, both you and Cannibal turning your heads to where it came from. You had no doubt who it was. Your family had most likely discovered your absence and decided to send your father after you. Fear rushed over you as you saw the Blood Wyrm cut his way through the clouds, its skin a terrifying granite of red and black, your father's lean body sitting atop it.
Cannibal moved to turn and face Caraxes, known to have a deep aversion to other dragons; he no doubt would try to kill him and your father in the process.
"Daor (No)," you bellowed as you countered his attempt, jerking his head in the opposite direction. "Udrāzmī ao rȳbagon naejot issa (You obey my commands)." You leaned down into what you assumed was his ear, "Tegon, sir (Land, now)."
Cannibal slowed. You could sense he was thinking, debating whether or not he would win a fight against a battle-hardened dragon, and if he did win, would he even be worth the kill?
By an act of divine intervention, he moved, descending at slower speeds than he had before, succumbing to the power of a tiny girl. He landed on the southern shores, his breath releasing small puffs of smoke. 
Cannibal lowered his head, which startled you, but you tried not to let him see as you climbed off the dragon. Your hand slid along his neck feeling his blood pulsing in his throat as your eyes locked onto one another. You wanted to thank him for letting you be the one to break him but could not find the proper word. He let out a low sound, not quite a purr, but you knew he could sense how you felt as he turned away, his green eyes blinking slowly.
Your father and his dragon landed on the same beach, far enough away that Cannibal wouldn't feel threatened but still too close for his liking. He didn't recognize Daemon as a threat as he walked towards you carrying something in his arms.
You had prepared yourself for his harsh words before you even set foot inside Dragonmont. Nothing he could say would make you falter. You slinked out from behind Cannibal's large body, your chin held high and your hands clasped behind you proudly.
"You are naked," he said blandly, scanning your body with a judgemental smirk.
You gasped, all your mental preparation from before crumbling as you remembered your current attire, attempting to cover your body. Daemon laughed, throwing the bundle he had in his arms toward you. You raised your eyebrows at the pair of brown trousers with a shirt to match, questioning if that was really what he wanted you to wear.
"Come," he motioned his head, and you followed. "You have claimed a dragon in which there is much to learn. Though I am happy," he spoke leisurely, kicking the sand with his boots, "your mother is not. I suspect you will deal with a great tongue-lashing once we return to the castle."
You sighed through your nose, the sound blending into the folding waves on the shore, pursing your lips as you nodded. "It is easier to seek forgiveness than ask for permission," you quipped, pulling up the pants he had given you.
He laughed softly, smiling as you struggled to keep up with him in clothes two times your size.
In truth, Daemon was still shaken. The moment that Lucerys had come running back from your rooms with tears in his eyes he panicked, his mind going to the worst places imaginable. He did not believe you would go willingly if someone from your past life had managed to sneak their way onto Dragonstone. He knew you had found comfort in your current life. Your indulgences for the finer aspects told him all he needed to know, but he could still sense the reservations whenever Rhaenyra would display an array of gowns when a Lord arrived. Though they may have been small, the habits of your old life were still there. He just didn't know how much was left.
Despite how terrified he was near moments ago, Daemon displayed nothing of the sort. Laughing and teasing his dragon rider daughter as you walked toward the castle. He was giddy that there was another aspect he could add to your daily training and could barely contain his excitement of eventually seeing your frustrated face when things didn't go as you wanted.
It was another challenge he could guide you through as your father, doing what his mother did for him and making up for the years he did not know of your existence. How he wished he could return to the past and change things. So many things...
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I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter! I feel like it was pretty controversial for me to choose the Cannibal as the reader's dragon, but out of all the options that she had, I feel like this resembles her the most. I'm sorry about the no Aegon, but we gotta bring some juice to the story. Some meat and potatoes, if you will.
The main character I created is strong. She's raw, visceral, the feeling of triumph when you cross the finish line and win the race. She's the rage you have bottled up throughout your entire life from everyone telling you to contain your emotions, act a certain way, and accept the wrong you have been a victim of. And Cannibal is the only dragon I feel canonically embodies the same fucking rage and power the reader has.
Well, I may have given you too much info on the reader that you could figure out on your own as you read.
I also wanted to say that, canonically, the Targaryen's are not fire proof. We've seen them get burnt to death by dragon fire and just regular fire. The MC only survived because she inadvertently used blood magic and sacrificed a dragon egg. So, sadly, she is not fire proof. She's just lucky. It would be cool if the Targaryen's were tho!
Tagged Peeps: @zeennnnnnn, @malfoytargaryen, @targaryencore, @justasmallbean, @alexandra-001, @buckysmainhxe-deactivated202303, @omgsuperstarg, @sommornyte, @minttea07, @silverslive, @unclecrunkle, @prettykinkysoul, @duesobabe, @djlexi, @ynbutbetter, @honestlykat, @graykageyama, @legolas017, @iiamthehybrid, @brezzybfan,@dd122004dd, @ladybug0095, @millies0bsimp, @kalfilit, @sheislonelyalways, @tempt-ress, @bellameshipper, @minttea07, @trikigirl271, @esposadomd, @buckylahey, @justarandomflowerchildofthenight, @partypoison00, @please-buckme, @pastelorangeskies, @joliettes, @existential-echo, @iiamthehybrid, @priyajoyy, @valaenatargaryensdragon, @merovingianprincess, @rachelnicolee,@sunny-boy-06 
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slavghoul · 1 year
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Short interview with Joe & Tobias from Rolling Stone l’Hebdo n°113
They've been listening to each other for years, but Joe Elliott (Def Leppard) and Tobias Forge (Ghost) only recently met to record a new collaborative version of the hit 'Spillways'. The connection was immediate. The two musicians show that despite the generation that separates them, their passion and talent are in tune.
Joe Elliott: The intro to "Spillways" reminded me of "Jane" by Jefferson Starship or "Hold The Line" by Toto. That's what I like! When I joined my band, I had the whole legacy of The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, The Who, who had the rock in them, but they never forgot the melody. "Spillways" is for me the perfect hybrid of what people expect from Ghost and what they don't.
Tobias Forge: I was partly formed with underground extreme metal, where the music is more atonal, loud, brutal and fast, that's why Ghost has this evil aura about it. But I also grew up with AOR. Ghost combines those two elements. I wanted Ghost to be like a 70's band trying to create music that was futuristic and scary at the same time. I love "Jane" by Jefferson Starship. I play it on the drums as part of my gig prep routine.
Joe Elliott: I remember when I discovered this song. In the UK, as a young adult, we didn't have rock on the radio, apart from a show on Friday nights between 10pm and midnight when no one was listening, and on Sunday afternoons when everyone was away at the football match. "Jane" made the top 40, not many rock songs have had that. As well as being a great single, "Jane" is an exemplary vocal performance!
Tobias Forge: I never saw myself as a singer, I became one by force of circumstance...
Joe Elliott: Me too!
Tobias Forge: Of course, I love punk and other less vocally demanding music, but one of the things that makes AOR stand out from the crowd is the incredible talent of the singers, whether it's bands like Journey, Foreigner, Kansas...
Joe Elliott: It turns out that my favourite singers aren't really singers, but they get their talent from their interpretation of the lyrics. Steve Walsh from Kansas could sing the phone book, but my favorites are the ones that make my hair stand on end, like lan Hunter, Joe Strummer, Michael Monroe... These guys may be screamers, but they know how to interpret the lyrics. When "School's Out" came out, people wondered if Alice Cooper was singing or barking. When asked what I wanted to do, I said I wanted to be somewhere between Phil Mogg, Bon Scott, Phil Lynott and Gary Holton, with influences from Alice Cooper and Johnny Rotten. We can't all be Freddie Mercury. When I listen to myself on the album On Through The Night (1980), I hear a guy drowning. He does his best, but he doesn't have it all together. Mutt Lange later helped me to find my voice, and from then on I was on my way, it just took me longer than most singers. But you Tobias, you can sing! To hell with humility!
Tobias Forge: I think half the work comes from being comfortable with your voice. I've learned to love working with it. My "hit radar" doesn't always work, sometimes there's that magic moment when a song screams that it's going to be a hit. This was the case with "Spillways" or "Square Hammer". But "Cirice" wasn't originally intended to be a hit, I wanted to make it more progressive. When I played it to my daughter, she said it was her favourite. That's how the song was redesigned as a single, which got us a Grammy! Success is very hard to determine when you're writing, it's the audience that decides. On the other hand, I couldn't understand why "Mary On A Cross" didn't do so well. But in the end, it just took it a little longer.
Joe Elliott: We all say to each other in Def Leppard, "In a parallel world, this song would be a hit". It turns out that nowadays, hits don't happen the way they did in our time. It used to be that you'd make a single, it'd get picked up, played on the radio, and then you'd make a video for it and it'd be on MTV. Everything has changed since then. It just so happens that the Bank Of Dave movie has completely resurrected our song "Kick". When we did that song, we knew it was going to be the first single from Diamond Star Halos. We felt the same way about "Fire It Up" (on the same album) and "This Guitar". We've never questioned our songwriting skills, which get better with time. Some of our big hits still leave us confused! (laughs) As Tobias said, we play some of our songs to our kids and if they say "play that one again", we're onto something. They know better because they have the heart, they don't calculate anything.
Tobias Forge: That's what I say to people who tell me they can't write a song. It doesn't matter, it's what you feel that counts. The Ramones wrote some very direct songs, but a lot of them weren't that successful. While ABBA wrote some pretty technical songs, a lot of them are pretty hard to play. They made their songs accessible, especially with the vocal melodies. A lot of people in pop say "don't make it too complicated". Yes, do make it complicated if the song demands it! You have to follow your instincts.
Joe Elliott: We musicians are a special breed. As soon as we started talking it was like we'd known each other for ten years. I also hope that one day we can sit down with our guitars and a bottle of wine and see what comes out.
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sebastianwallows · 1 year
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Moving on Together
Sebastian Sallow x Reader
Summary - Anon request for "I was wondering if you could do a female (hufflepuff if preference is alright) that has been friends with Sebastian and crew since first year and finally now it’s 7th year and as you both are about to leave and venture towards your future, he finally admits his feelings for her and then maybe a little epilogue and see what the future for this resident Slytherin and Hufflepuff end up in life (fluff with a little angst)"
Word Count - 1,0428
Warnings - none
7 years at Hogwarts had seemed like a whole extra lifetime for you. You were sure Sebastian, Ominis, Anne, they would all agree. You could remember your first year, being sorted into Hufflepuff and realizing everyone you had talked to on the train their was a Slytherin. You felt so dejected thinking they would probably never talk to you again. You tried to put on some strange air about yourself when you saw them in the hallway with the hoard of other Slytherins, sticking your chin out and crossing your arms.
However, Sebastian dropped everything and willingly walked straight out the group, yelling your name, "I didn't know when we would have time to talk about!" He pulled you into a hug, confused at why you were so stuff. "Why are you acting funny, it's so cool you got into Hufflepuff," he pouted.
The next few years were your years of letting Sebastian drag you into innocent trouble, sneaking into the library, out of your common rooms at night, just for no other reason than the exhilaration of rule breaking. That, and you couldn't deny being soft on Sebastian. You were loyal to a fault and would probably do just about anything he asked as a young teenager, being happy to let his sweaty palms drag you through the hallways because that meant he was touching you.
Everyone around you two could see you pining away and Sebastian progressively making more of a fool of himself to impress you or get your attention. You passed notes around in class and made faces at each other when you weren't right beside one another. And yet you both were helplessly unaware.
During your 5th year things got serious and Sebastian kept you in the loop as long as he could, but he couldn't bear to drag you into what him and the new student were up to. You were jealous and you couldn't hide that. You didn't understand why he would let you help him on his quest for Anne, unless it was because he wanted to be alone with the new student and couldn't help himself.
You didn't feel like you could blame him either. They were a prodigy. They came right in as if they had spent their whole life in your world, but they had just started. And they were easy on the eyes as well, everyone noticed that, so of course Sebastian would.
You and Ominis got much closer that year, both having been cast aside and disregarded. You shared information and he tried to assure you he didn't think it was anything romantic, but that it was so much worse. You wanted Sebastian to let you in, to let you be there if he was going to do something stupid, you were often times the only thing able to pull him back, but it was too late.
He came back to you a broken mess. Ominis and Anne wanted nothing to do with him, he forced you to harbor his awful secret, but trusted you not to turn against him. In that way he used you to dump all of his wrongdoings on, he knew you wouldn't walk away from him.
You babied him through the intense depression he was in. You took care of him by making sure he cared for himself. It all had your heart aching because you knew he wouldn't be in any kind of shape to confess your feelings to for a long time.
Through the hurt, shame, and guilt of it all you became his rock and bottled up your feelings. Slowly he eased into routine with you, some of his old self peeking through. He lightened up and would sneak out with you to look at the stars, watch mooncalves, find the dirtiest spellbook in the library.
Now it was your 7th year and you were scared of what was to come. You were scared of leaving with so many things unsaid. You had just finished a class where you got a lecture on the important of your futures and contributions to the magical world when you got a note that read, "Undercroft, after all this nonsense."
You rolled your eyes at his sentiment, definitely afraid he wasn't going to take his future seriously.
You met him in the Undercroft where it had grown cold and lonely, only seeing you and Sebastian anymore and it wasn't often. You saw him under the stone entryway, looking as if he was struggling to find a comfortable position to lean into and look cool, but you had caught him.
"Hey, is something going on?" You gave him a strange look as you walked over to where he stood looking nervous.
"I - I just wanted to see you, you know, see what you thought about all this bullshit about how important we are. As if we're not allowed to life our own lives of solitude."
"Sebastian, we do have to do something to have made the last 7 years worthwhile."
He tilted his head to look at you and you couldn't quite pinpoint what it meant. He took a step towards you, "Well, we've certainly had our adventures. Who are they to tell us what is and isn't worth it? I've met you. And I've never had anyone like you before."
He took to pacing around you as he talked, unable to look you in the eye, "I mean. I'm terrible, I can't control myself. I can't protect anyone, I always do all the wrong things to try and get what I want." He stopped in front of you and you tugged at his sleeve, willing him to spit out whatever it was he had going on. The way he sounded you were worried he was spiraling back into the depression again.
"But you're still here. I've hurt you, lied to you, and done nothing to redeem myself. But you're here and that's worth it to me."
You weren't sure what it was he was trying to say, he just stared down at your feet. You raised a finger a poked his chin up to make him look at you, "What is it your saying, Sebastian? That you just want to be working somewhere with me? Or - "
"I'll go anywhere with you. I don't just want to work with you," he gingerly cupped your face between his big hands, "I want to be with you. All of the time. All of our lives. I don't want you to leave and I'm not walking away ever again."
You felt hot, gears moving in your head as you processed his confession. "You mean, you mean like partners?"
"Partners, lovers, whatever you want to phrase it as. I'm tired of not giving a hundred percent of myself to you. I want you." With that he leaned forward to kiss you, you caught yourself staring at his closed freckled eyelids at first, stunned.
You fisted your hand against his robes pulling him close, you felt tears prick at your eyes. "I love you Sebastian, I want to be with you too."
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After you both finally confessed to each other, you spent a long time sharing embarrassing stories about times you each felt you did something that crossed a line because you thought the feelings were one sided.
You told each other, "Well if you had done that, I would have done this," and laughed at your own stupidity together.
It made the year go back quickly because you both had a joy that was new and never before felt. You couldn't plan a future together fast enough.
Sebastian wanted to marry you, if it wasn't too soon of course. You had spent years together of course, it wasn't as if you had just met. He had to marry you to show everyone that you were his and he was lucky to have a talented and loyal hufflepuff as his wife.
You talked careers and whether to chase lucrative opportunities or ones that would be fun and adventurous. You decided to lead the way to research more for what could be done to Anne. You would travel together all over the world to find out about others in her condition, if there were others who had such a curse.
You got licensed to apparate together, passed your NEWTs with flying colors to do whatever you wanted, and eloped shortly after you were both of age. You spent a few months still in school while you were married and it was a delicious secret you two kept.
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thejakeslayla · 6 months
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╰▸ ❝ melting ice ❞ 002 ⎯⎯ salchow ,, a park sunghoon written series
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synopsis; you put your everything into ice skating; blood, sweat and tears. unexpectedly you're being partnered with someone you despite, your number one rival - park sunghoon. together, you must overcome your grudges, navigate your differences and find a way to convey emotion on the ice. as you face this challenge, you discover hidden depths of him, leading you to question if there's more to your connection with sunghoon than just hatred and whether you can make this unlikely partnership work, potentially reshaping your career and the dynamics between them. little do you know that sunghoon never hated you.
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warnings: reader gets injured, arguments, profanity
Days turned into weeks, and you and Sunghoon found yourselves locked in a relentless cycle of practice. Daily sessions became a routine, yet the tension between you and Sunghoon only seemed to intensify. You both worked diligently on perfecting the throw triple loop, with the coach drilling you on every detail. It was an intricate move that demanded trust and synchronization. At first, the attempts were awkward and full of stumbles and falls, but with time, your coordination improved. It wasn't the most harmonious partnership, but you were making progress.
Despite your initial concerns, Sunghoon turned out to be a dedicated partner, putting in as much effort as you did. His resolved determination surprised you. As much as you disliked him, his precision and your grace created a unique blend and even if you wouldn’t like to think of him like that, each time you just found yourself pretty amused.
One chilly evening, you found yourselves alone at the rink, the bright arena lights casting an eerie glow on the ice. Sunghoon's mom had left for a work-related trip, and your mom had a prior commitment. It was just the two of you and the echoes of your blades cutting through the ice.
Sunghoon stopped, panting heavily. You noticed the sweat glistening on his brow, the strands of hair clinging to his forehead. You already tried multiple times to synchronise your step sequence, but each time one of you messed up.
He met your gaze, and for the first time in weeks, you didn't see hostility in his eyes. Instead, you saw determination and, perhaps, a hint of vulnerability. "Y/n," he said, his voice softer than you'd ever heard it, "I know we don't get along, but we have to make this work. Our future depends on it."
You stopped in your tracks, the ice beneath your skates glistening with a thin layer of frost. His words hung in the air, and for a moment, you considered his words. But then, you shook your head, a hint of disagreement in your eyes. "I appreciate your concern, Sunghoon, but I've made it this far on my own. I don't need you to determine my future."
Sunghoon's expression shifted, a mix of frustration and determination. "This isn't just about you, Y/n. Stop being so fucking selfish. We have a real chance to get into olympics, if we can put our differences aside."
You were filled with anger. "Put our differences aside? You've got to be fucking kidding me, Park. Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to even stand here next to you, let alone skate with you? I didn't ask for you to be my partner, and I’m fucking sure that I didn't ask for your pep talk. I've been working my entire life to get to this point, and I don't need you telling me what's at risk."
Sunghoon's voice suddenly rose, matching your frustration. "This isn't about forgetting, Y/n. It's about acknowledging that we're both skilled athletes, and if we channel that rivalry into our performance, we could be unstoppable."
Your jaw tightened. "Unstoppable? The only thing that's unstoppable is your ego."
With that biting remark, Sunghoon's anger peaked, and he abruptly turned away, storming off the rink. You were left seething, your own fury burning as hot as his.
After leaving the rink in a huff, Sunghoon couldn't shake off the frustration that had been building within him. He wandered aimlessly through the corridors of the training center, his mind filled with a whirlwind of emotions.
In the beginning, Sunghoon had viewed this partnership with you as an opportunity he couldn't pass up, but the reality of working with you had been far more challenging than he had ever imagined. The clash of your personalities and the weight of the long-standing (or should he say one-sided?) rivalry had tested his patience more than anything else in his skating career.
However, there was another layer to Sunghoon's frustration, one that he was unwilling to confront even in the depths of his own thoughts. He had watched you from afar for years, not only as a "rival" but as someone he greatly admired. Your grace on the ice, your dedication, and your unwavering commitment to the sport had drawn him in.
There had been moments when he had secretly hoped for the chance to work with you, to get to know you on a different level, and to prove himself not just as a “self-centred and cold as ice you skate on” athlete but as a partner. And now, with this unexpected opportunity, his longing to work with you had intertwined with the harsh reality of their situation.
As he approached the vending machines, he couldn't help but replay their argument in his mind. His frustration stemmed not only from the difficulties of the partnership but from the fear that he might lose this chance to get closer to someone he had admired for so long.
As Sunghoon retreated to cool off, you were on the rink, trying to focus on your skating, but the heated argument still echoed in your mind. Your determination got the best of you, and in a fit of frustration, you decided to attempt a triple axel – a move you hadn't mastered yet.
You executed the jump, the world spinning around you, but the landing was far from graceful. You hit the ice while still rotating, causing a harsh impact. Pain shot through your hip and ankle. You bit your lip, fighting back tears, but it was impossible to ignore the throbbing in your ankle.
Your heart pounded with pain and frustration, but you tried to push through it, determined not to give Sunghoon the satisfaction of seeing you vulnerable, as he might come back any second now. Gritting your teeth, you tried to stand, but the pain in your ankle was too much to bear.
And as if universe deeply hated you, he appeared.
Sunghoon entered the rink, the tension still hanging in the air. He immediately noticed that something was wrong, as you struggled to stand and make your way off the ice. He hurried over, concern replacing his anger, as he realized the seriousness of the situation.
"Y/n, are you okay?" Sunghoon asked, his voice echoing, genuine worry on his face.
You clenched your jaw, suppressing the pain in your ankle, and quickly replied, "I'm fine. I've had worse falls."
But Sunghoon wouldn't let it go. "Y/n, you don't look fine. Let me help you."
You hesitated, torn between the embarrassment of showing your vulnerability to your rival and the throbbing pain in your ankle. Sunghoon insisted, reaching out to support you, but you resisted. "I said I'm okay. I don't need your help."
Minute or two passed and Sunghoon had enough of your bullshit, he grabbed your wrist and wrapped your arm around his shoulders. You finally gave up, leaning on him as he helped you get off the ice.
Once you were seated on the bench, Sunghoon remained frozen, his concern barely concealed. When he helped you take off your skates, tears welled up in your eyes, escaping despite your best efforts to hold them back. Your pride was wounded, you embarrassed yourself in front of someone you hated the most, nothing went the way you wanted. And you just wanted to prove him wrong.
A minute of heavy silence stretched on, each second feeling like an eternity. Sunghoon's struggle to hide his worry was evident in his furrowed brow and his fidgety fingers. He was torn between wanting to help and not wanting to overstep the boundaries of your rivalry, or should he say your hatred towards him? His eyes darted between your teary gaze and your leg.
Finally, he couldn't contain the storm of emotions within him any longer, and his voice broke the heavy silence. "Should I call the coach?"
Your head moved slowly from side to side as you shook it, indicating your refusal. "No, Sunghoon. It will just worry him, and we won't be able to practice. I can't afford to miss practice right now."
Sunghoon was taken aback by your response. He knew the importance of practice, but the consequences of ignoring your injury weighed heavily on his mind. The argumentative tension that had simmered earlier now resurfaced, and the two of you found yourselves locked in a silent battle of wills.
The sudden change in his voice surprised you. His voice was firm and commanding as he responded, "Y/n, your health is more important than practice. You can't keep skating on a sprained ankle. Even though you don’t want to, we have to work together; we need to make the right decision here."
You were caught in a whirlwind of emotions, torn between your pride, the importance of practice, and the undeniable logic in Sunghoon's words. God, how much you hated him. It wasn’t even about the rivalry anymore, you just hated the fact that he’s right. The silence stretched on, and it seemed like a decision was hanging in the balance.
Finally, Sunghoon, directed by a small crush on you, broke the silence once more. His voice was softer, almost pleading, as he said, "Y/n, please. Let me help you. I promise it won't change anything between us, but it's the right thing to do."
Your gaze returned to him, as he continued to speak. “Y/n, what if…” His voice trembled slightly, clearly showing you signs of hesitation. “I take you to my home instead?"
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lysol1201 · 10 months
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This Time We Make A New Start
Rookie/After Re2!Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader (mostly platonic, but can be read romantically)
Roommate Series
Summary: The daily routine of you and your roommate, Leon Scott Kennedy.
Takes place in modern time, not in the 90s because I felt like it and you can't stop me.
Word Count: 1050
Genre: Can be seen as fluff, just some fun roommate stuff
TW: profanity, mentions of depression and suicide, reader takes medication (self-indulgent type shit), if any others plz lmk (not beta read, we die like luis)
Inspired by: Does Anybody Have a Map? from Dear Evan Hansen Light Behind Your Eyes by My Chemical Romance
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5 am every morning. The most annoying alarm going off every. Single. Morning.
No snooze either. Your roommate wouldn’t let you.
“Y/N! Wakey wakey!” He screamed from the hallway of your apartment. 
How could he be such a morning person? He was 22 and being trained to death for some secret agent organization or whatever. Well again, so were you.
When Raccoon City went down, the same thing happened to your city, which was a small bit away from Raccoon. You were the sole survivor. You and Leon were both recruited and became partners. Due to training a lot and getting along, you chose to live together. It’s not like you had anywhere else to be, your home was gone, and you needed a new place to stay near the training grounds. It had been one year of you two living together. It may be chaotic, but if it weren’t for him and if it weren’t for you, who knows where you two would be? Depressed? Suicidal? Dead? You were all each other had.
“Yeah, yeah, I know!” You shouted in response, jumping out of bed quickly. You put on some socks and slippers and left your room and made a path to the bathroom. 
The door was closed, so you knocked. “Ocupado!” Leon spoke from the other side of the door.
“Hurry up, I need to brush my teeth!” 
Soon after, you heard a flush and the sink turned on. Then, the door opened. “It’s fine, I just needed to piss,” He smiled at you and stepped aside, letting you in. “I gotta brush my teeth too, so you have to deal with me.”
“Fine, fine,” You agreed, squeezing to the left side of the sink while Leon went to the right. You both grabbed your toothbrushes, then Leon reached for the toothpaste to put some on your brush and his. “Whoever finishes first doesn’t have to make breakfast,” You challenged, immediately starting to brush your teeth after.
“That’s not fair!” He squeaked, quickly getting to brush his teeth. 
You won.
“Cook!” You bumped him, rinsing your mouth and putting your toothbrush away. Walking out of your room, you hear Leon finish and catch up to you.
“Take your meds, dumbass,” Leon elbowed you in the side. “Can’t have you crying at the training grounds,” He chuckled with a wink and sped up his pace to get to the kitchen to avoid the backlash.
“Oh, shut up! That’s not how it works!”
“Just swallow them, gobble them already!” You heard him laugh from the kitchen while you walked back into your room to both take your meds and get dressed.
You got into the standard training clothing that was provided for you and some running shoes. Once finished with all you needed in your room, you quickly exited and rushed to the kitchen.
“It’s 5:30, hurry up and eat or else we’ll be late,” Leon spoke, putting a plate of eggs and toast in front of you. “I’d rather not have to do non-stop fights until I win 5 in a row again. Some were fucking knife fights. I’ve been here for a year, jesus fucking christ,” He complained while he sped through eating his food.
“Hey, I had to do agility training for 8 fucking hours straight! If I failed a chase, I’d have to start from the start and lose all of my progress,” You groaned and took a bite out of your toast. “They’re trying to get is fucking killed.”
“I guess that’s to help us survive in whatever… else happens to us,” Leon sighed. 
You could tell he was thinking back to Raccoon City. His face had dropped and he had gotten quiet. It was times like these that you knew you two needed each other here. “Don’t worry, one day I’m sure you’ll be able to beat the shit out of Krauser, and it’ll be the most satisfying moment of your life.” You chuckled and hoped to bring the smile back to his face.
Leon let out an amused huff. “Yeah right,” The smile slightly returned. That was all you needed.
You stood up to go to the fridge for some milk, but once you opened it, there was no milk. “Leon, did you drink all the milk?” You turned to him in annoyance. He looked away and pretended to not hear you. “You’re paying for the next gallon!” He leaned back in his chair and groaned in response.
“Oh fuck, we gotta go. Traffic is being shit right now according to the news,” Leon stuffed down the last of his eggs, standing up and rushing to his room to get dressed.
You grabbed your bag that sat by the front door that you had already put fresh water and spare clothes in and waited for Leon. “If you don’t hurry up, I’m leaving without you!” 
When you finished your sentence you saw Leon rushing from his room basically hopping on one foot while he tried to slip on his other shoe. “Hold the fuck on, geez!” He finally got the shoe on, grabbed his bag by the door, and the hung up car keys. “Got everything?”
You saluted him. “Yes, Agent Kennedy.”
“Oh, shut up,” He chuckled, opening the door and letting you out first as he quickly followed behind you. 
It wasn’t perfect living that way. Knowing what you were doing for a living, being forced into this, having to go through what you two went through. But without each other, that light in your eyes would have faded a long time ago. You weren’t sure how long that light would stay there, knowing it was fading day by day, but you knew with Leon by your side it would take a bit longer. And he knew that with you by his side, he’d have more hope to hold on to.
It had hurt to say goodbye to all your friends, all of them had met their tragic ends. All the people you wanted to save, and with every passing day you felt that survivor's guilt and the feeling of missing them all. 
For them, you didn’t want to lose this fight. But you couldn’t do it alone.
You two needed each other, to save the light behind your eyes.
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grapejuicestyless · 8 months
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Sick Of The Chase
Harry Styles x fem!reader
Summery: Y/n is what she considers a “killer.” Her relationships constantly falling apart in the same pattern, she can’t help but believe her failures are because of her. All she needed was one person to break that cycle. Based off Killer by Phoebe Bridgers.
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Sometimes I think I’m a killer. I scared you in your house. I even scare myself sometimes when I’m talking, rambling on your couch. But there’s nothing I can do. This is who I am, this is who I’m destined to be. The woman with a twisted mind and an even darker dating history.
A bloody trail of broken hearts, inconsolable nights spent chasing after the next loved one who had enough and got the fuck out.
And there’s nothing I can do.
It all started the same. An innocent man and an overly believing woman crossing paths by some kind of fate. The gravity would pull us together and we’d spend the next few moments of our lives together.
We would vow to see each other again, and we would. And the next months would be spent between the sheets with lips pressing to our cheeks and lips sore from our sorry smiles.
And before the clock would strike midnight, around the year long mark achievement that marked our love, it would become too much every time. Our abilities to work things out not yet prepared for the intense fights we would have.
The drifting was irreparable as all that was left to do was sit there idly waiting for the final blow that would break the camels back.
I would watch them leave just as it began. Some fate pulling us apart as it was always meant to be. And the proclaimed love of my life would walk out just as quickly as he would enter.
How stupid I was to have fallen into the trap of my own feelings yet again. How cruel of a trick I had played on myself for believing this could be different. That he would stay.
Harry entered my life just past the new year, confetti stuck in his hair and the rose spread across my cheeks from the warmth the alcohol transferred into my blood. His curls were lively, even when matted in sweat from dancing all night.
He stayed to pick up the aftermath, as did I. The quiet enveloped us, soft breathing and footsteps uneven and heavy. How funny it was how quickly history is ready to repeat itself as soon as you forget why you were so sad.
Ever the beautiful fool, I became hooked. The sickness that came from the chase buried underneath the desperation for blood. The undying want for his arms to hold me in the coldest nights and for his laughter to ring in my ears in the most humid rain storms.
We just fit. We shared the same interests, but we’re different enough to be able to share the enjoyment of teaching each other new hobbies and skills. Everything in my life became Harry coded.
From the apron hung on the door just for him when we’d bake to the strawberry shaped bowl on my counter top that reminded me of his love for summer. I had truly drowned in my infatuation for him.
But my love and my effort was never enough, in the end. And right around that December mark, just before the year anniversary, I watched as the fights that ceased to exist became a frequent part of our routine. I watched as his happiness turned into anger and mine into a deep rooted depression I couldn’t run from.
I couldn’t sleep next to him, some nights. Even as harmless as he was. The feeling of his arms around me only reminded me of our bitter words and unresolved arguments. The couch became my sanctuary. A place where sobbing seemed easier to do, and breathing was slightly clearer.
We progressed, sick but too ashamed to admit it for weeks. Apologies lingering only to be shattered within the next few hours as the next storm rolled in.
Yet, the killer that I was, the sad, mellow woman I became in every relationship still wasn’t enough to tame the fire that was him.
I sat there, sick and tired. My mind was barely there. A machine might as well have been keeping me alive, the way I had been feeling.
The stress came through my fingers. Knuckles white from pulling out the ends in a desire to make it stop. The fragile ending of a beautiful romance too much to think about.
But Harry, even in our most difficult time, found a way to surprise me. He kissed my rotting head, watching as my feet curled under my bottom and I tried to sink into the cushions, he refused to pull the plug. He let the wire twist, watched the rope burn slowly until only a strand held it together.
He refused to walk out and leave what we had built behind. That harsh question of, what was left to do for us, became answered in that resilience he showed.
In our darkest hour, in the softest whisper he promised me, “I know there’s something waiting for us.”
The road seemed narrow, walls closing in around us but he would hold them apart with all his strength until we figured it out. The cycle breaking bit by bit. With his promise to not abandon what we had, I grew the strength to give the same back to him.
There is something waiting for us.
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gridgirldrabbles · 2 years
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The Karaoke Bar
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Pairing: Max Verstappen x Y/N
Words: 1.8k
Warnings: none
Request: okay I had a dream and I desperately need it to be turned into a piece of writing  imagine karaoke with the boys but make it spicy! so what if you and max had a little thing but he was too cocky to make a move (bc he’s max effing verstappen, why would he) so while you’re on stage someone says you must do “smooth operator” and then you ask pierre or charles, even daniel, just someone who might grind max’s gears, to come sing with you. this is where it gets  because the person you pick knows about you and max and then they ask “is this all to make max jealous” and you go “hell yes” and basically you sing the song and dance all close and lowkey intimate bc let’s be honest, smooth operator is a v sexy song. and whoever is singing with you whispers in your ear that it’s working but it looks like you’re flirting and just at the end of the night max finally makes his move bc he couldn’t stand seeing you up there with someone else. sorry this is so long, I absolutely did not want to wake up.
You were a well-known face around the paddock, and you had been for a long time. Charles was your best friend in the entire world, the two of you were basically siblings at this point and it meant you were at a lot of the races throughout the season. Because you were constantly with Charles you became friends with other drivers on the grid by default, particularly Pierre, Carlos, and Daniel, all of whom adored you and had a very protective stance over you.
But there was one driver in particular who had caught your eye very early on. Max Verstappen. At the beginning it wasn’t an issue, him and Charles weren’t particularly close so you could just admire him from afar. No harm in looking right? But as Charles progressed in his career and made his way into the title fight it became harder to control. The two of the had to spend a lot of time together, being two of the top drivers on the grid. Shared podiums, shared interviews, it all meant you were seeing Max more than you had to in the past.
Your eyes had obviously betrayed you enough to the point where Max had noticed your interest in him, eyes often meeting yours as you stood behind cameras, giving you a smirk that had a blush falling across your cheeks. Max couldn’t deny that you were attractive, and if you were in the grid with virtually anyone else he would’ve already worked his charm on you. But you weren’t. You were here with Charles.
It turns out that that didn’t matter. Because you were a frequent attendee of races, it also meant you had to show your face at most of the after parties, especially the ones where your best friend ended up on the podium. The fact that the boys on the grid were so close meant they often spent these nights out together, egging each other on to do more shots or ask out the girl who had been giving them eyes all evening.
That’s how you ended in Max’s bed the first time. You were both significantly tipsy when you sparked up a conversation while waiting for drinks at the bar and it turned out that you guys got on well. You should’ve known, when Max wasn’t battling Charles for P1 they got on relatively well, and the pair of you were like two peas in a pod. The alcohol coursing through your system made you throw caution to the wind, dragging the world champion to the dance floor despite his protests. While the dancing had started innocent, it took a rapid turn which ended up with you grinding against the Dutchman, his hands on your hips and his lips on your neck.
That was three months ago now and you’d quickly slipped into a friends with benefits routine with him. It seemed like every race weekend you would end up back in his bed, but you wouldn’t leave until late the next morning. If you were being honest with yourself, the morning after was always your favourite, the two of you would cuddle in bed and chat shit for hours on end, making each other laugh endlessly. You couldn’t deny that you’d caught feelings for the driver, and you’d been hoping he felt the same, not that he’d showed any signs of that yet.
It didn’t take long for Charles to find out about your new found romance, you usually spent every minute of the race weekend by his side, and you were suddenly making excuses to be gone for hours at a time. He had originally thought you’d started sleeping with Pierre, but you shut that idea down quickly, seeing him more as an older brother than anything. You were terrible at keeping secrets from Charles so you decided that telling him would be the best course of action. He was shocked to say the least when you told him who you’d been seeing, but you swore him to secrecy as he was the only one who knew.
You told Charles all about your feelings for him and he offered the best advice he could, but he could tell that you actually cared about Max by the way you spoke about him. ‘Do you actually like him?’ he had asked, wanting to make sure you hadn’t got caught up in the heat of the moment with his rival. ‘I really do, and I’m sorry that it’s him and not someone else.’ You couldn’t deny that you felt bad about sleeping with the man who could steal the world title away from your best friend, but Charles brushed it off and said it was okay as long as you were happy. ‘But if he hurts you I won’t hesitate to take him out.’ You laughed at his protectiveness over you, giving him a tight hug to thank him for understanding.
The same weekend you’d told Charles about your situation with Max, he’d managed to work his way out of the rut the team had worked him into and get himself back on the podium, top step no less. It was the end of the triple header, so the entire grid was quite exhausted, settling on going to a karaoke bar rather than a full-on evening of clubbing. It started off very PG, Lando and Carlos singing ‘Call Me Maybe’ and having everyone in fits of laughter.
The drinks soon got flowing and the songs soon got more inappropriate. The singing and dancing declined rapidly, and the boys got rowdier, shouting at each other as they were on stage. Max had yet to move from his seat, instead choosing to sit back and watch the chaos unfold before him. He could barely take his eyes off you. You were sat at a table with Charles and Pierre, head thrown back in laughter at something one of them had said. He couldn’t help but feel slightly jealous over the fact you were sat with them and not with him.
The more alcohol that he consumed, the more frustrated Max could feel himself getting. Did you even have feelings for him? He was almost positive you did, staying in his room for hours after the two of you woke up from a heavy night, kissing him sober when you left. He didn’t have time to dwell on his thoughts as he saw Charles dragging you up on to the stage.
‘This song is dedicated to Carlos,’ Charles spoke into the microphone before the opening chords of ‘Smooth Operator’ rang throughout the bar. The both of you were laughing as you started singing along, and out the corner of your eye you could see Max leaning back in his chair, arms crossed across his chest and a less than pleased look on his face. You turned back to Charles, giving him the look that could only mean you wanted him to go along with whatever plan you had.
You arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer as the lyrics turned more suggestive, the rest of the boys hollering and whistling at your actions. Except one. Max could feel his face heating up at your actions, and not in a good way. Had you been leading him on this whole time? Were you actually with Charles? Before the two of you had started getting together he had thought there was something going on between the pair of you, but you assured him there wasn’t.
As he dragged himself out of his thoughts he was met with an even worse sight. Your back was pressed to Charles’ chest, his hands on your hips, just as you had been with Max the night you started hooking up. ‘He looks jealous,’ Charles whispered into your ear, having caught onto your plan quickly despite the amount of alcohol running through his body. You turned your body around, keeping as close to him as possible, ‘Good.’ You were hoping that this would make Max realise any feelings he had for you, and maybe even push him to make a more serious move. You knew you were playing a dangerous game, but you thought the risk would be worth the reward.
As the song came to an end the boys all stood and cheered, as if you and Charles had just put on a mind-blowing performance. The two of you couldn’t stop laughing as you got off the stage, and you decided you needed a drink after whatever that was. Just as the bartender had walked away from you, two hands slotted themselves against either side of you, trapping you against the bar. You’d recognise those hands anywhere; you’d gotten to know them well enough over the past few weeks.
You spun so you were face to face, close enough that you could feel his breath fanning across your cheeks. ‘That was a good little show.’ You could hear the sarcasm laced in his voice and it took all of your self-control to not roll your eyes at his words. ‘Thanks.’ You didn’t particularly want to argue with him, so there was no point in aggravating the situation further.
‘Were you trying to make me jealous?’ His words made you freeze. So he had noticed. ‘What if I was?’
‘Well it worked.’
Your heart was thundering in your chest at this point, your eyes searching Max’s face to see if he was giving you any indication about what he was going to say next. His hands dropped from the bar onto your waist, rubbing comforting circles onto your hip bones. He wasn’t annoyed, he had no right to be annoyed with you. You were technically single and you two hadn’t spoken about not seeing other people.
‘I don’t want to have to share you.’ His words came out so quietly that you almost didn’t hear them. ‘But I also don’t want to lose you.’
‘You don’t have to share me, Max.’ Your hands made their way to the sides of his face and he subconsciously leaned into your touch. It was as if the both of you had forgotten that any of your friends could look over at any minute and see what you were doing. ‘I’m all yours if you just say the words.’
You couldn’t believe that you were being so open with him after hiding your feelings for months. ‘I want you to be mine. Officially. I want to take you on dates. I want to hold your hand in public. I want you in the paddock with me and not Leclerc.’ You giggled at his last statement.
‘He’s still my best friend so I do still have to support him.’
Max buried his head into the crook of your neck at your words, huffing as you laughed at his childishness. ‘But I do want you to be mine, seriously.’
He pulled back to look into your eyes, the ones he had fallen for so deeply. ‘I’ve been yours from that first night in the club, all you had to do was ask.’
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