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#but it's became so common it was like. it's expected now almost? and so many action heroes just
lighthouseborn · 2 months
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this is kind of me still marveling at that i can make gifs that look like this now but also i am just. thinking thinking thinking about how Afraid of salazar henry is, is all. what a flinch. he didn't even see salazar kill anyone he just Knows that he did and the rest is the immense vibes of Bad coming off this thing that is entirely too far into his personal space at all times
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queers-gambit · 11 months
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Blue Moon Wreckage
prompt: your husband can often lose his temper and resort to the man he was before you. you grow tired of lashing your tongue, and learn your husband responds better to silence.
pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!wife!reader
fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon
word count: 4.3k+
note: another stand alone, no sequel
warnings: cursing, talk of child abandonment, vulgar dialogue, old-fashioned views on marriage (maybe idk), not edited. small angst, small comfort. author probably missed some warnings.
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The entire city cleaned up in preparation for Princess Rhaenyra's nuptials to the heir of Driftmark, Lord Laenor Velaryon. It was refreshing to see citizens rejoicing in a common theme and going around to hang different decorations; chandeliers of strung florals, wreaths woven and hung, lanterns set all around to create an ambiance in the street.
Romance was in the air.
It put people in jolly spirits, brought them elation, and gave the ability to decompress from the woes of life. Wine tasted sweeter, the food saltier, and many merchants came into town for the week-long celebration of Rhaenyra and Laenor in the hopes of selling enough wares to pay for three of their month's expenses. Every room at the inn was filled, brothels hosting the leftover stragglers; money was simply made in an abundance after taking advantage of the citizens come to celebrate.
And yet, deep within the halls of the Red Keep, not all were so at peace with the state of things.
Maids and servants all skidded around the corridor that housed your bedchambers shared with your husband. The walls almost vibrated with the sheer force of the yelling that took place, and while the sun shone on the rest of the Kingdom, there was a dark shadow over the Red Keep.
Rarely, and it was the truth, rarely did you and Daemon ever fight. He was your best friend, he was the love of your life, you've known him for years, and had long since developed an effective way to communicate. Daemon wasn't easy to deal with, in fact, even to those who knew how to handle him, he sometimes pushed past boundaries and threw curveballs into the mix. You were not immune to his sharp tongue and wicked-fast wit, but in reality, Daemon never actively sought conflict with you, so fighting was incredibly rare - though, not totally unheard of.
Like a blue moon - not totally unheard of, but still considered rare. And in pale moonlight, the ship you and Daemon found yourselves sailing on seemed to crash into a set of cliffside jagged rocks, all but imploding the balance you had found yourselves in.
A shipwreck during a blue moon.
Before you, Daemon was violent and volatile. He was irresponsible, impulsive, stubborn, hotheaded, and blood thirty. Many Ladies all vied for the Prince's attention, but as he grew older, he became more and more reckless and more Ladies started keeping their distance. Expect you. You heard rumor his grandmother, the Queen Alysanne, meant to marry him off to Rhea Royce but your father was almost too smart for his own good. He devised a tantalizing offer that the Crown would've been foolish to refuse - thus binding you and Daemon to fate.
Before you, Daemon wasn't a man. He was just a second son trapped in a shell of his body, full of anger with nowhere to expel himself. A boy with a temper. A lad with attitude. He was knighted at 16, an impressive feat, and not a full moon cycle later, you and Daemon wed. He wasn't easy to love, but that was because he was so defensive in his life living in his older brother's shadow.
Before you, Daemon never believed in love or acceptance. Yet everyday he spent with you, he was reminded of his value and worth as a person - not just a Prince, or a Targaryen. You worked every day for his trust and confidence, and once you had it, it was an unshakeable foundation. Daemon was everything to you, and before him, you were shy and awkward and overwhelmed in the glaring eyes of court. Now, you were confident, humble, and weeping with power.
You kept Daemon balanced in his head and heart.
Before you, he was like a wild dog. Now, he was domesticated for you and you alone. He realized how much his recklessness hurt you and never wanted to be the cause of your pain, so, Daemon cleaned himself up. Most days, he was perfectly content in life, and others, he was still as stubborn as ever, but every so often, Daemon loses sight of himself and resorts back to who he was before you.
Fighting with Daemon was always difficult. He wasn't accustomed to losing, so, when you two went toe-to-toe, he was out for blood. He loses himself in his anger, fueled only by the need to cause the most harm with his sharpest words. Daemon jumped to conclusions faster than a grasshopper hops from blades of grass because he was vastly insecure, and it took most of your will to restrain your anger enough to soothe him of his worries.
Daemon hated fighting with you, and you hated fighting with him. There was never a true victor because you both hated it so much. Perhaps that was why your once-in-a-blue-moon fights turned so gruesome and emotional; you both hated fighting that it made you fight even harder.
How you came to this, you didn't remember. One moment, you were enjoying a morning feast with your husband, and the next, you were locked in your chambers, lashing at each other's throats with hateful words.
"I do not understand!" You sobbed. "You agreed to this - "
"No! No, I did not! You did not consult me on this matter, you just accepted responsibility. For the both of us!"
"He is my little brother, Daemon!"
"He is not our responsibility!"
"He is now!"
"Because you took action without a word to me!"
"I did not need to consult you; he is my blood."
"But not mine."
You scoffed, "For fuck's sake, Daemon, do you hear yourself? You are whinging over a child - you're bloody jealous of a child! Where is the man I married?"
"I have done all I am expected and required as a husband, it is you who refuses my seed. Who refuses to grow our family!"
"Oh, for fuck's sake! Now you want a baby!? Married ten years, we are, and NOW you want to whinge about babies!? I am busy in case you've not bothered to look around every once in a while," you snapped, "and I understand having a baby is not ideal right now!"
"So, you will not take my seed because you are busy raising another man's?"
"He was my father - oh, Gods be good, why're we fighting over this?"
"You need to understand, he is not mine," Daemon seethed. "He will never be mine and I do not wish to treat him as such. The life and luxury we live in are not meant for a child that is neither of ours."
"What would you have me do!?"
"Send him to your brother."
"Oh, spare me this notion, Daemon! I will not hear of it! No! We are not discussing this again and again!"
"You mean to disobey me then, wife?" He snapped, making your mouth snap shut. "Huh? Think you're immune to the duties you must uphold as a woman? Think that allows you free rein? You are luckier than most that I allow you to have a fucking opinion; do not abuse my generosity. You want the child to stay, fine, I hear you, but I say he goes. Guess who's want will triumph?"
You blinked several times, unable to find words.
"Nothing to say?" He taunted. "That is a first, wife, you surprise me. In your moment of silence, do well to listen to me now: the child goes, or I do. You either get rid of the child or I will remove myself from this sham of a marriage."
"I do not recognize you, you are not my husband," you finally sighed. "Do me a favor and figure you may speak to me again once you're ready to apologize. If not, I assume by week's end, we will be celebrating both Rhaenyra's wedding and our annulment."
"Too much time has passed for such - "
"I know a Septon that will forge documents. Now," you eyed him up and down, "once more, do not think to speak to me unless to grovel for my forgiveness."
"You will die before that happens."
You nodded slowly, then shrugged and dodged around him to exit the room. You could not bear to be around him any longer, storming away to where your small brother was being looked after by a Septa. You did not speak to Daemon the rest of the day, feeling yourself brimming with anger as you replayed his words.
How dare he find insult in your desire to do "the right thing" by caring for your brother after your parents met their untimely demise? How dare he cite "wifely duties" to you? Just how dare he!
The day was supposed to be merry. It was supposed to be lighthearted and fun and romantic and exciting and gossip worthy. Yet now, you were feeling annoyed, frustrated, weighed down, and plain stupid. You felt alone. You felt tired and worn thin. Your little brother, Jamie, always put a smile on your face, but now, you were simply ready to cry just by looking at him. This planted the seed of resentment towards Daemon, and through the day, only festered.
"My Lady?" You glanced in the mirror to see your hand maiden, who was doing your hair, humming in question. "Alyria has arrived, she will watch young Lord Jamie for the evening."
"Good, thank you," you sighed. "Has Daemon come around?"
"No, my Lady."
"Hmm."
Not 30 minutes later, you were walking towards the decorated throne room with your hair braided back, make-up laid perfectly, and your dress a dark grey, black, and Targaryen red.
However, before you could walk in, someone called your name. You paused, letting Daemon approach you, his eyes raking you in as he realized you dressed to match him. "You look beautiful," he complimented, but you just stared; then sighed through your nose and straightened up. "What? You're not speaking to me?"
"I told you the terms in which you should find it acceptable to speak to me again."
Daemon scoffed, "You're still on that?" You did not answer, just stared forward. "Fine, be that way. Come," he offered his arm, but you brushed past him to finally enter the throne room. Your names were announced, albeit begrudgingly because most in the castle harbored ill-will towards Daemon. They just felt bad for you, not knowing of the man you had grown to know and love unconditionally.
You took long strides to shorten your journey, but behind you, your husband just sauntered in as if the center of attention. However, no matter where he was, Daemon was always the main character, and he was quite the peacock in flaunting himself. You bowed to the King and his daughter, heir to the Iron Throne, Princess Rhaenyra. You took your seat beside the Hand of the King, Ser Strong, as Daemon climbed the stone stairs with a smug expression before taking the seat beside you at the very end.
Needless to say, Daemon was not accustomed to being ignored. You did not look at him, did not speak to him, ignored his direct questions, even went as far as to slapping his hand away when he reached for your thigh. When your hand rested on the table and he laid his over yours, you pulled it back.
It drove Daemon absolutely up the wall.
"And how fairs your brother, my Lady?" Ser Strong asked gently. "How does he like life in the Capital?"
"He adores it," you hummed with a nod. "He is learning so much and loves watching the boats in the harbor."
"How old is he now?"
"Just shy of 4, my Lord."
"Well, what would the little Prince like for his nameday?"
"Oh, uh, no, he's not a Prince," you spoke gently.
"No? Well, I suppose until Viserys recognizes him."
"Well, Daemon's made it clear that if I do not give custody of my brother up, this marriage is null and void, so," you clicked your tongue cheekily, sipping your wine, "no use in titles."
You knew others heard you and smirked to yourself. Another gulp of wine and you were standing, excusing yourself, and moving onto the dance floor. Rhaenyra giggled when you gave her a playful twirl before taking your place with a partner, falling into rhythm with those around you. The entire time, you felt Daemon's eyes burning into you.
You didn't care. You carried on as if there wasn't a ring on your wedding finger weighing like a full fish net, like you weren't burdened by your marriage.
You danced with a Tully, Stark, Frey, and Lannister boy, all who looked at you like a delectable treat but were being effectively ignored, just like your handsome, white-haired husband. It was a lively time, twisting and turning and leaping and being lifted in ture with the instruments playing. Rhaenyra caught your eye a few times, grinning and giggling as she, too, let herself destress in the glee of the festivities. However, when the Frey lad spun you around, you had thought of the devil so much, there he bloody was.
Your husband smirked down at you, "You look startled, little bird."
You scoffed and moved to go around him, but Daemon's hand was darting out to grab your upper arm. He pulled you further into the crowd to use them as a layer of protection, turning sharply to leer over you. He snapped in High Valyrian, "What're you playing at? Hmm? You mean to embarrass my entire family by being so cold and shrewish?"
You scoffed, glaring at him for a moment before he reached forward to grab your neck and cheek in a possessive hold. "I dare you to raise a sharp word at me," he sneered quietly, keeping you in place. "You have ignored me all fucking day, these games are at an end. I have always known your voice to be a sweet remedy, do not deprive me of it longer."
"Then apologize," You snapped.
"For what? Speaking the truth? That you refuse to sire my children because you are too occupied with your wee brother? For taking in a child without so much as asking me? Tell me, what am I apologizing for?"
You scoffed, rolling your eyes, and swatting his hand from you. However, just as you meant to walk away from him, someone gasped and yelped from the people around you. Daemon brought you into his chest as a sudden crowd thickened, two bodies hitting the floor in a gruesome fight. This encouraged others to get rowdy, and before you could comprehend his actions, Daemon was stooping low to hoist you over his shoulder and stride away.
When out of the fray, Daemon slowed himself enough to set you down at the base of the stairs leading to the Royal banquet table, both his hands going to your cheeks. He panted lightly, looking you over, "All right? You hurt? They touch you?"
"No, I'm okay," you sighed gently, reaching up to hold his wrists in a brief show of affection. However, the crowd only grew in size and aggression; the Royals all taking refuge on the elevated landing to take a headcount. Not a moment later, Ser Harwin Strong, the Hand's eldest son, was emerging from the crowd with Rhaenyra hoisted up his shoulder.
But your attention was drawn elsewhere. You parted Daemon's side to get under Viserys' arm, lifting him up slightly as he coughed into a handkerchief. You frowned when you saw the blood, his eyes meeting your wide ones. You asked the only question you could think of, "Does Daemon know?"
"No," he matched your tone in a whisper.
You nodded and assisted him into the closest chair. After the death of Ser Laenor Velayron's paramour (Ser Joffrey, was it?) the hall was cleared of everyone to only leave the immediate family. In hopes of avoiding future turmoil, it was decided that the Realm's Delight, Rhaenyra, was to wed the Sea Snake's son, Laenor, now instead of at week's end. Viserys asked his brother to stay but you were quick to bow out, promising it was a family affair and you should get ready for bed anyways.
Daemon looked close to protesting your departure but was unable to utter a single word, only watching you scamper out of the throne room as the High Septon finally arrived.
Rhaenyra and Laenor married in front of his mother and father, Rhaenys and Corlys, and his sister, Laena. King Viserys was there with his brother Daemon and wife Alicent, leaving only the Hand present to pose as "unbiased witness".
Further into the castle, you collected your brother, Jamie, and quickly got him ready for bed. Your heart felt heavy with guilt as you looked at him, understanding on a deeper level that if it came down to it, you'd do anything to keep Daemon in your life... And if he said your brother had to go or he did, well, you feared to find out if he was serious.
Jamie fell asleep on the long bench at the base of your bed with a fire crackling in front of his face. He had fallen asleep listening to you read, your emotions catching up to you to let you finally sob quietly while preparing for bed. You hated the idea of losing either Daemon or Jamie, and the fact that you had to choose? It felt impossible. So, once ready for bed, you tied on your dressing robe and bent at the waist to kiss Jamie's forehead. You then found yourself standing at the floor-to-ceiling window, wine in hand, staring out into nothing as you were wrecked emotionally from considering Daemon's ultimatum.
You were overwhelmed.
The door opened behind you and your eyes screwed shut. You took an even breath in, heard the door shut quietly, and then turned to spy your husband already staring at you. His face was neutral, passive, and you knew he was sizing you up just as you were him; both waiting for the other to make the first move.
Your resolve crumbled.
As if your minds were connected by a string, you surged forward as Daemon took a few steps toward you, meeting in the middle, and wrapping your arms around one another. Daemon held your waist tightly as yours tied around his neck in a vice grip, breathing in his scent that seemed to mingle permanently with the smell of dragon. He felt gentle trembling from contained sobs, soothing you with hushed cooing; hand petting the back of your head.
When you pulled back, it was only just enough to find his lips; drenching yourself in sheer relief at the familiar taste and feel of your husband. Just before you could whimper you were sorry, truly being unsure what you were actually apologizing for, when he beat you to it.
The space between your lips was filled with Daemon's rushed words, both his hands cradling your cheeks as he spoke, "I'm so sorry, my love. I am. I am truly so sorry. I hate fighting, I hate us fighting, it just feels so fucking wrong, I'm so sorry."
"No, it is I who am sorry, husband."
"Nothing to apologize for," he rushed, forehead glued to yours as he moved you backwards to the bed. "You do not apologize to me; you have done no wrong. It's me, I am the one who should grovel. I do deserve your kindness; I am so sorry for what I've said." He took a long breath, just holding you carefully, "I was out of line."
"No, you were right. I did not consult you; I should have. It is not just you or I in this, but the two of us together. I shouldn't have acted without so much as a word."
"It is okay," he assured softly, "it is more than all right by me now. I just," he sighed, "I needed to think, process a little. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did, I should've listened to you and been a supportive husband, but instead, I just fought with you." He frowned, petting down your face with a dainty finger. "We fight because we care, but Gods do I hate it."
"I do, too," you whispered. "Can we just," you sighed, "go to bed or something? I'm exhausted."
He nodded, glancing at the foot of the bed before looking back at you, "One more thing."
"Hmm?"
"We will talk to Viserys in the morning about recognizing Jamie."
You frowned, "Well, hang on, I think I understand your point, too, Daemon. Listen, yes, I want us charged with Jamie's care, but I do not wish to replace his parents."
"He should still have a title, a place at court. Access to tutors and such."
You smiled fondly, whispering, "That is the man I married."
Daemon prepared for bed as you check Jamie, finding him fast asleep still. Your husband came to bed after blowing out all candles, leaving the fire simmering and you both under a single linen sheet. He laid on his back with you flush against his side, both hands holding your form and tracing idle patterns.
Every so often, he'd squeeze you tightly and kiss your forehead, but otherwise, you both just laid in peace. However, Daemon broke the silence, "I did not mean to cause you harm. I just felt panicked, I think, after the war."
You nodded with understanding, "Our time is on the horizon, Daemon, I promise, I just needed to find balance with Jamie. I've never been a mother before, 's very odd."
"Perhaps we can learn together, I've never been a father," Daemon offered softly. "I fear I have not been entirely welcoming."
"You've time to remedy it," you urged softly. "But you are not obligated."
"He will be our shared responsibility."
You smiled against his chest. "So, tell me of the wedding."
"Nothing special," he sighed. "Viserys fell ill. And I do mean literally fell."
"What? Is he all right?"
"Yes, he's being seen to... But I was thinking..."
"Of?"
"Us. Our family."
"Hm, and what of them, my love?"
Daemon sighed, reaching for your cheek in order to find your lips in the dark. "We will leave," he whispered, licking another kiss to your lips. "We'll go across the Narrow Sea together, raise a family away from the politics and chaos."
"You would miss your family."
"I would rue staying in this city. Away from here, we'd have liberties and freedoms Kings Landing does not offer us, nor our kids."
"I will think on it."
When morning broke through the window of consciousness, Daemon realized you were still sound and dead asleep, but there was something or someone poking his arm in an annoying repetition. When he blinked awake and looked to the culprit, he smiled slightly at Jamie. "What's wrong, little lad?" He asked quietly, voice heavy and hazy with sleep, seeing tears fill the kid's eyes.
"I-I didn't mean to."
"Mean to what?"
"I wet the bed," he frowned, looking at the lounge he slept on all night. "I didn't mean to. It was a scary dream."
"It's okay," he whispered, glancing at you before standing from bed. "C'mon, it's all right, we can clean it."
He nodded and let Daemon sit him at the bottom of the mattress, some two full feet from touching you. Jamie watched Daemon work, gathering any linens to set aside to be washed before plucking the child into his arms. He took his to the washroom and got him cleaned up before redressing him for the day, Daemon quickly doing the same, and then the two left for the day.
You slept while Daemon took Jaime to breakfast. You slept while the two ate and made merry; getting to know each other. You slept while Daemon answered little Jamie's questions. You slept while Daemon offered to introduce him to Caraxes, his dragon.
By the time you were awake, dressed, and approaching the mess hall, Daemon and Jamie were leaving to head for the Dragon Pit. When they saw you, Jamie grinned and squealed, "Sissy!"
You grinned when he rushed for your legs, greeting him with enthusiasm. You hoisted him onto your hip as Daemon approached you, pausing to lean in and kiss you. "Where are you two lads off to?"
"Dragons!"
You chuckled, "Yeah? Uncle's taking you to see the dragons? You're very lucky, not many people get to see them up close."
"Would you care to join us?" Daemon offered.
"No, no, that's quite all right. Thank you, my love, but perhaps this is best kept to a boy’s trip," you quipped, pecking Daemon's lips. "Bring him back in one piece, please."
"Of course," Daemon agreed, taking Jamie's hand when you set him on the ground. He stole one last kiss before leading Jamie away; where you watched them walk away and felt something stirring in your gut; suddenly come alive with tingling electricity. Instead of venturing into the mess hall, you instead continued your way to where you could meet the Grand Maester for a series of tests.
Learning you were pregnant was surreal, but incredibly elating. You were humored by the fact that, just hours ago, you and Daemon feuded for this very reason. However, after simply seeing your husband and little brother get along so effortlessly, you had no doubt in your mind you could handle this. Worrying about having Jamie and a newborn so close together was valid, of course - but it wasn't something you actually needed to worry about now.
Plenty of families had children with shorter age ranges, but none of that matters now - not when you were so explicably happy. All that was left to do now was tell Daemon and Jamie.
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requesting rules and masterlist
HOTD masterlist
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cryptidclaw · 8 months
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Whisperingclan Year 1!
Introducing Whisperingclan! my very haunted clangen clan with a terrible leader!!
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I drew these guys MONTHS ago so this art is kinda old now T-T I finally am posting them tho...
I kinda want to draw more yearly updates but I may not draw every cat... it depends on how im feeling and how much time I have :P
...
Whisperingclan lives in the mountains next to the territory of their origin clan Roaringclan. Many of the clan founders were a part of a coup in Roearingclan to make Tempeststar, at the time Tempestwhorl, deputy or leader... they were instead defeated and banished.
The founders wandered together through the territories outside of the clans... as they drew nearer to the mountains they began to hear strange whispers on the wind. Following these whispers they found themselves deep in the mountains in a cave filled with crystals that seemed to whisper with a chorus of their Starclan ancestors.
That night they slept in the cave, and in her dreams Tempeststar was named a leader of a new clan, Whisperingclan, by Starclan themselves. The new clan now calls themself the clan closest to Starclan, and they have made their camp within the Whispering Cave claiming that they are its protectors and the only cats who can be trusted with it's power.
...
I am now continuing this clan's story with updates for each moon!
First Update HERE!
...
Below is each cat from the lineup + a description of their character and what they have done in the clan's first year!
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Tempeststar!
Tempest is a very cold and cruel cat who acts purely for her own gain and power, she HATES when others undermine her or disagree with her. She uses the fact that Starclan spirits guided her clan to the Whispering cave as proof that her new clan, and her as it's leader, is the most close to Starclan and must not be questioned no matter what. She doesn't truthfully care much about Starclan, beyond what they can do for her, but she likes to but on a devout follower act to get what she wants and come across as holier than thou.
So far Tempeststar's leadership has been filled with her "teaching" cats who stand up to her lessons by attacking them and forcing others to help her. These common demonstrations have lead to her almost always having injuries and the death of two clanmates. Ravenblur was the first to die, he had followed Tempest's orders in attacking his previous apprentice but succumbed to the injuries he sustained. Jaggedlark, the cat Raven had attacked, died next, her determination to call out Tempest needed to be stopped.
Tempest likes to find cats who she can manipulate and use to do her bidding, her original cat she used for this was Ravenblur, who was happy how maim and kill for Tempest. Now it is the ex-kittypet Creekslip (who was the one to kill Jagged) who is less enthusiastic about her unspoken job as attacker and executioner
Tempeststar also became mates with her deputy Blizzardchase and is now expecting their first litter! They are both very evil so their children will be very messed up im sure <3
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Blizzardchase!
Blizzard is a cocky cat, she is well aware of how strong and skilled she is and she is not afraid to make that known. She deeply respects Tempest and was one of the first cats to join her coup. Along with respecting Tempeststar, Blizzard also has big gay feelings for her and was NOT afraid to share this, she decided that evil woman would be her mate and she wooed her (probably with evilness) until she got Tempest to fall for her lol.
Blizzard hasn't been up to much this year other than normal deputy duties and being in love with her evil wife... she trained Mossleaf but managed to impart none of her attitude and outlook on life to the young cat. Blizzard is currently doting on her mate and is very exited to see her kits next moon.
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Bramblespeck!
Bramblespeck was not always a healer, she was a warrior in Roaringclan, but she joined Tempest's rebellion as she had always looked up to her... She was banished alongside everyone else and was the first cat to begin to hear the whispering, she was the one to lead the way to the cave and through this she realized she had been chosen to be the clan's healer.
Bramble has found her new job difficult as she only had warrior training, but luckily Frostfleck had plenty of healing knowledge that he could share with her. Frost has really been her saving grace this year as he always takes over for her when she gets injured, which seems to be quite often, she's so accident prone. Bramble is also super relieved that Whiskers joined the clan since they really needed another healer...
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Whiskers!
Whiskers is a cooky lady with a fascination for the stars and herbs. She began to hear the cave's whispers while wandering alone and followed them straight to a Whisperingclan patrol... after hearing of clan life she decided that being a healer would be the perfect role for her in life and asked to join the clan. The clan is wary towards letting in too many non-clan cats but they need more members and healers so they reluctantly agreed.
Whiskers can often be found staring wide eyed straight into the cave's crystals, studying the movements of the stars, or telling cats off for not properly respecting their ancestors.
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Creekslip!
The resident blorbo, absolute soggy sad beast... she is going to cat hell unless she stops this shit lmaooo
Creekslip has extreme abandonment issues and a fear of not being excepted, and left behind. Her twolegs abandoned her in the woods and left her to learn how to survive on her own, she's strong now, but she is desperate for a home. Creekslip joined Whisperingclan on their third moon, she felt a pull to this place after wandering the woods close to the mountains, she now questions every choice that brought her here, but she cant leave... she cant handle being alone again.
A moon into being in the clan Creekslip was given an apprentice, Sunpaw, as a chance to prove herself, but she became ill soon after, and Tempeststar took on much of Sunpaw's training. Creek could feel Tempest's judgement towards her... she failed at the first task she was given, and she was determined to prove herself to the clan and the leader. Tempest could sence this desparation and she saw the potential in it...
When Jaggedlark once again stood up to Tempeststar and Tempest called on Creek to aid her in teaching the young cat a lesson... Creek was desperate for a chance to prove herself and went through with it, she had too... Jagged died later due to the injuries Creek delt her... this haunts her. Despite this however Creek continues to be Tempest's new cat to call on to beat fear and submission into the clan. Creek is to fearful to stop, but she hates what she has now done, and continues to do.
Anyways I love her she keeps committing crimes but she is so sad :(
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Frostfleck!
He has Whitestorm vibes, but like if Whitestorm was a part time healer.
Frostfleck was a loner and joined Tempest's group before they found the cave and became a clan. He isn't into all the bad vibes of the clan but he likes the idea of being in a clan and having community, plus there are plenty of good folks in the clan and he choses to stick close to them. Frost has lots of knowledge in healing though he enjoys warrior duties more, he is an unofficial part time healer, and he takes over whenever they need more help in the healer den! (in game I make him a healer when i need more healers , these cats hurt themselves so often T-T)
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Skipspot!
My kind transboy, i love himb , I feel like he just joined the clan to make friends and have community.
he has barely done anything because he just joined the clan, but he has already befriended Sunmane and gave her advice on telling Mossleaf how she feels... ig I can thank this man for finally getting Sun to confess to Moss lol.
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Butterflyfreckle!
Butterfly is like the opposite of Creekslip, she was a kittypet but she chose to leave her home for adventure! She is confident in herself and is great at making friends, she keeps away from the bad parts of the clan and just enjoys herself. She has done pretty much nothing this year though hehe.
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Weedpatch!
Weedpatch was Tempeststar's apprentice and she convinced him to join her coup through this, he did so mostly out of fear and also because his cousin Jaggedpaw and her mentor had agreed to join as well... Weed always looked up to Jagged.
Both Weed and Jagged regretted their choices to follow Tempest, but it was too late, and they were facing the conciquences of decisions they made as dumb kids. Jagged became angry after the banishment, but Weed just became... quiet. He doesn't like to get involved in any of the clan conflicts, he stays by himself as much as he can with Tempest having been his mentor. He used to spend most of his time with Jaggedlark, she was his best friend, but then she was killed, he doesn't like to talk about Jagged anymore. These days, Weedpatch, living up to his name, copes with his trauma by being high on catmint half the time.
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Mossleaf!
Mossleaf was a kit in Roearingclan, the banished cats literally just stole her, she is actually the Roaringclan leader's daughter, hence the stealing, they wanted some vengeance. Roaringclan think Moss is dead but nope! She's just in the spooky cave cult!
Mossleaf is very aloof and strange, she likes to listen to the Whispers, and while most cant decipher them it seems like Moss might actually be able to hold a conversation with them. Bramblefleck thought Moss should become a healer but Tempest promised to give Blizzardchase the next apprentice available, despite this Moss doesn't seem to mind being a warrior though.
Moss became very close to the other apprentice at the time, Sunpaw and they became so close it seemed one could never be found without the other. They seemed to have crushes on each other from the start and it was no surprise when Sunmane confessed to Moss and they became mates soon after they both became warriors. I love them both sm they r cuties <3 (the not evil gays)
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Sunmane!
Sunmane is my favorite design... I love her lion mane and her bangs sm she is so CUTE
Sunmane joined the clan as a kit and before they found the cave. Her grandfather Flowermoon was trying to find a group to support them both, Sun's parents were gone and Flower was getting old... the strange group of cats was the best choice they had at the time.
Sunmane likes to stay positive and tries to lighten the mood with some jokes. Her apprenticeship was tough, and now that she is free from Tempeststar she is staying far away from her. She spends almost all her time chilling with her mate Mossleaf and trying to enjoy her life despite all the things that go down in the clan.
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Larkcaw!
Larkcaw is the starclan guide and was the main spirit to guide the cats to the Whispering Cave... she is evil actually, how did she get into Starclan??? I'm pretty sure the only reason she is in the good place is bec she didn't obviously do anything evil... she just plotted.
Lark decided to lead her great granddaughter Tempeststar to the Whispering Cave, she convinced other spirits that a clan living there would be a GREAT idea, despite the fact that it is actually very bad for cats to live in a cave full of that much Starclan energy. It can easily mess with a cat's mind, especially those with a stronger Starclan connection.
Larkcaw really just wanted control over a clan, and what better than making a new clan backed by a powerful Starclan source?
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Flowermoon!
Flowermoon is Sunmane's grandfather and became her caretaker after her parents died, he joined the group because he knew he needed cats who could care for Sun and him as well since he was getting old, he is unsure of his decision, Tempeststar is cruel, but he knows Sunmane has found friends and joy in the clan despite it all. Before his death Flowermoon spent much of his time telling stories to the kits and apprentices, he passed away of old age, and now watches over his granddaughter <3
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Jaggedlark!
Jaggedlark was Ravenblur's apprentice back in Roaringclan and due to this she had spent much of her apprenticeship around Tempest and her followers. She was convinced that the coup was a good idea and even played a role in convincing her cousin Weedpaw of the same thing. After the coup and subsequent banishment however, Jaggedpaw began to see the truth in what kind of a person Tempest was... she grew to despise the leader. Jagged became a warrior on the clan's first official moon, but Jaggedlark became even more confident in speaking out against Tempeststar's actions after this and this would sadly lead to her demise.
On the same moon that she became a warrior, she angered Tempest by questioning one of her decisions, Tempest called on Jaggedlark's own previous mentor, Ravenblur, to attack Jagged alongside Tempest to teach Jagged a lesson. Jagged would end up wounded from the fight, but not nearly as much as Ravenblur who died of his injuries a moon after... Jagged was devastated, her mentor had attacked and betrayed her trust, but she had killed him, didn't that make her just as bad?
A few moons later Jagged would end up being made an example of again when she began speaking out against Tempest even more than before, even questioning her place as leader... Jagged would die like her mentor, dying a moon later from blood loss.
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Ravenblur!
Ravenblur died almost immediately, but i hate him, I sent him the the dark forest >:)
Raven was one of Tempeststar's biggest followers (a Darkstripe to Tigerstar sort), he did anything Tempest asked of him, even attacking his own previous apprentice Jaggedlark. He is VERY mad that Jagged ended up killing him, he feels he deserved more from life... he wanted more power like Tempest and Blizzard, and Jagged took that away from him...
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biggameplayertrentaa · 2 months
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When in Jamaica
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word count: 4.5k
warning: smut 18+
Bold name or pronoun: POV
summary: distant family friends have a lot more in common than either initially assumed. shy!trent x virgin!reader.
author's note: shoutout to the anon who requested this, and credit to @trenty for the beautiful gif! I do hyperbolize tf outta the weather, so pls do not read too much into that.
I hope you enjoy it! Please lmk (in grave, borderline superfluous detail) of your all your thoughts.
Trent was sure he was liquidifying. 
He stripped to just his briefs and fully opened all four of the large windows in the room,  desperate to maybe tease out a breeze from the still air—it was all in vain. A thick layer of sweat still manifested, coating his body in almost a stifling way. Trent was irate–both by the tropical-sweat-inducing temperatures and by his decision to vacation in a location with said temperatures. Jamaica sounded lovely in theory…but in practice, the humidity coupled with the brutality of the sun made him almost wish he had chosen a destination with a climate he was more accustomed to.
Almost.  
Jamaica really only seemed lovely because it was Y/N who had originally suggested the location in conversation with his mother, Dianne. 
For as long as he could remember, you had always been around. Your mothers grew up together, dreaming of a future where they could raise their family alongside each other. This ultimately became a reality, solidifying your presence in his life as a constant. Despite this, Trent could probably count, on one hand, how many times the two of you engaged in conversation. This was, of course, his own fault, being naturally shy–a quality he adapted just as the two of you were growing into yourselves (i.e. when you developed breast and his voice started to crack) That, Trent concluded, was also when his subconscious crush on you became very much conscious, subsequently (and unknowingly) long-lasting, and pretty distracting.  
He was 14 at the time and did not know what to do with the foreign feeling, so he suppressed it. 
Now at 25, he still did not know what to do with the (still foreign) feeling, so he continued to suppress it. Awkwardly–at that, often flushed pink and stammering any time he was stuck near you. 
Trent wanted that to change–he needed it to. 
Not only did he find his crush entirely juvenile, but you weren’t necessarily someone who would be free and single forever. Trent viewed it as a now-or-never situation, deciding when he booked, that this would be the holiday where he would make some sort of effort to at least develop a proper friendship with you.  
This plan was better said than done. 
Though he had managed to stutter out a hi and how was your flight when you had first arrived at the villa and greeted him, he found himself at a complete loss attempting to formulate the appropriate words to trigger conversation. 
(That was two days ago; he’d made no progress since).
Trent reached beside him, quickly retrieving his phone from the bedside table to check the time. It was just now hitting three in the morning. Sleep seemed like a nearly impossible feat, not only finding himself hot and uncomfortably sticky, but also parched.  Eventually, he mustered up just enough energy to stand from his sprawled position and throw on his discarded tanktop. He contemplated pulling shorts over his briefs, but he found himself dripping in sweat and decided against it. 
No one will be up at this hour, anyway, he thought to himself as he quietly opened the door to the room. Just as he expected, the villa was pitch black, the only sounds being the chatters of the night critters outdoors. “I don’t even sweat this much during matches.” He murmured to himself, padding through the dark corridors as mouse-like as possible, forcefully wiping at his perspiring forehead. 
“Yeah, this heat is bordering on ridiculous.” The voice came from just over his shoulder, hushed but still loud enough for him to register who it belonged to. Trent stumbled to a halt. The pits of his stomach suddenly burned to a temperature that stood even to the degree outdoors. It jarred him. So much so that it stripped what little moisture his mouth had left and devoided his mind of nearly all of his learned social etiquettes. 
Nearly.
“What are you doing up?” He kept his tone just as feathery light as yours as he turned to face you. Your hair was gathered at the top of your head– skin decorated with little beads of sweat as you stood there sporting a toothless grin and an oversized t-shirt that barely touched the skin above your knee. 
“This heat makes me too angry to sleep. Next time you book a holiday in this beautiful country, make sure you book it during the winter season.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong but was it not you who suggested Jamaica?”
“Don’t you put this on me. You had the power and credit card to say no.”
“I wouldn’t say no to you.” The words formulated on his tongue and sailed past his lips before his mind could stop them. You cocked a brow at him, a glint of something in your eye as you shamelessly cast a look over his figure. To prevent the nasty, heavy feeling of insecurity from consuming him under your belittling gaze,  he allowed his own eyes to glide over your body. Accustomed to only throwing quick, fleeting looks your way through the years, Trent truly felt like a child allowed to roam wildly in a free candy shop. You were striking; utterly butterfly-inducing, especially looking at him the way you were.
“Come swim with me.” Your eyes hung low, voice notably dropping an octave or two as you motioned toward the garden where the inground pool resided. 
“It’s like three in the morning?”
You rolled your eyes at this and scoffed. “You’re 25 Trent, not 65; live a little.” You said, playfully bumping his shoulder as you walked past him and toward the garden. “Come on.” This time, Trent did not question you, he simply trailed after you. 
The garden was illuminated by nothing but the full moon and the white light coming from the  pool. You waste no time ridding yourself of the oversized t-shirt, revealing the red bikini set underneath. You dip a testing toe in the clear water before seating yourself along the edge of the pool and sliding in. “Are you coming in or what?” Trent hadn’t noticed he was still wordlessly gawking at you. He cleared his throat.
“Right.” He reached behind him, bunching up the material of his tanktop near his neck, and forcefully tugged it over his head. He walked the short distance to the pool’s stairs and carefully descended them, instantly feeling refreshed despite the water’s temperature being lukewarm. 
“Feel better?” You said as you made your way over to stand in front of him, lips still fixed in that toothless grin
“Much.” 
“Trent?” You said after a comfortable pause, toothless grin now vacated from the premise of your face. He hummed in response, curious of the sudden change in your expression. “Has there ever been a problem between us?” You gestured between the two of you, your brows now stitched together. 
“Problem? No-what makes you say that?” He stammered out, instinctively stepping a centimeter closer to you.  Trent met your eye as you looked up at him, and immediately noted the absence of that glint. This, coupled with your grin-less lips left him feeling oddly anxious.
“For starters, this is the most you’ve talked to me.” You began with a chuckle, “And I also feel like you go out of your way to avoid me.” You said it lightly, and decorated it with a smile that he could easily see through. To him, you seemed almost confused–hurt even.  
“Avoid you? That’s not–your–I.” Trent felt as if he was attempting to stand in quicksand–he couldn’t find his footing, let alone the words to explain himself and his innate bashfulness. He never once assumed his disposition could be read as anything but reservation. It almost made him sick to think he had been unknowingly upsetting you throughout the years. He gathered what little coherent thoughts he had and sucked in a breath, “It’s hard for me to be, you know, open.”
“Trent, our mums are practically sisters, they’re so close. I’ve known you for years; you’ve known me for years; I don’t understand your reservation towards me.” The crease just above your brows deepened as you expectantly stared at him. Trent couldn’t help but flick a glance towards your pouted lips–plump and vibrantly pink. He moistened his own before he responded. 
“I know, its just-” He let out an exasperated breath–why was coherency such a difficult feat for him today? “You make me nervous. I get nervous around you.” Because you’re fit and witty and always smell like brown sugar cookies, he wanted to say, but the words were fisted away by logic and slight embarrassment. 
“I make you nervous?” You sounded almost amused. Trent felt his cheek burn as he shifted his gaze toward the pool’s surface. You were standing close enough that your painted toes were nearly touching his. Before his mind could slip into a mode of overthinking, he felt the soft graze of your fingertip just below his chin. “Do I make you nervous, Trent?” You asked again once his gaze was back on yours. He nodded slowly, wordlessly. You stepped toward him, closing the half-inch of distance between the two of you. You threw a casual arm around his neck, leaning into him slightly so your chest was pressed to his. He could feel the erratic beating of your heart, the tempo nearly identical to his own. This soothed him, encouraging him to place a hand on the small of your back, pushing you even further into his bubble.
Trent didn’t really know what was happening; it was all surreal; but his moderate astonishment did not prevent him from sending a silent thank you to whatever entity was responsible for this complete anomaly.  
“Can I ask why?” You whispered, your breath fanning over his lips. 
“I feel like you already know the answer to that.” Your gaze danced between his lips and eyes. He resisted the numbing urge to kiss you; it was hard for him to believe that he was reading the situation right. Maybe this was a platonic embrace—
A ghost of a kiss on his parted lip diminished any doubt he may have had about reciprocated feelings. It was fleeting, soft. Before he could even think to deepen the kiss, you pulled away–just slightly with a parted mouth and unreadable expression. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t-” Trent didn’t bother to let you finish. He cupped your face with both of his large hands and bent down until his lips were back on yours–exactly where they belonged.  This kiss wasn’t feathery light and dripping in juvenile innocence. 
This kiss was laced with heavy desire. 
Yet it was still rhythmic–languid even. Trent was basking in it; loving the way your tongue dragged against his; swallowing your breathless moans any time he would teasingly nip at your lip. The feeling of your nails scratching lightly at the nape of his neck had him letting out little sighs of his own and pulling you even closer to him until he could feel his hardening bulge pressed against your bikini bottoms. He bit back a moan, regaining what little discipline he had to reluctantly pull away from you. Your eyes remained closed, swollen lips still puckered.
“Trent?” You said after a brief, comfortable silence. Had his name always sounded so beautiful rolling off your tongue? Or did the kiss finally make him aware of it? 
“Y/N.” His lips brushed against yours as he murmured your name. 
“Take me to your room.”
You
were sure that you were leaving a trail of water droplets as you quickly and quietly padded through the darkness. Trent was hot on your heel, fingers entangled in yours, occasionally stopping you mid-stride to pull you into another heavy kiss. Your mind was practically on autopilot, operating solely on the emotions you’ve had pent up for nearly a decade. 
Trent had always been around. And for as long as he’s been around, you’ve had the most outrageous crush on him. He had always been quiet, closed off. His aloofness intrigued you, even if it often left you feeling oddly confused and insecure. You assumed his demeanor was a direct response to your forwardness–always being the one to greet him and start a conversation, so you suppressed your feelings and adopted a calmer, more platonic approach thinking it may trigger the development of some sort of relationship. 
It never really did…until this holiday.
 You had noticed the shift the second you greeted him upon arriving at the villa. Conversation was still minimal–awkward; but his actions were less subtle. He was blatant in his glances, more willing to engage in awkward chatter, and would even go out of his way to sit near you at supper. Though you didn’t automatically assume he harbored the same feeling you did, you still understood that something was different. 
This something had you plotting; you needed to get him alone. 
You had no idea that when you got up in blistering frustration from the heat, desperate to cool off via a dip in the pool, you would run into Mr. Alexander Arnold himself–just as exasperated and perspiring as you. Some would call that a coincidence; you would call it fate…and who were you to question fate? Of course, you had no idea that an innocent chat and cheeky night swim would lead to you being pushed up against the white walls of Trent’s room. But it was difficult to complain with his tongue dragging down the length of your neck. 
“I don’t think you know how long I’ve wanted to do this.” It was breathed out between teasing neck bites. You sigh at his words, instinctively jerking your hips up to relieve some of the building tension in your core. You nearly moan when you feel his bulge pressed against your throbbing clit, the feeling forcing you to through your head back. You only relished in the blissful feeling for a moment–an ounce of sense somehow making itself known amid all the lustful feelings. 
“Trent, wait.” He immediately halted, lifting his head so he could meet your eyes. A cocktail of confusion and worry was etched clearly on his face. You pecked his lips softly, hoping it would be enough to quietly reassure him he did nothing wrong. His expression softened–just slightly. 
“You alright?” He rasped, thick brows knitted and low on his creased forehead. 
“Yeah, I just–” You pushed out a breath and closed your eyes as you desperately searched for words that wouldn’t taint the mood the two of you had perfectly curated. 
Your virginal status wasn’t something you constantly thought about, as it wasn’t necessarily a status you were maintaining for any significant purpose. You simply considered the current dating scene a cesspool, plagued by red-pill incels that viewed women as fleshlights as opposed to rounded human beings. Though you understood the concept of virginity to be a socially constructed one, you still maintained it, refusing to reward disgusting and objectifying behavior. 
However, this did not mean you were prudish in any way.  
You were well acquainted with your vibrator and your fingers. This, coupled with your love for filthy erotica novels served as a perfect substitute for any man and left you quite satisfied for many years. It was very rare for you to be in a position like this one, though. You dated; you even fooled around with those you dated, but it would stop and end before that next, penetrative step. You credited this to the nagging voice in your head who loved reminding you of all the Andrew Tate-esq content tainting all your socials. 
The voice was nowhere to be found at this moment. 
“I’ve never had sex.” You rushed out, immediately feeling your face burn as you witnessed Trent’s eyes widen. He lowered you until your feet touched the cool tile and took a half step away from you. 
“Oh, I am sorry. I didn’t mean-” Trent’s stare was trained on his feet, left hand positioned on the back of his neck. “We can stop and like talk if you want?” You took that half-step towards him and placed an inviting hand on his cheek. 
“I don’t want to talk, Trent.” Your voice is hoarse and low. 
He looked up, one thick brow raised, “What do you want?” Your stomach flipped, mouth drying as you attempted to muster just enough confidence to say exactly what you wanted. Your eyes traveled from his eyes to the prominent bulge covered by his wet briefs. Your fingertips tingled with the urge to touch the clothed mound, wondering how delicious it would feel inside of you. 
“I want you.” You pressed another fleeting kiss to his lips, hands reaching between the two of you to palm him lightly. He groaned, resting his forehead against yours as his eyes fluttered shut. 
“Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel pressured-” You silenced him by slipping your hand into his briefs, taking his heavy cock in your hand. You gripped it, jerking up its length languidly, inciting the prettiest moan to slip past the barrier of Trent’s parted lips. The sound goes straight to your pussy. 
“I’m sure, Trent. Please fuck me.” 
You were swept off your toes in an instant; your mouth, immediately smothered by Trent’s in a feverish kiss. It wasn’t long before he was tossing you onto the bed, the mattress feeling cool on your damp skin. Trent hovered over you,  one arm above his head, supporting his weight, as the other rested near your right leg. You felt a calloused hand smooth up your calf, sensually dragging against the length of it and then up to your thigh. He repeated this action, pairing it with opened-mouth kisses along the underside of your jaw. 
“I want you to be–” He pressed a kiss to the skin of your jaw, “as comfortable–” then another on the corner of your mouth, “as possible, okay?” You nodded eagerly, ready for him to continue whatever sorcery he was conducting on you with his licks and caresses. You could feel how wet you were already–you were throbbing, clit pulsating to an aching beat. 
“Okay, just please touch me.” He sniffed out a chuckle. Trent signaled for you to bend your knees as his fingers hooked around the material of the bottom of your bikini. His eyes never left yours, ridding you of the article of clothing, only shifting his gaze when you’re completely bare and visible to him. He licked his lips. 
“Can I taste you?” He flicked a quick glance at you. You wordlessly state your consent with another eager nod. You push your thighs further apart as he moves his face until it is leveled with where you craved him most. His face is visible thanks to the moon’s bluish light, making the devilish smirk playing at his lips evident. He paused for a brief moment, nose nearly resting on your mound as he blew a warm gust of air on your clit before taking it into his mouth in a suctioned kiss. His name left your lips in a sigh. Your hands go to find the back of his head, pushing him even closer to you. He was ravenous in his assault; hungrily, sloppily, lapping at your cunt; occasionally slipping a tongue inside of you; even moaning against you as if it was he  who was receiving the pleasure. Your thighs were shaking; skin, burning–not from the weather but from the magic that proved to be Trent Alexander-Arnold’s tongue. 
“You taste so fucking good.” He praised, replacing his tongue with two fingers, slyly slipping them inside of you. “You feel so good wrapped tight around my fingers.” He cooed, “I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around my cock.” You mewl at his words, thighs trembling as he continued to finger you. “You okay? Baby, talk to me; tell me how you feel or I’ll stop.”  Trent threatened. His tone makes your eyes flutter open in obedience.
“I feel good,” You gasped, “you’re making me feel so good, baby.” 
“I know, baby.” Cooed Trent, moving so he was leveled with your face. He increased his pace, his palm hitting your clit each time he stroked his fingers inside of you. “Are you going to be my good girl and come on my fingers?” You nearly explode, his words immediately triggering an array of goosebumps to decorate your skin. You let out an almost sinful, guttural sound that Trent swallows by covering your mouth with his own.“Hmm,” He continued, not easing up in the slightest. “Are you going to give it to me, Y/N?” You only half heard his inquiry, ears ringing from the warmth engulfing the entirety of your shaking body. Your vision faded to black as your orgasm ripped through you like an unforgiving tidal wave. You attempted to regain a slither of composure as he withdrew his dripping fingers. Your vision was hazy, but through the vaseline-like blur, you see Trent dip his beautifully soiled fingers into his mouth. 
With a wink, he asked, “You alright?” Again, all you can do is nod, disoriented from the mind-emptying orgasm he had just induced.  “Good, ‘cause I’m not done with you yet.”  He stood from the bed and crossed the room to the opened luggage position just below the sill of a large window. Still sporting his visibly tighter briefs, he rummaged through his belongings, occasionally tossing a shirt or a sock off to the side. You rose to rest on your forearms just as he turned to face you again. Between his fingers, a bright foiled square. 
You cocked a brow at him, “Do you always keep a pack of rubbers in your luggage?” You half-teased, already hearing the familiar warning murmurs of that nagging voice. 
“This was the same luggage I used for my trip to L.A.” He said sheepishly, placing a knee on the mattress. It sunk under his weight. 
“So you were whoring it up in Cali?” You quipped. 
“Unsuccessfully,” He laughed, “that box was unopened.” You quickly scanned his face for any trace of deceit. You came up short. Eased, you reached for the band of his briefs, tugging at it, expressing your desire for its removal. Trent obliged, placing the condom package between his teeth as he freed himself of the restrictive article. His cock sprung out, hitting the area just past his belly button in the most intimidating way. He fisted himself, making a move to open the package of the condom before abruptly stopping. He placed the package beside your head, slotting himself between your thighs, his cock still heavy in his palm. He dragged his oozing tip along your clit. You jerked your hip up at the contact, instantly wrapping your legs around his waist. He continued to do this, until your arousal,  mixed with his precum, coated the head of his cock. 
“Trent, please.” You whined, completely over his tantalizing actions.
“I know, I know.” The fullback purred, reaching beside you to retrieve the condom. He tore the foil swiftly before sliding down his length. He aligned himself with your entrance. You could feel the smooth slickness of the rubber, teasing your hole. “Do me a favour, yea?” He asked, extending your torture and making you huff out in frustration.
“What.” You whine, growing more and more frustrated by each passing second. The steady throb between your thighs had grown to a palpating rhythm–painfully aching and utterly distracting. You were more than ready. 
“Touch yourself for me.” The request had you confused and frozen, not fully grasping his intentions. He repeated himself, this time with an authoritative tone that has you instantly finding your swollen nub. You rubbed tight, pressured circles over the area, little whimpers leaving your lips as you did. You soon feel a pinch then an uncomfortable burn between your legs—like you had bent to touch your toes without stretching. You gasped loudly, eyes clenching shut at the foreign feeling. Trent stops, immediately.
“Do you want me to stop?” He asked, already moving to withdraw himself from your walls. You shook your head no. Noticeably unconvinced, he asked one more time. You offered the same response, but this time it was verbal, spoken firmly. “Okay-shit-okay. Relax for me and keep touching yourself.” He instructed and you immediately obliged, fingers moving against your clit again. He pressed another kiss to your lips, lowly moaning into your mouth as he slowly buried the rest of himself inside of you,  until you could feel your hand against his lower stomach. That burn was still very much present, but it was subdued by the movement of your fingers.
“Still doing okay, baby? He whispered; lips, still hovering over yours; hips, stilled. It came out almost strangled–like having you wrapped around him was too much in some way. 
“Yes,” You whimpered, already growing used to his length. Your hips flicked up to meet his, the movement making both of you sigh. 
“God, you feel incredible.” Trent hitched your thighs further up his waist, “That’s my good girl.” His strokes were rhythmic, deep. With each one, the pitching-burning feeling diminished. Soon, he had increased his pace and you were raising your hips to meet every single one of his thrusts. “You’re taking me so well like you were meant to be around my cock.” He peppered light kisses along your collarbone between his praises. You could hardly feel your thighs, they were shaking so violently. You were still rubbing at your clit, that now familiar warmth slowly creeping up the length of your body. 
“Oh fuck, Trent.” You breathed out, fingers faltering slightly. 
“I can feel you clenching around me; you’re so close.” He rested his damp forehead against yours. His breath was labored as he shifted his hip upwards, deepening his thrusts. “Are you going to be a good girl for me again, hmm? You gonna cum around my cock the way you came around my fingers?” You could hear the wetness between your thighs, you could feel it traveling down your inner thigh and onto the sheets below you. Your eyes fluttered shut, lips tucked tightly between your teeth as you chased your second orgasm with bucking hips. 
“Look at me, Y/N.” Demanded, Trent, accompanying the instruction with a slightly harsher thrust. “I want you to looking me when you cum.” He rested one of your quivering legs over his shoulder, the new angle teasing a moan out of the both of you. By the team you reach your second orgasm, you’re almost convulsing around him, babbling a slew of praises. You felt his hips falter, and then a twitch inside of you as Trent emptied himself inside the condom, incoherently babbling something about just how good you did for him. He collapsed on top of you, making no effort to pull out. Once both of your breathing had slowed to an appropriate rhythm, he lifted his head until he was face-to-face with you. 
“You alright?” A cheeky smile played on his lips. 
“I’m alright.” You said earnestly, head still buzzing from the orgasm. 
“No regrets?” He asked after placing a kiss to your cheek and then the tip of your nose.
You smiled, “Absolutely, no regrets.”
author's final thots:
This is how I felt editing this. I'm sure I still missed a few things. For the sake of my sanity, ignore it.
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338 notes · View notes
lyomeii · 1 year
Text
you fell first, but he fell harder (pt.1)
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ where your feelings are correspond by the person you loves the most after years of being your heart being broken by others.( word count: 2021 )
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ft. terdeo lapireon.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ warnings: yandere themes ( but very light!), gn! reader but mentions reader wearing a dress, blood, reader almost dying,
₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ a/n: took more time to write this more than expected. but it’s here :) i enjoyed writing. originally, I was going to write for more characters, but seeing the length of the one-shot, I decided to just put Terdeo here, since I never wrote for him before and also, because I little obsessed with him currently.
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you consider yourself lucky.
many and many times you’ve fall in love, most people do and that’s normal! yet, you were never the first, second or even an option to them, leaving you behind and making you feel not only invisible, but made you scared of falling in love again.
it’s took many years to happen again and when did happened, you got that sense of fear once again. that common sensation that you are unlovable, invisible and not worth of love, you felt that over and over, that’s it, until you realize that they love you too.
at first, you thought to be a joke or your own mind playing tricks, yet their touch on you and the sweet words they spoken to you made you recognize they were genuine. it’s took time, but after many times being betrayed by cupid, someone have finally corresponded to your feelings.
Weirdly to say and see that Duke Lapireon is married. None expected to see the man with someone at his side, not after the whole fiasco with his previous wife. Many are curious to know why and how someone like you who is quite known for being cherubic, sweet and serene to be around.
The wedding between the two of you was simple, just Terdeo wearing the common clothes for the groom with the lack of expression on his face as usual. And you, wearing the white dress that compared to your now husband was ethereal, making you resemble an angel and receiving a little compliment from him. As he kissed you, you became part of his family and took the infamous surname.
While many theorize why you got with the Duke, Terdeo knows exactly why, after all, he is the one who asked for your hand. In order to prevent Dodolea from marrying him and to avoid her parents forcing to do so, he searched for someone who not only is willingly to marry him for the glory of being, but also that isn’t too noisy to find out about the family’s curse, luckily he found you.
As the second born of a Count and a Countess, you grow up in a loving family unlike many nobles and the fact that neither of your parents force you to get married to someone by money was what called his attention. The moment he arrived unexpectedly to your household, both of your parents asked why the suddenly visited, Terdeo told them he is here to ask for your hand in marriage.
Firstly, they thought to be a mistake, why would Duke Lapireon ask their second kid’s hand if he easily could choose anyone else. But he confirmed, asking if he had a small talk with you alone and both of them let him enter the living room where you were staying.
When he began talking with you, Terdeo quick realize that you did have a crush on him, like most lady either have. But you never force those emotions on him nor dares to confess your love, not to mention that you almost forget about his existence when you learn that he has a boy.
Asking for his son’s name, you continue to question the Duke about Selphius’ taste and if the little boy would like it if you bring toys or sweets to him. Honestly, Terdeo was surprised that you were excited to meet his nephew. It's rare for a noble to be happy if their partner has a child from previous relationships.
You moved with him shortly after the marriage, so excited to meet Selphius that you didn’t notice (or didn’t care) about Dodolea trying to approach you outside the cathedral. That caught his attention even more, and seeing you introduce yourself to the little boy was quite funny.
The little heir knew that his uncle had married, but thought that whoever was the person wouldn’t care about him and he was surprised to see you gifting him with so many gifts such as clothings, sweets and taking your time to get to know him better. Selphius quickly becomes closer to you, yet he is afraid that he will hurt you with his blood. Time goes on with you getting to know the other members of the Lapireon family.
Sercia is a woman who is cold at first, but opens her heart when seeing you interact with Selphius, taking the role of the boy’s caretaker which remembers her of her late family.
There is the doctor of the family, Phineas who is Terdeo and Sercia’s uncle who always looks busy reaching for something. He doesn’t reveal what, but he is someone good to talk with and he enjoys the pastries you send him often.
Then you met Gloria, the matriarch of the family. A woman who pierced red eyes never left your figure during her stay at the household. She questioned every person of the household if any of them told you about the family’s curse. As much as she is happy that none of them reveal the dark truth, Gloria fears that when you discover it, you won’t hesitate to leave this family behind.
One day, where Terdeo didn’t need to work, he took you and Selphius out to have a small picnic in the garden, something that you begged him for a while and that he needed to prove the cookies you and Selphius did for him.
The gentle breeze is cool, meaning that some leaves fall over the three of you, not that none of you much care about it, except Selphius who is trying his best to not let the weather ruin your looks. Moment like this make Terdeo knows he made the right choose when selecting you as his significant other, not only you fit to be Selphius’ parent, great the family with love, but also dedicate the time of your day to help him.
Many hours you spend at his side helping with the paperwork, carrying the files side to side as he guides you. The silence moments where you made a cup of coffee to help him stay awake during the late hours of the night. There was one time where he passed out after long hours of working and you (somehow) placed him on the couch then gave him a blanket to let him have a few hours of proper sleep, but you didn’t return to your shared bedroom, you stayed with him and slept in the chair closer to him.
Did those little acts make his heart softer with you? Yes. Terdeo suspected for a long time that your personality was a cover to only get the positive side of the family, however he changed his mind with the time you live along with him and the others. Even though you signed a marriage contract with him to make sure that you won’t try anything wrong or bad, but why does he regret doing so?
Slicing a piece of pie and giving it to Selphius, the little boy eats it almost in seconds, too excited. While Terdeo drinks a glass of water and you arrange the rest of the food, the boy accidentally cuts himself with the knife. The tiny drops of blood hit his vest.
Both Selphius and Terdeo panicked. They can’t get the blood on you, so the boy runs away from you while protecting his hand or at least he tries so. You grab his hand and as Terdeo failed to hold you back. The red eyes of both Laperion witness a small drop of blood hit your face, the same who made you fall in the ground.
Screams called the rest of the family to the garden to see the disturbing scene. Phineas carried you inside as Gloria and Sercia stayed to comfort Selphius. On the other hand, Terdeo is trying his best to keep calm as he makes his way to follow the doctor.
Unexpectedly, you are still alive after you enter contact with Selphius’ blood, even with high fever and incapable of waking up, you are breathing and muttering words like that sound the names of the family. A miracle that you are still with the living after getting contact with the cursed blood, something that he is thankful for.
Days pass and you don’t look better nor closer to waking up, hands cold as ice and your forehead in flames, your condition isn't the best, but he is glad that you are stronger to hold on to the symptoms and keep breathing as more time goes on.
As expected, the news that Duke/Duchess Lapireon become so Ill that they can’t move away from the bed roam the nation. Their parents made sure to visit to see and Count holds his wife to prevent the woman to scream or fight Terdeo. The woman broken down in the young man’s arms while crying how he sweared to protect them at any cost.
Other people in the nation payed their respect for the Duke/Duchess, sending tem flowers to remember the sweet person they are. The local orphanage sends a letter to their husband to showcase the many acts of benevolence you did there, the children send so many postcards wishing for a better and healthy recovery. And of course, there are those who didn’t hide their true nature. Whispering how a gold digger like you should die, yet they put an effort to hide their faces from Laperion, but one person.
Dodolea was the only person who sent a letter to Terdeo with twisted comments, saying that since you got ill enough to be bedsick, then he would need to marry again soon. He was furious as he read the first few lines of the letter, didn’t hesitate to throw it on the fireplace and watch it burning slowly.
More time passed til you open your eyes to see Selphius reading a book in the chair near the bed. He didn’t call for anyone that moment, seeing his parents finally awake and asking how school was going. To think they just woke up and are already taking care of him is amazing. The two of them spend a little time together till he calls the others.
Unsurprisingly, Terdeo was the first to make his way to your bedroom and yet, he was the last one to speak anything. He just sat in the same chair where his nephew was and stayed in complete silence. Maybe he knew what to say, but preferred to stay quiet and enjoy the cozy moment between you and him.
As the others talk with you, Terdeo’s fingers brush against yours as everyone shows their happiness to see you better and awake. He doesn’t initially notice it, but sensing you entwining his finger makes it clear. Firstly, he almost let it go, but feeling the warmth and seeing that smile of yours after so long, Terdeo continues to hold your hand even after the family leave the two of you alone in the bedroom.
His red eyes don't leave you for a time nor he doesn’t let your hand out of his, Terdeo might never admit by words, but he fears that now you will break the contact and leave the family due to the accident.
“ I understand if you wish to leave.” Terdeo says, voice almost quivering. “ There will be much of paperwork, but I assure-“
“ No!” you interrupt him, raising your voice in desperation. “ I love you, Terdeo. I truly do and so do the others of the Lapireon family, there is no chance I will ever leave this place nor this family.”
You silenced him immediately with those words. He always knew you had feelings for him, but never expected you to have enough courage to say it loud and clear.
“ Listen to me, [name].” he let go of your hands. “ You didn’t recovery enough, we will have a serious talk about it when you get better—“
“ Terdeo!” you cut him off again, now inpatient. With your hands now in his cheeks, holding his face closer to your. “ I. Not. Leaving.”
For a few moments, none of you dare to speak a word after it. Terdeo is in disbelief again, he still struck with the words you just said. His cheeks are pale red like unlike yours, he knows what he has to do now.
You could feel your heart pounding as Terdeo slowly approach his face to your. They were in complete silence as he drew closer to you and when his lips met yours.
His lips were cold, yet brought warmth to you. It felt like a dream coming true, one that you never put much faith in. For a kiss that lasted so little, it felt that everything else faded away and all that mattered was the two of them, lost in each other's embrace.
“ I love you, [name]. It took me a long time to understand it, but I promise that nothing will separate us and we will be together til the very end.”
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@lyomeii stuff || don’t repost
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book-place · 1 year
Text
Everybody Wants to Rule the World
Warnings: various marvel movie spoilers, cursing, violence, drinking, weapons, death, let me know if I missed any :)
Pairings: Avengers x reader platonic
*not my gif*
Summary: You became an avenger at a young age, and grew close with your team
A/N: Welcome to book place’s one year event!!
Inspired by: Everybody Wants to Rule the World by Tears For Fears
Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work
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Welcome to your life
Your eyebrows shot up as you let out a low whistle and turned on your heel, taking in your surroundings, “This place is nice,” You commented.
Tony smiled proudly from beside you, placing his hands on his hips, “I designed it myself.” He announced.
Natasha scowled, walking up from behind him and efficiently delivering a harsh slap upside his head, making the man yelp and grab onto the back of his hair, eyes filled with betrayal.
“Don’t let him fool you,” She said calmly, “Pepper did most of the work, he just likes taking the credit.”
You chuckled lightly at their antics, still taking in the sight of Avengers Tower in all its glory.
“Yeah, yeah,” The man scoffed before turning to and regarding you once more, “Come on, we’ll show you up to your room.”
Being recruited by the Avengers was the very last thing you had expected after a lab accident gone wrong, one that ended up giving you the power to create force fields around yourself and others. But it happened, and now you were being welcomed with open arms into your new home, even though you were just a teenager.
The three of you rode side by side up an elevator. A machine that though simple and common, was even fancier than almost anything you had ever seen.
Everything you looked at was ten times more expensive than anything you had ever even been allowed to look at in your life.
It came to a stop on a floor too high for other buildings and your two newly found teammates allowed you to exit before them.
You had already met the rest of the team, so you weren’t overly nervous about running into any of them on your first day.
“-and this is your room,” Tony concluded his tour of the floor that consisted of all of your rooms and a living room and kitchen, as well as a dining room.
He had explained to you that it was considered the living floor, but there were many others identical to this one if a case or purpose ever arose for it.
Yet again, you couldn’t help but allow your jaw to drop as soon as Natasha gently pushed the door open, revealing a room that could be an entire floor of the house you used to live in.
Tony walked off, calling over his shoulder about having JARVIS alert you of when dinner would be ready, but the redhead stayed behind.
She smiled gently at you, reaching out and squeezing your shoulder gently, “Welcome to the Avengers.” She said softly.
You exhaled a long breath when she began to walk in the direction Stark had just left in, and you tried to wrap your mind around what your life was becoming. The new life you were beginning to lead.
There's no turning back
All of it was too overwhelming. Too loud. Too dangerous. Too unpredictable.
You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t see, you couldn’t even hear yourself think.
It was your first mission as an Avenger and of course, it was going horribly. It was nothing like all the training and simulations you had been put through, or even the sparring you had done with Steve.
This was real- this was deadly. The gunshots wouldn’t just momentarily stun you, they would take away your life in a second, without hesitation.
You could barely even register the arrow that whizzed right past your head, narrowly missing you in such a way that had to be done purposefully, and ending up in the chest of a soilder you had been too distracted to even notice charging at you.
For the first time since the battle had begun, the first clear thought fought through the fog of your brain and became clear to you.
You needed to get out of there.
There were no further thoughts after that. No regret or guilt for leaving your team to fend for themselves. No shame for being a coward on your first time out in the field. Just the rapid, uneven, rising and falling of your chest and the constant ringing in your ears that wouldn’t go away.
Somehow, you had been coherent enough to stumble behind a flipped over vehicle that gave you shelter from the fight.
You sank to the ground unceremoniously and automatically brought your knees up to your chest and your hands to your hair, pulling harshly on the roots.
“Hey, hey-“ Clint dropped into a crouch by your side, placing a hand on your shoulder as his eyes swept over your face in concern, “What is it, kid? What’s wrong?”
All you could manage to do in your pathetic state was snap your eyes up to the man as your breathing came in and out unsteadily.
Suddenly, a look of realization overcame on his features and he reached his arm over and began to gently rub your back up and down. Much to your surprise, his expression was entirely void of the anger and disappointment you would have expected to see there after being found cowering pathetically away from the fight.
“I remember my first mission,” He spoke softly after a moment, eyes still scanning your surroundings for any sign of danger, “It wasn’t even as an avenger- mine was a whole hell of a lot less pressure than yours is. I was just some rookie shield agent on a mission that mattered, but wouldn’t have devastating effects if it went sideways.”
Slowly, your body unconsciously began to relax under his comforting hand and gentle words. He continued with a small chuckle to himself, “I couldn’t even hold my bow correctly. My hands were shaking too much- I’m pretty sure I shit my pants.”
That, at least, made a shaky smile make its way onto your face. It was small, but it was still something.
“It’s okay to be nervous and scared,” Clint spoke again, “Hell, I still feel the fear every time I step into one of these things. But I promise you,” He ducked his head so he could look you in the eyes, “We wouldn’t have picked you to be on our team if each and every one of us didn’t think that you were more than capable of doing this.”
“Really?” The question came out quietly. You hadn’t known that it had been their decision about whether or not to let you onto the team.
The man clapped your shoulder gently, “You’re an avenger, kid. We would never force you into a mission, especially one like this, but we could always use your help. So do you think you can go back out there and help us kick ass?”
A wave of confidence surged over your body and you straightened up and strongly nodded your head once.
He cracked a grin, standing up and helping you to your feet, “That’s what I like to hear.”
Even while we sleep
“Y/n, Y/n, come on. You have to wake up.” Steve shook your shoulders gently but firmly, “We have a mission.”
An incoherent grumble left your lips and you pushed your face farther into the pillow, refusing to open your eyes.
He sighed, “It’s in Sokovia,” He continued to shake you, “And it’s really important, people are counting on us.”
That finally caught your attention, and you reluctantly opened your eyes and threw your blanket off of yourself. You sat up and stretched your arms to the ceiling, “No one told me being an Avenger would mean waking up in the middle of the night,” You whined.
The blond man smiled at you sympathetically, “If we don’t do it, then who will?”
We will find you
“Shit!” Tony exclaimed through the comms, no doubt dodging something as extreme as a missal as he spoke.
“Language!” Steve chimed back instantly, almost as if it was second nature, the sound of his motorcycle revving sounding in the background.
You laughed loudly as you threw up a forcefield around yourself, successfully stopping a round of bullets from penetrating your skin.
“Wait a minute,” Tony chimed back in, “Is anyone going to comment on the fact that Cap just said ‘language’?”
“I will!” You cackled, punching a very confused soldier in the face, “He’s such an old man!”
Laughter from the rest of your team came through your ears as Steve let out a small huff, an explosion coming from the general direction you knew he was in, “It just slipped out,” He defended, “Plus, there’s a kid here.”
A gasp of offension left your lips and you could hear Clint take over your cackling from over comms, Nat even snickering a bit.
“I’m not a kid, Rogers!” You whined in a very child-like manner.
Turning your head to the side, you saw a large group of people rush their way over to Clint, no doubt hoping to overwhelm and overrun the man with their numbers.
With a slight tut of your tongue, though, you threw your hand out in his direction, making a force field form a protective barrier around him, to give him the time he needed to prepare for their attack and take them down with ease.
He turned his head to you with an appreciative nod and you called over with a playful grin, “We’re even now!” Referring to your first mission, merely a few months ago, that he had effortlessly saved you.
It was a joke between the two of you, everytime one of you would save the other, you would say that you were either even with one another or they owed you one, even though you had both long since lost track of all the saves.
Acting on your best behavior
You let out a loud cheer, raising your pool cue in victory with a large grin adorning your features, laughing as Steve let out a playful groan.
The blond man’s friend, Sam, laughed loudly and clapped Cap on the shoulder, “I can’t believe she beat you, and it’s her first time playing!”
Steve jokingly rolled his eyes, reaching over and ruffling your hair in a way that made you scowl.
“Hey! What’s with the long face?” Tony strode over and swing an arm over your shoulder, “It’s a party! There’s no negativity allowed at my party! What did Rogers do to you?”
Said man adopted a look of mock offense as he flitted his eyes over, “Why would you think I did something, Stark?”
“Because it's always you,” He replied simply before steering you away and towards where Bruce and Nat were at the bar with a laugh.
You got there and leaned your forearms against the counter whilst giving the two members of your team smiles of greeting.
“Want a drink?” Tony asked, sliding one across the surface towards you.
Just as your eyes lit up and you began reaching for it, Nat scowled and snatched it just before your fingers could brush against it, “Absolutely not.” She was glaring dangerous daggers at Tony.
“What?” He asked innocently, holding his hands up in surrender, “I was sneaking them at parties when I was way younger than her!”
“And look how you turned out.” The redhead retorted.
Tony’s smile dropped and he let out a noise of offense, but before he could open his mouth and snap back, a large hand clamped down on one of your shoulders.
“Lady Y/n!” Thor's voice boomed, causing you to spin around on your heel with a grin, “Are you enjoying the festivities?”
“I am, Thor, what about you?” You laughed.
“Well, it’s no Asguardian party, but you humans know how to have a much better time than I thought you did.” He exclaimed, eyes still shining with excitement.
Only a little while later, the guests had slowly but surely simmered out, leaving only you and your fellow avengers, along with Doctor Cho and Maria Hill, to lounge around on a couple couches.
“But it’s a trick!” Clint insisted, leaning his head back against the couch while twirling a drumstick in one hand.
“Oh no,” Thor laughed, taking a drink from his glass, “It’s much more than that.”
“‘Whoever be he worthy shall haveth the power!’” He mocked in a deep voice, guestering dramatically to where Thor's hammer rested on the coffee table in the middle of everyone. Clint scoffed, “Whatever, man! It’s a trick!”
You laughed from where you sat on the floor by Nats feet, the woman unconsciously running her fingers through your hair softly.
“Well, please, be my guest.” The Norse god seemed thoroughly amused by the entire situation and waved a hand in his hammer's direction.
“Come on!” Tony encouraged, clearly slightly buzzed from the drinks he kept pouring himself.
“Really?” Clint’s eyes widened, he clearly hadn’t expected to actually have his words entertained.
“Go Clint!” You cheered, pumping a fist in the air as your team chuckled all around you at your words.
Barton pushed himself to his feet and strode over, trying to appear to have much more confidence then he actually was.
“Oh, this is going to be beautiful,” Rhodey snickered, and you nodded in agreement.
“Clint, you've had a tough week, we won't hold it against you if you can't get it up.” Tony called to the man. Everyone laughed again.
“You know I’ve seen this before, right?” He thought it was just a parlor trick.
As soon as he placed his hand on the handle and moved to lift it though, he was met with much more resistance than anticipated.
He turned to Thor and blinked once before moving back to sit down, “I still don’t know how you do it.”
“Smell the silent judgment?” Tony snickered at his own words.
“Please, Stark, by all means.” He gestured towards the table.
“Oh, here we go.” You mumbled in amusement.
You watched as one by one, almost every member of your team tried- and failed- to lift the ancient object off the table, all while you sat back, cackling at their attempts.
“Lady Y/n,” Everyone’s attention was turned back to you, “Why don’t you give it a try?”
You glanced back at Nat, who shrugged with a small smile and took a sip from her beer, before shrugging yourself and making your way over to the table.
Readying yourself, you wrapped your hand around the handle and began to use all your strength to try and pull it up.
Perhaps you had been imagining it, maybe your mind was playing tricks on you, but you could’ve sworn that you felt the object shift slightly under your fingers.
But before anything else could happen, a loud screeching noise rang out through the room, making everyone flinch and divert their attention to where a robotic looking figure came limping through a doorway.
Turn your back on Mother Nature
You turned your head and gave Pietro a firm nod, who smirked at your signal before running at full speed through a row of robots, destroying them in the blink of an eye.
When he did so, you let out a whoop of celebration and stuck a hand out for him to rush back over and high five you.
The twins had realized their faults with being on Ultrons side and immediately rushed to assist your team. And as much as you loved the avengers, and while the Maximoff’s were both technically older than you, it was nice to have people closer to your age again. The three of you immediately clicked.
“Nice one!” You cheered, throwing your hands out to create a force field around the two of you just in time to stop some debris from falling over and flattening you.
“As glad as I am that the two of you are getting along,” Cap grunted through the comms, a background sound of clambering metal coming through, “Please keep your focus.”
“Why, we are very focused, Captain America.” Pietro’s thick accent rang through, sending you a cheeky smile.
Nevertheless, the two of you did get back to taking everything more seriously, and you quickly rushed to aid a panicked group of people who were trying to get to the helicarrier to get them out of the city.
You threw your hands up again and created a force field around all of you and you ushered them towards more help, “This way!” You called over the nearby sound of gunfire.
Waving off the cries of thanks you received from them after handing them off to some other helpers, you began jogging over to where you knew Wanda to be- wanting to check in on the girl- all whilst taking down Ultron's soldiers along the way.
“How’s it going?” You asked when she came into view.
A small smirk made its way onto her face, one so similar to Pietro’s that it left no doubt in your mind that they were twins, and she quickly sent out a beam of red energy into an incoming bots chest. It shattered into a thousand pieces upon impact.
“I think I’m handling it well.” She replied.
You laughed, wrapping a forcefield around one that was close to you just as it sent a bullet flying at you, making it bounce back at itself.
“Y/n?” Clint’s voice suddenly came through the comms, making your head snap up, though he was no doubt at least a few streets away, “I need some backup over here.”
With one final nod to Wanda, you turned on your heel and began racing to where you knew he was positioned, “On my way.”
After only one slight misstep in an alley that almost caused you to tumble into an ever collapsing brick wall, you pushed your way into a clearing and came to a sudden halt, breath catching in your throat and eyes widening at the sight before you. You could have sworn that your heart had even stopped beating all together.
It all happened in a slow motion fashion, only about ten yards away, Clint was in a squat position, cradling a kid to his chest and using himself as a shield to protect him. One of Ultron's robots hung in the air, aiming all of its available weapons at the man.
Without your mind even beginning to register what it saw, your body jumped into action and you leapt forward at full pace, throwing your arm out to send a shield the duo's way.
You were too slow. Too slow. Too slow. Too slow. Too-
Pietro got there before you could, before his faster than light brain could even compute that you had already gotten them out of harm's way, and he stood in front of them. His arms were stretched out to the sides as he used himself to barricade them from the incoming round of bullets.
He fell to the ground less than a second later, mumbling something that you weren’t able to hear over the ringing in your ears.
Immediately, you fell onto the ground beside him, your defenses collapsing as you did so, and a sob ripped through your throat as you hurriedly turned the boy over, searching for the lost cause of any sign of life.
You didn’t know how long you sat there, crying out and rocking his body back and forth. A boy you barely knew, yet felt so connected to. Someone who deserved to live.
Everybody wants to rule the world
Collateral damage.
You never liked those words. It always insinuated that something was broken, something that could no doubt be made whole again. But that word was too often used for people. People that could never be fixed- be brought back. People that could never be replaced.
This was the first time you ever experienced losing someone on your own team while out in the field, let alone someone you would consider a friend.
The rest of your battle with Ultron had been done numbly, your brain having gone into autopilot mode and leaving you to not even be able to think about what had just happened.
But then it was done, and you and the avengers were left to patrol Sokovia while everyone else was safely taken off, just in case something else were to occur.
Immediately, you had wandered off and found a quiet spot near the edge of the floating city and plopped down a safe distance away from the end, pulling your knees up to your chest.
The sound of soft footsteps made you look up, only to come face to face with a tear stained Wanda.
Guilt pooled in your stomach when you automatically came to the realization that you had been mourning a boy you barely knew while his own twin sister was left to suffer with it alone.
“Wanda, I’m so-“
“Shh,” She shushed you as you began to cry again, tears of her own slipping out of her green orbs, “I know, I know.”
She sank to the ground beside you and you held each other, both crying over the boy who hadn’t had enough time.
“I should’ve saved him- I should’ve noticed him there.” You hiccuped, clinging tightly to her shirt.
“It’s not your fault.” She whispered, resting her head atop your own, “You did nothing wrong, it wasn’t at all your fault.”
You were the only one that seemed to care- really care- about what happened to her brother. And not just that, but you were still just a kid- a kid that blamed herself for what had happened to him. Something that was completely out of your control, but you still took on the burden of the incident anyway.
Despite what you may think, Wanda could never hate you after today. If anything, it made her like you even more.
It's my own design, it’s my own remorse
“Are you getting a sense of deja vu? I’m getting a sense of deja vu.” Tony rambled.
“What do you mean?” You turned to him with a single raised eyebrow.
“You, me, Romanoff.” He gestured to the three of you walking in a line through the newly built Avengers Compound, where you and your team would all be staying now.
The redhead shared a playfully suspicious look with you, “What about us, Stark?”
The man grinned, as if having been waiting for the question to be asked, “This is just like the first time n/n moved into the tower.”
Nat chuckled when she realized what he meant and she threw a fond smile at you, “That’s true.”
“You were so little back then,” Tony teased, reaching over and ruffling your hair.
You scowled slightly at the action- no real anger behind your expression, though- and sidestepped his hand while moving to fix your hair.
“I was not.” You grumbled.
“I mean, you still kind of are.” Natasha smirked a little as she spoke.
Your mouth dropped open in betrayal, “Hey!”
Help me to decide
“Which color?” Wanda asked with a wide smile, holding up the different vials that all varied wildly in shades.
You quieted, eyes jumping from one to another as you thought it over for a moment before pointing to the middle one excitedly, “That one!”
“I’ll do the red.” Nat piped up from behind you, sinking down onto the mattress by your side.
“Perfect,” Wanda cheered, taking out your designated colors and one for herself as you all got ready to paint each other's nails.
The three of you had claimed to the rest of the team that you needed a girls night, before quickly retiring to Natasha’s room and promptly closing the door in Tony’s face, who had pouted and whined about not being invited.
You sighed happily, relaxing against the bed's backboard as Nat painted your nails and Wanda braided the woman’s hair, “This is nice, I needed this.”
“Believe it or not, I’ve never had a girls day,” Natasha had a slightly amused tone as she spoke.
“Me neither!” Wanda chorused.
“Same!” You piped up. The three of you fell into laughter, “But this is how it looks in the movies! So I thought, why not give it a try?”
Help me make the most of freedom and of pleasure
“Voila!” Tony announced dramatically, throwing his arms out to the side to present what lay inside the dining room that had been practically untouched for the first few months of living in the compound.
Everyone looked around in shock, even Nats lips parted a bit.
Covering the table in the center of the room where foods of all shapes and sizes. All different kinds, with desserts and fast food bags, and even some food that looked homemade.
“What is all of this, Stark?” Steve looked around at the sight before him.
“Dinner.” Tony replied in a ‘duh’ tone.
An excited squeal left your lips and you latched your hand onto Wanda’s and quickly pulled the girl over to the table, taking a plate and beginning to fill it with food.
The girl chuckled along with a couple other members of the team at your antics, before the others quickly followed on your tail, filling their plates to the brim before taking seats around the vast table.
For the most part, everyone ate alone on their own times, so this was the first time that you were all doing it together since moving in.
You watched with a wide smile as everyone interacted, telling stories and filling the space with laughter. This- this is what you would picture if someone ever brought up the idea of a family dinner.
Nothing ever lasts forever
You didn’t like this- not one bit.
The heavy stare of Secretary Ross made you squirm uncomfortably in your chair. His gaze held enough accusation and judgment to make you more than a little bit uneasy.
“The world owes the Avengers an unpayable debt,” The man continued a spiel that you and the rest of your team sat through in a heavy silence, it felt like you were children being lectured by a teacher for doing something wrong in class, “You have fought for us, protected us, risked your lives . . . but while a great many people see you as heroes, there are some . . . who would prefer the word ‘vigilantes’.”
The word made you cringe slightly, but you stayed silent, eyes trained ahead. You didn’t even look away as you felt Steve and Tony’s eyes both flicker towards you simultaneously. You sat between the blond man and Natasha with the rest of the team spread out around the table.
“And what word would you use, Mr. Secretary?” Nat tilted her head to the side, eyes narrowing slightly in a way that promised danger, though her tone was as innocent as it comes.
Ross scoffed, “How about ‘dangerous’?” His eyes swept back and forth over each and every one of you, “What would you call a group of US-based, enhanced individuals who routinely ignore sovereign borders and inflict their will wherever they choose and who, frankly, seem unconcerned about what they leave behind?”
Your hands tightened around the arm of your chair, knuckles whitening slightly from the sheer grip you had on the wood.
When all of you stayed silent, he sidestepped to reveal a large screen behind him. He pressed a button on a small remote he held.
“New York.” He spoke as news footage from years prior flashed onto the screen.
The Chitauri Leviathan crashing into skyscrapers. Citizens running around in a panicked frenzy. Bruce in his Hulk form smashing into buildings.
“Washington DC.”
The three Helicarriers from that day firing at each other, crashing into one another. Massive waves caused by their crashes engulfing nearby citizens.
“Sokovia.”
The city rising from the ground. Citizens screaming a crying. Fires erupting across various buildings. A brief clip of you and Pietro fighting side by side.
From the corner of your eye, you watched Wanda’s head fall at the sight on the television, and anger immediately began flickering in a small flame in your stomach at Ross for making her watch that.
“Ireland.”
Your eyes immediately snapped back over to the news footage playing in a horrifying montage across the screen.
Ireland had been where you were for your first mission. The one that you had frozen up on, where it took Clint to snap you out of your daze.
You had later learned that your mess up had cost many lives of innocent civilians, and that was something you had to live with to the day.
Clips of dead bodies littering the streets flashed across the monitor.
Painfully, you ripped your eyes away, unable to look at it any longer in fear of throwing up at what you saw.
“Okay. That’s enough.” Steve immediately sat up straighter when he noticed your pained look, his voice coming out as a demand to the Secretary.
He didn’t argue, clicking off the screen, as if he knew he would get that exact reaction out of all of you, “For the past four years, you've operated with unlimited power and no supervision. That's an arrangement the governments of the world can no longer tolerate. But I think we have a solution.”
A nearby aide shuffled over and handed him a thick document that he immediately passed to Wanda, who briefly glanced at it before sliding it over to Rhodey.
“The Sokovia Accords. Approved by 117 countries . . . it states that the Avengers shall no longer be a private organization. Instead, they'll operate under the supervision of a United Nations panel, only when and if that panel deems it necessary.” He explained as if it were as simple as that.
Your ears were ringing. This was starting to become too much- everything about this ‘meeting’, and you were beginning to get to the point where you didn’t know if you could handle it.
“The Avengers were formed to make the world a safer place. I feel we've done that.” Steve argued.
Almost as if he anticipated that, Ross didn’t miss a beat, “Tell me, Captain, do you know where Thor and Banner are right now?”
Your head snapped up at the sounds of their names and you met the Secretary’s eyes.
“If I misplaced a couple of thirty megaton nukes . . . you can bet there'd be consequences. Compromise. Reassurance. That's how the world works. Believe me, this is the middle ground.” He finally tore his eyes away from you to address the rest of the team.
“So, there are contingencies.” It wasn’t a question, Rhodey already knew the answer.
“Three days from now, the UN meets in Vienna to ratify the Accords.” He glanced at you once more, “Talk it over.”
Just as he was about to turn to leave, Natasha’s voice drew him to a halt, “And if we come to a decision you don't like?”
It was silent as you all waited for him to answer, and he gave her a plain smile, “Then you retire.”
It wasn’t too long later that you were all sitting around one of the many living rooms in the compound, you on one of the couches with your head in your hands as Steve read and reread the Accords from beside you.
Sam and Rhodey were arguing back and forth about what to do, while everyone else silently mulled it over to themselves.
“Secretary Ross has a Congressional Medal of Honor, which is one more than you have.” Rhodes pointed out, as if that would be the deciding factor in everything.
The other man shot back his retort that only lead to more bickering that you couldn’t be bothered to even try to listen to, some other teammates of yours getting roped into it as well.
This was not good. Your team- your family- were going in circles as they argued with each other about the fate of the Avengers. This could very well be the day that they ended, because if the Accords weren’t what teared you apart, it would be the endless disagreements that were coming with this whole thing.
You sat back and watched as your family was slowly pulled apart by the seams.
“Tony, you chose to do that- if we sign this, we surrender our right to choose. What if this panel sends us somewhere we don't think we should go? What if there is somewhere we need to go, and they don't let us? We may not be perfect, but the safest hands are still our own.”
You had no idea who you agreed with, which side you were taking- it was all too much at the moment for you to properly think it out- but you had to admit that Steve did have a good point.
“If we don't do this now, it's gonna be done to us later. That's the fact. That won't be pretty.” Tony’s voice had almost shifted to one that resembled begging. He didn’t want you all to split up over this anymore than you did.
“You’re saying they’ll come for me.” Wanda whispered, her arms moving to wrap around her stomach.
“We would protect you.” Vision automatically assured her.
“Both of you.” Tony added, locking eyes with you as he said it.
You bit down on your bottom lip and cast your eyes downwards.
Even though you didn’t know your own viewpoint on the matter, you didn’t understand why your team couldn’t pull together- now more than ever- to come to an agreement on something. At least to ensure that you would all stay together.
The bickering just kept going and you couldn’t take it anymore, you pushed yourself off the couch and hurried out of the room, not paying any mind to how the team quieted behind you and sadly watched you go.
Everybody wants to rule the world
“So,” Tony strolled over, leaning forward and resting his forearms on the railing before bumping his shoulder against yours playfully, “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
You were out on a balcony, standing there and overlooking the compound grounds as you thought, “I don’t know what to do.”
“That’s okay,” He assured you, “You’re just a kid, you don’t have to know what to do about all of this.”
You bit down on your bottom lip gently, “I hate it when you all fight.”
Tony sighed, shoulders sagging and head dropping a little bit, “I know, I hate it too.” His voice was quieter than before
“Why can’t we just keep doing what we’re doing?” You asked softly, eyes trained somewhere in the distance, “Why can’t we just go back to the way things used to be? Without the government dictating what we do.”
The man’s head turned to you in surprise, “You don’t mean that.”
You shook your head, “No, I do.” You were finally getting a sense of what you thought about everything going on.
“Listen, I know you’re upset about everything, but you don’t have to-“
“Why would we let them control us?” You turned to face him as well, “That’s not how we’ve always done things, why would we change now? We’ve been fine on our own.”
“I know you think that,” He tried again, eyes and tone growing slightly desperate, “But signing these Accords and letting the government have a little bit of control over us will be what keeps us together. Not signing them will tear us apart.”
Again, you shook your head stubbornly, “No, the UN will just tear us apart. Things will change. I’m not ready for things to change.”
“You need to sign these Accords, n/n,” It almost sounded like Tony was begging at this point, “I promise, once you do that we can figure out everything else.”
You looked at him sadly, “I’m not ready for them to control us, Tony. I’m not ready for things to change.”
Before he could even open his mouth again, you turned on your heel and went back inside, searching for Steve to let him know of your decision.
Tony dropped his head into his hands from behind you.
There's a room where the light won't find you
Your eyes swept back and forth, going over the plan again and again, letting Steve’s previous words ring out in your head.
Though you tried to keep your face neutral, you knew that your nerves were portrayed through your expression, showing everyone in the airport how scared you really were.
As you looked over the faces of those who signed the Accords, you couldn’t find it in yourself to blame them- as much as you tried.
At the end of the day, they were just doing what they thought was right, just like you were. Except their methods didn’t involve going back to the way things used to be, theirs included being controlled by people who had no idea what being an Avenger was really like- what it took.
Before you knew it, both sides began charging at one another, forcing you to do the same.
You didn’t like this, the thought of fighting against your loved ones made you sick to your stomach, so you had come up with a plan beforehand. All you would do was protect those around you by channeling your powers to generate force fields around them and come to their aid when necessary.
Before the fight had even begun, you relayed this to Steve, who had nodded in understanding.
So that’s what you did.
When T’Challa automatically sprang forward to lunge at Bucky, you threw a shield around the man, sending the king flying backwards upon impact.
You cringed a little, “Sorry, your majesty!” You called.
That wasn’t exactly how you pictured your first interaction with the king of Wakanda going.
You ran around, helping others when they needed it before moving on, making sure you were constantly rotating to be there at any given moment for anyone.
Your steps faltered though, when Tony flew down in his suit and touched the ground only a few yards away.
“What are you doing, kid?” He asked sadly, “Please get out of here, you’re going to get hurt.”
“I need to help them, Tony. I’m not going to leave them behind.”
“Listen-“ He lifted his hand subconsciously as he spoke to you, not meaning anything by it, but he froze when you flinched at the gesture and threw your hands up to create a force field all around yourself.
You realized what you had done too late, and you swallowed thickly as a deadly silence settled between the two of you, both completely tuning out the sounds of chaos from the battle going on around you.
“Did you-“ His words came out slightly stuttered, “You didn’t think that- that I was going to shoot you, did you?”
You didn’t. You really didn’t. But that didn’t explain why your body had worked by itself to try and naturally protect you. As if you had been in any danger in the first place.
Before you could even try and open your mouth to speak, Visions voice cut you off, calling out from a far, “Mr. Stark!”
Steve and Bucky were making their way to the hanger that held the quinjet, the blond man desperately trying to get your attention to flag you down and get you on the plane with them.
You realized though in that moment that getting over there wasn’t in the cards for you, but you could distract Tony so the duo could make their escape.
Subtly, you shook your head, and you watched Steve’s face drop in slight horror, but you didn’t allow yourself to dwell on that as Bucky gently took his best friend by the shoulder to continue to steer him out of there.
Taking Tony’s distracted form to your advantage, you threw a shield around him just in time to stop him from moving to go after them, keeping him stuck in place.
“I’m sorry, Tony,” You spoke, “But I can’t let you do that.”
Holding hands while the walls come tumbling down
“Y/n.” Your head snapped up and you sprang to your feet, hand already moving to the gun you had concealed under the table.
You froze in place though, standing in the middle of your kitchen, staring at two of the people you quite honestly didn’t know if you would ever see again.
After what happened in Germany, Cap had freed you and the others from prison, thereby forcing every one of you to go into hiding for what you had done. He had begged you to come with him- all of them begged for you to go with at least one of them- if only for the fact that they could look after you. You were still just a kid.
But after everything that had gone down between the team- not that it could even be called that anymore- you had been too full of pain and betrayal to even handle being around any of them at the moment. So, you refused assistance from any of them and slipped away the first chance you got. You couldn't stay with them, not then at least, you had to go out on your own. You had to take time to process everything that had happened.
You had somehow ended up in a small town in Ireland- maybe it was to stay in touch with a small part of who you used to be when you had still been an Avenger- but you were old enough at that point to get a job and buy your own apartment. It was by no means a luxurious life, not like the life you had been living in the tower or the compound, but it was peaceful and quiet. Exactly what you needed to lay low and sort yourself out.
But now, you stood face to face with Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff and you didn’t know what to do. You could physically feel your heart contracting in your chest and you found it hard to breathe.
Limply, your hand fell away from your gun and the three of you just stared at each other in silence.
Steve cleared his throat, “Something big’s about to go down. In Wakanda.” It was like he wanted to say something else, but forced himself to get those words out.
“Why come to me?” Your voice was scratchy, the question pained you to speak aloud.
They both had sad looks on their faces, “We need you.” Nat spoke softly.
You shook your head back and forth, “You don’t need me.”
You knew it. They knew it.
“Of course we do.” Steve insisted, “You’re a vital part of the team.”
An incredulous laugh left your lips, you couldn’t help it, “Team? What team?” Your eyes hardened, “There hasn’t been any team in a long time.”
“N/n, I know you’re hurt-“ Rogers moved as if to come closer to you.
You took a stumbling step back, an expression full of pain overcoming your face. You had thought you moved past this, with all the time you had, you really did, but seeing them again, it opened up new wounds you had thought long since closed.
“Don’t.” You spoke firmly, doing everything in your power to keep your voice from wavering.
He stilled, releasing a small sigh through his nose.
“There’s a threat,” He spoke from afar, “Far greater than anything any of us have ever faced. And he’s coming here. We need your help to stop him.”
“What kind of threat?” As hurt as you were, you still felt as if it was your responsibility to protect the world, and you couldn’t just back away after hearing that it was in danger.
“His name is Thanos.” Nat informed you, hesitantly taking a small step forward, continuing when you didn’t flinch away, “A lot of us are going to Wakanda to hold him off, he’s trying to get to the mind stone.”
“Vision?”
True, you had both been on opposite sides of the fight in Germany, but that didn’t mean you didn’t still care about him.
The nod of confirmation you received from both of them was enough to make you suck in a breath.
“He’s dangerous, we can’t let him get that stone.” Steve spoke.
Finally, you locked eyes with the blond man, taking a moment before speaking again, “Fine, I’m in.”
You would be fighting with the Avengers again. Side by side with your family, having each other's backs and looking out for one another. Just like the way things used to be. The way things should be.
Nat smiled softly, taking the final step to reach you before lifting her hand and gently cupping your cheek, “You’ve grown up so much.”
Subconsciously, you leaned into her touch before bringing your arms gently around her for a long overdue hug.
After her, you moved to hug Steve too, biting down on your bottom lip to try and stop the incoming tears, “I’m sorry.” You whispered.
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He reassured you softly, knowing exactly what you were apologizing for, “You left because it was the right thing for you to do.”
They ushered you into the Quinjet they brought to get you shortly after, and you finally piped up again once you set a course for Wakanda, “How did you find me, anyway?”
Natasha briefly looked over her shoulder at you, “We tracked you down shortly after you left, but knew that we needed to give you your space for as long as we could.”
You swallowed, “Oh,”
“Tony knew where you were too,” She explained, “He kept tabs on you.”
Your eyebrows furrowed, “He knew where I was but he didn’t have me arrested again?”
Steve looked at you, “You know he never wanted to do that to you in the first place.
You nodded slightly, you did know.
Slight embarrassment took over you though, you thought you had been good at covering your tracks, but apparently not against an assassin and billionaire.
After a while, the quinjet landed and the three of you exited. You sucked in a sharp breath when you saw Wanda, Bruce, Vision, T’Challa, and Bucky all standing near the ship, smiling welcomingly at you.
Though you didn’t know Bucky or T’Challa that well, you gave the former a small hug in greeting and the former a polite wave before moving to tightly hug Wanda, Bruce, and Vision.
“It’s good to see you guys,” You said after pulling away.
Wanda smiled, “It’s good to see you too, n/n.”
“I hate to interrupt,” The king of Wakanda did in fact sound very guilty, “But we must be going.”
“Y/n, I want you to stay here with Wanda and Vision, help protect the stone.” Steve addressed you, and you nodded in affirmation.
So there you stood, watching with a worried expression from the windows as your team along with hundreds of Wakandan soldiers marched into battle.
You cast a glance at Wanda after a few moments, “I can’t just stand by and watch.” You whispered.
She smiled, nodding and reaching over to squeeze your shoulder, as if she had been expecting you to say that, “I know,” She admitted before nodding her head out the window, “Go. We’ll be fine.”
After one last bit of hesitation, you spun on your heel and took off running outside, joining in on the fight that had already begun. Your first fight back as an Avenger.
When they do I'll be right behind you
Not once, but twice your team had been ripped apart. Once by their own undoing and once from the hands of Thanos. You didn’t know which hurt more.
What had happened? What had made the universe decide to leave you alive and well while half of the Avengers- half of the universe- got snapped to mere dust and blown out of existence?
How cruel could the world be that you were forced to sit there, screaming and crying until your throat was raw as you watched your family be teared away from you while you sat back, completely unharmed?
You should never have left Wanda in the first place, you should have stayed like Steve had specially told you to to protect the stone. Everything might have turned out differently if you had.
You didn’t know how long you had been there, collapsed in a heap on the ground in the spot right next to where Wanda had gotten snapped away and Vision's dead body lay off to the side, until Natasha and Steve had broken through the trees, eyes frantically searching every which way.
When her gaze landed on you, the woman let out a breath of relief and rushed to your side, falling to her knees and scooping you up into her arms, holding you tightly against her.
So you sat there, hands desperately grasping at her clothing and cried into her chest while she rubbed your back up and down, tears of her own swimming in her eyes.
“I know, I know.” She spoke gently, rocking you both back and forth.
Steve dropped onto his knees beside the two of you, a look of pure exhaustion and despair on his face as his tearful, devastatingly blue eyes locked with your own orbs.
“I’m sorry,” He whispered as if it was his fault. A million different apologies laying behind his eyes.
I’m sorry for dragging you back into this. I’m sorry that we lost. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop him. I’m sorry-
You threw yourself into his arms, wrapping your own around his neck and continuing your crying as he hugged you back tightly.
You had lost.
So glad we've almost made it
“It’s my fault.”
It had been five years since that day in Wakanda. Since half the universe had been erased from existence.
Only twenty days after the battle, a woman named Carol had showed up with a ship that held none other than Tony Stark, a man you thought to have been snapped away with everyone else.
You, along with Nat, had lived in the compound, desperately trying to keep together a world that was no longer there.
It was almost always quiet, nothing to report, nothing going on in the world. Most of your days consisted of sitting around with Nat, waiting for something that might never happen.
The woman looked up from her breakfast at you in surprise, “What do you mean?” She asked.
You sighed, this was the first time you were going to open up to her about the guilt that had been eating away at you about what had happened.
“I left Wanda and Vision,” You whispered, eyes clouding over with sadness. You learned long ago that you had almost no tears left in your body to cry. “Even after Steve specifically told me to stay and protect the stone, I left them and Thanos got to them.”
Nat looked startled, never had she thought you were blaming yourself in that way. Sure, everyone that hadn’t been blipped felt some form of responsibility for what happened, but after all this time, how could she not have noticed just how much of the burden you took upon yourself?
“That wasn’t your fault,” She spoke immediately, “Nothing about that was your fault. Thanos would have gotten what he wanted, whether you were there or not.”
You quieted after that, neither of you bringing the conversation up again, allowing the day to pass without mention of it again.
Pretty soon though, Steve showed up, Scott following shortly after- a man who had supposedly been blipped away.
The three of you were quick to usher him in and demand that he explained himself, only to come to the realization that for the first time in five years, a tiny flicker of hope was set off within you. For the first time in five years, there may be a chance to set everything right. To bring everyone back.
Only one thing was left to do, you all had to pay a visit to Tony and convince him to go along with the plan.
Almost right after getting back, Tony had slipped away, and you let him, figuring he just needed a little time, but you hadn’t seen him a single time in these five years. The only form of communication going between the two of you was the occasional text to make sure the other was doing alright.
You took a deep breath, stepping out of the car and gently closing the door behind you, taking in the sight of Tony’s house, which- even in the middle of nowhere- was beautiful.
The man stopped walking on his porch when he caught sight of the group of you, and the two of you briefly made eye contact before you watched him break it and heave out a sigh.
You all walked up to him, and he pulled you in for a hug, planting a quick kiss on the side of your head before turning to address everyone else, “What is it?” He cut right to the chase.
So Scott began explaining it to him- everything you had been told earlier.
“In Layman's terms, it means you're not coming home.” Tony sighed, running a hand down his face.
“I did.” Scott argued.
“No, you accidentally survived.” Tony immediately shot back, “It's a billion to one cosmic fluke. And now you wanna pull off a... What do you call it?”
“A time heist?” You offered- no doubt- unhelpfully.
Nat looked down to hide her smirk at your words.
“Yeah, a time heist. Of course, why didn't we think of this before? Oh, because it's laughable? Because it's a pipedream?” Tony’s sarcastic words had a bite to them.
Your amusement, along with Natasha’s, immediately dropped and you averted your eyes to the ground.
“The stones are in the past. We can go back and get them.” Scott never gave up, you would give him that.
“We can snap our own fingers.” Nat continued.
“We can bring everyone back.” You whispered, eyes lifting to meet Tony’s, and you saw the briefest flicker of hesitation for the first time since arriving.
Then, all at once, the hesitation was gone and the incredulousness was back, “Or screw it up worse than he already has, right?”
“I don't believe we would.” Steve sounded like he truly believed his words, and that made you feel better.
You began tuning the rest out after that, when they still kept bickering back and forth. It was bringing back too many memories of the Accords.
“Tony,” Steve spoke softly, “I get it. And I'm happy for you, I really am. But this is a second chance.”
“I got my second chance right here, Cap. I can't roll the dice again. If you don't talk shop, you can stay for lunch.” He seemed genuinely sad.
Everyone turned to leave, but Tony called to you, making you pause, “N/n, wait up.”
You exchanged one glance with Nat before pulling yourself to a halt and letting the others part way and you turned to Tony.
“I really am sorry,” He said, “I just can’t risk it.”
You smiled a soft, understanding smile, and reached over to squeeze his hand, “I know, Tony, it’s alright.”
He shook his head, averting his eyes, “It’s not that I don’t want to bring them back- of course I do. I would do anything to be with them again, but I refuse to let my family become in danger because of it.”
“Tony,” He turned his gaze back to you, “Don’t worry about it, we’ll figure out another way.”
He bit down on his bottom lip before slowly nodding his head and letting his hand drop from yours, “Alright.”
With one last smile, you turned yet again to go, but he stopped you again.
“N/n?” You turned your head, “You’re always welcome here- always.”
So sad they had to fade it
You couldn’t believe it, you could hardly breathe as your head whipped around in shock.
For the first time in five years, tears of happiness and relief instead of despair and regret filled your eyes as all around you, Wakandan soldiers, Avengers- your family- that had all been snapped away filed out of portals every which way, joining you, Steve, Thor, and Tony to fight against Thanos and his army.
You could have sobbed in relief when your eyes landed on Wanda, Bucky, T’Challa, Stephen, Sam, and so many more of the ones you lost came to stand by your side, all looking exactly as they did the day they were torn away.
You didn’t even get to reunite with any of them though, as everyone began charging forward and beginning the fight.
More than anything, you wished that Nat was still there with you, that she hadn’t sacrificed herself for that damned stone and she could see that she hadn’t given up hope for nothing. That what she had died for was worth it- it was all worth it. Everyone was back and it was all because of her, because of her sacrifice.
Forcing those thoughts out of your mind, you purposefully shifted your attention so you could focus solely on the fight at hand.
Immediately, you placed a force field around yourself as a Chitauri lunged at you, stumbling slightly at the sheer force it used as it continued to claw at you, before you quickly thrust your hands out, sending it flying backwards into some other nearby aliens. They all went tumbling to the ground upon impact.
That continued, Chitauri after Chitauri, before another one coming at you was swiftly thrown to the side by a familiar red wisp of light. The same kind you never knew if you were going to see again.
Your head quickly whipped to the side where Wanda stood, eyes glowing red and hand outstretched.
Choking back on a sob, you dropped all your defenses and flew across the couple of yards separating you and jumped into her arms, pulling yourself tightly against her.
“Wands…” You cried, hugging her as tightly as you could despite the ongoing battle around the two of you.
“Hi,” She breathed out, hugging you with the same amount of desperation that you held her with and you quickly realized why.
For you, it had been five years. For her, it had been just over five minutes. Five minutes since she was forced to kill Vision, the man she loved, and lost against Thanos.
When you pulled away, you caught T'Challa's eye, who was only a short distance away, and exchanged a nod of greeting with him.
“We’ll catch up later,” She moved to cup your cheek and look you in the eyes before placing a gentle kiss against your forehead, “Be careful.”
You smiled, leaning into her touch, “You too.”
Quickly, you spun on your heel and rushed off, taking down soldiers left and right.
“My, my, that’s an interesting talent.”
For a brief second, you froze before turning to face Thanos, the person responsible for every piece of pain you had felt in the last five years.
His unnerving eyes were trained solely on you, and you couldn’t help but feel a wave of rage hit you and you let out a scream, charging at the man with outstretched arms, immediately encompassing him in an unbreakable force field.
Thanos’s eyes flickered with surprise and he swung his sword out to your shield, only for it to bounce back and narrowly missing his arm.
Slowly, you moved your hands together, making the shield shrink around his large frame in the process, forcing him to condense his body to try and fit the space growing increasingly smaller and smaller. It would only be a matter of seconds before it crushed him entirely.
You made the fatal mistake of being too distracted with extracting your revenge that you hadn’t noticed the Chitauri that was creeping behind you until it tackled you to the ground.
A small scream escaped your lips as you went crashing against the hard floor and Thanos smirked as your concentration was dropped, bringing your shields down with it. He rose to his full height and stalked over to you, picking you up by the neck, effectively cutting off your airway.
You began gasping for breath immediately, trying to thrash around in his hold, trying to do anything to make him drop you as your feet barely even touched the ground.
Dots began to dance around your vision and you could tell that it was all about to go black in less than a second, before the hand swiftly dropped you, and you fell into a heap on the ground, coughing violently.
“Lady Y/n!” Thor immediately sank to your side on the ground, “Are you alright?”
Steve and Tony, who- along with Thor- had knocked Thanos off of you, continued to go after him, hitting him with blast after hit in hopes of making any sort of damage.
With one last cough, you took a gasping breath and shakily looked up at Thor, “I’m alright.” Your voice was scratchy and you moved to stand up.
The man’s eyebrows furrowed and he gently held you down, “You are in no state to go on with this fight.”
Your eyes widened, “But, Thor-“
You cut yourself off as you caught sight of something over his shoulder, and you paled further than you thought as possible, becoming nauseated.
“I am inevitable.” Thanos’s voice traveled and he snapped his fingers.
You tensed, eyes immediately whipping around as you looked for any sign of yourself or others to be dusted.
But nothing happened, and your gaze slowly dragged over to where Tony was, collapsed to his knees on the ground, and a scream left your lips at what you saw.
His was in physical pain as energy surged through him from all six of the infinity stones sitting on his armor, and he briefly made eye contact with you.
It’s okay, is what his eyes so desperately tried to relay to you.
Tony Stark turned back to Thanos with a hard look, “And I… an Iron Man.”
He snapped.
Everybody wants to rule the world
Pepper walked by all of you with a sad smile, tightly grasping onto Morgan’s hand as they went by.
You were frozen, stuck with a stiff form as you watched the woman placed a wreath memorial to Tony in the lake. It was a small tribute to the man, it had his first arc reactor placed in it.
Everyone stood around you, tears of their own laying unshed in their eyes, only for a few of them to drop when Pepper took in a sharp breath and stepped back.
You were yet to move, even after everyone had slowly disbanded and began muttering amongst themselves, you just stared at the wreath as it moved slowly from side to side in the rippling waves.
All at once you had lost Tony and Natasha. The first two people to introduce you to your new life as an avenger. You lost two family members at the same time and you were so numb inside that you could hardly feel much of anything.
The numbness had come after the searing pain that had taken place in your chest at their loss, now nothing but a dull sting that you knew was bound to come back in full swing at any moment.
“Hey, kid.” Clint greeted gently, coming over to stand beside you.
You couldn’t even manage a hum of acknowledgment.
Wanda moved up to your other side, extanching a glance with Hawkeye as she did so. But you paid no mind to their concerned looks.
Wordlessly, the woman wrapped her arm around your shoulder and pulled you to your chest, perhaps trying to comfort and receive that same comfort.
It dawned on you suddenly, something you had never thought about before that moment.
After everything you had gone through all these years, you were nowhere close to being the same girl that had first wandered into Avengers Tower in awe.
You were older, wiser. You were stronger, more broken.
For so long, you had been scared of change, of everything and everyone you had loved moving on from the times that you were a happy family, fighting side by side. All while you were completely unaware that that life was almost nonexistent. It had gone on for a little while, then disappeared through your fingers while you so desperately kept trying to cling onto it. Unaware that all you were holding onto was empty air.
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ruukina · 8 months
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FANDOM: final fantasy xvi PAIRING: clive rosfield x reader ( gender neutral, afab ) RATING: explicit / 18+. minors dni. SUMMARY: After an exhausting week of running around Valisthea, you return home with your heart full and missing a certain outlaw. What you find upon your return is different... but not unwelcomed. WARNINGS: slightly rough sex, dirty talking, breeding kink, implied heat cycle. WORD COUNT: 7.7k
A/N: yeah i'm fairly down bad for this man. i normally don't write reader fics but i'm trying to expand my horizons so. here we are. gotta feed myself in this economy right?? expect more ffxvi stuff, whether its reader insert or other shit because the brainworms are very bad.
read on ao3!
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It’s a silent ride back to Hideaway, as it always is on these solo missions of yours.
It’s not a common thing, but every so often you find yourself having to run around all of Valisthea with the job of making payments and collecting orders from the many kind souls that have been helping the cause that even keeps your personal home afloat. In fact, you could even say as Cid’s personal advisor, this was your main job; Otto was busy running the Hideaway and keeping it in check, so the job fell to you when you weren’t tailing after the man you worked under.
You also didn’t mind it, because it meant you had some time to yourself. You had the wind at your back, the smell of sea water to keep you company, and you could be in your thoughts alone.
Usually you didn’t mind it, at the very least. 
It’s not a long task to do or even a hard one, in fact you’d argue that most of your time spent there is arguing with the likes of Martha and Isabelle and even L’ubor to accept the gil that Cid himself has offered to give them, but this month’s mission of yours was different. It seemed like a certain boss of yours had racked up a few requests and the people he graciously helped either wanted to give him a reward or send a letter to ask for more help. And since you were unfortunately playing messenger, it meant that you were basically running around and doing his job… in the sense of gathering the requests and gifts, of course.
So, you were being a little delayed in returning. You made sure to send a Stolas, to let everyone know you weren’t dead - just incredibly busy.
But now you finally found yourself on the ferry back home and you were impatient to get back. Excited to get back to everyone, excited to finally be returning after about a week of having to travel by Chocobo to get to everywhere.
Excited to return back to him.
“Hey, Obolus, are we almost there yet?” You peer over to the ferryman, the wind wilding through your hair.
Obolus didn’t even look back at you, as he ‘tsks’ in response. “We’ll get there when we get there. Asking every five seconds won’t make the boat go any faster.”
You scrunch your nose at him, but he did unfortunately have a point. The trip usually never feels so long, but after being away for what seems like months, you were just anxious to get back and rest your feet. The silence of the ride passes, with only the sound of waves pressing against the exterior of the boat. 
You lean against the side and take the chance to reflect on all that’s happened. All that you’ve experienced. 
All that you’ve done.
You don’t really remember when you became Cid’s advisor. It’s had to have been years at this point, you remember only barely being what one would call an adult. You were a bearer without a brand, hiding your magic behind crystals. It’s what your father had taught you, to protect you from the cruel world you were born in. You were cursed, your mother refused to even acknowledge your existence - even more so after the death of your father. You only lived the way that you did because your mother loved your father more than she loved you, and made your father take care of you.
Your father never gave up on you. An idealist in a world of realists, he really thought you could be the one to change the world. 
He set himself up for failure, you bitterly had thought when news of his death arrived at your doorstep. He died for a cause he believed in, sure, but now he expected you to carry on that torch for him. And maybe there was a part of you that wanted to fight for a better world than the one you were handed, for those like you. You weren’t really sure what your true feelings were at that time.
There was one thing you did know, however; you knew you weren’t safe in your mother’s care, so you ran the day after your father’s passing and never looked back. You’re not even sure if your mother is even still alive or if she even misses you. Did she start anew, start all over with someone else and have a child she could be proud of?
As the years went on, you found that you didn’t even care. You can’t remember her face anymore.
You were crafty, a trickster, because that’s what kept you alive. Somehow, your paths with Cidolfus Telamon crossed. Not just once or twice, but five times. Four times, you rejected his appraisal and invitation to join him.
On the fifth path crossed, and the day he saved you from death, you finally joined him. You didn’t really expect to stay long in Hideaway, only thinking you would spend a few weeks or even a month before you jumped ship. You never stayed in one place for long, because it was always too dangerous for you to attach yourself to people. But everyone was so kind, so nice to you, and welcomed you with open arms. 
Especially Cidolfus.
You clung to him a lot, maybe because despite only meeting him five times he was the only person you really knew, and somehow you managed to become his advisor with your skills and your ability to pull him back to the ground. Otto was against it at first, not because he didn’t like you, but you were barely an adult. Yet, Cid had smiled and patted you on the shoulder, telling Otto that there was more to you than meets the eye.
It’s much more than what your mother gave you. Worthless, unneeded, dirty, sinful - that’s all that she had called you. Your own father would try and raise your spirits, but her words were sharp as a knife and they cut wounds in your wrists. Weeks turned into months, months turned into years, and you stayed. You stayed with the people who would become your family.
One day, Cid left with Goetz and the wolf he ( or rather, charon ) cared for, because of rumors of Shiva’s Dominant finally rising in a place where he can finally catch her, to give her the freedom she needed. He came back with Goetz carrying a girl on his back, and a branded man with the wolf practically attached to his hip.
Clive Rosfield.
You didn’t realize it at the time, but the man before you would change your life completely.
Cid introduced you to him, asking you to watch over him and help him adjust to the Hideaway. It’s almost funny to think about, because despite Clive’s grumblings about ‘not staying long’ ( words that echoed in your head as familiar, because you had said the same thing ), when you finally got track of him again, he was out helping the people of Hideaway. 
You made a joke about that and he quickly looked away, some colour on his cheeks and the tips of his ears. It was a cute sight, unsightly for a rugged man like him. Despite his appearances, he was kind and soft, albeit a bit cynical from the hardships he faced in his life. Then you ended up helping him help people, because there wasn’t much to do at that time and you needed to stretch your legs, and that’s how Cid decided on his great idea to make Clive your personal assistant.
Clive then realized when Cid told him you ran him ragged, he meant it, because once Cid assigned Clive to you, it didn’t take you long to get him working because as long as someone could move, they could work. But of course, you joined Clive on his journey to help him out. Some days you had to stay at Hideaway but for the most part, you were at his side alongside Cid. 
You and Clive bonded together. Quick whips with one another, long nights together trying to figure out your next course of action with the Mothercrystals and how to save Valisthea, and slowly he became someone you… well, liked, essentially. You don’t exactly make friends with people, because you’ve never really had the chance to do so, but somehow Clive stabbed his way into your life and heart. 
He became softer with you, and you did too. You found it was easy to smile with him, to laugh with him, to love him. It scared you, because Clive was a Dominant - the second, mysterious Eikon of Fire, and yet something so much more than that. It was basically a target on your back, even more so than the relationship you had with Cid.
But you found that you couldn’t stop loving him, that you would endure the burning world for him. Maybe that scared you more.
He held you when you sobbed and broke down over Cid - the first time your mask of being strong ever cracked. You hated it, you hated being weak, because Cid didn’t need weak people helping him. Cid needed someone who could put themselves back together, but this time you couldn’t. The pieces of you were scattered all over the floor like glass and every time you picked one up, you cut your hand and let the blood drip from your wound.
Yet, Clive held you. He held you close, he didn’t judge you, because he was crying alongside you. Cid meant so much to everyone, including him. You sat in his arms, and he didn’t leave until he knew he could leave you alone without worrying over you. His gentleness contrasted his roughened up look, he looked at you so softly and filled with fondness towards you. He was not afraid to help pick up the pieces, even if it meant cutting his hands in the process. 
He put you back together, and he didn’t complain about it. Not even once.
Your relationship with him bloomed. Your friendship with him became something new, something else. It was a dangerous love, because of who Clive Rosfield is - what he is. Yet, you never swayed. You never faltered.
No matter what, he’s Clive to you.
But in public, he is Cid and you are Cid’s advisor - like you always were. You two were professional on the outside, only sneaking away to shed those titles when you had enough time to. You didn’t get those chances a lot, but when you did he made sure to treat you like you were a deity. You’ve had lovers in the past, but they never made you feel like Clive made you feel. He made you feel loved, appreciated, cared for. You took care of him, but he always took care of you in return. He never simply just took, he always gave back.
No wonder you were anxious to get back to him; you’ve missed him dearly.
“We’re approaching the Hideaway!”
The ferryman’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. You open your eyes, quickly looking towards the horizons. Even in the blackest of nights, with the moon being your only light, you could see the shape of the broken down airship that you and everyone else called home. You could feel the smile creeping on your face.
“I’m home,” you whisper.
To who exactly? Not yourself, but to the man who was waiting for you.
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You thank Obolus for the ride home as you step off of the boat, quickly rushing up the stairs. Most people had turned in for the night so there were only a few souls still haunting the Hideaway, and they offered their greetings to you and a cheery ‘welcome back, advisor!’, to which you returned with a smile.
You feel a little silly rushing through the halls, like an eager child, but you were happy to be home. 
You were happy about seeing him again.
You skid to a stop when you reached your destination. The Tub and Crown was a bit of a ghost town around this time, but you knew there were still a few people aside from Maeve haunting the area.
And you weren’t wrong. There sat Gav and Jill, with Torgal laying at Jill’s side. The hound lifts his head up at the sound of your footsteps, and once he lays his eyes on you he quickly stands up and rushes over towards you with a happy sounding bark. Since becoming Clive’s partner, Torgal never really left your side either. If he wasn’t with his owner or Jill, he was shuffling at your hip and following you around.
“Torgal!” You greet happily, kneeling on the ground to pet him and spoil him with some treats you carried on hand once you got close enough to where the two sat.
The two break from their conversation to see what Torgal was barking at, both of them greeting you with a smile on their faces.
“Well, if it ain’t our favorite advisor!” Gav slams his drink down. He looks you over, peering at the basket of gifts and requests at your side - all for a certain someone. “Talk about bein’ fashionably late. You weren’t kiddin’ when you said almost everyone in Valisthea was keepin’ you away.”
Jill nods her head in agreement, cupping her own chin to look over the heavy basket. “It sounds like you’ve had quite the adventure yourself.”
“Oh, it was the same ol’ stuff I deal with everyday. Just this time everyone in Valisthea caught wind that Cid’s advisor was in town and decided to make it their problem.” You rub Torgal’s belly, to which the hound accepts with happy pants. 
Speaking of the aforementioned man… You look to the side of Gav. No handsome brooding man there. 
You look to the side of Jill. No handsome brooding man there, either.
“Where is Clive?” You stop petting Torgal for a moment. “I figured he would be hanging out with you.”
Gav rolls his eyes a little, both good naturedly but also in some slight annoyance. “Went right to his chambers to work on things when we got back. He’s been in a bloody mood all week.” The scout holds up a finger. “Scowlin’ more than usual, more antsy than usual, tappin’ his foot while he waits at the door.” Every reason is met with a finger going up. “Not like everyone is afraid of him here, but it felt like we had to walk on eggshells around him. Even Charon was tryin’ not to rib him so hard.”
You blink a little, a brow raised. “Has the missions been going poorly or something?”
“Fuck no,” Gav shakes his head in response. “Everything’s been going smoothly. He’s just been actin’ like a shite.”
“He hasn’t been that bad,” counters Jill. Though, there’s a slight pause of hesitation from her. “But Gav isn’t wrong, he has been in a bit of a mood. More than likely, he was just worried about you.”
Worried about you? It’s not like you can’t handle yourself, and you’ve definitely been on missions longer than a week without him. You can’t help but scrunch your nose in thought - as always, when you’re thinking hard. Something was up with him, clearly.
Jill reads you like a book, with a smile on her face. “He’s still up, last time I checked. He’s burying his nose in reports as to distract himself. I’m sure he’ll appreciate the visit from you.” She stands up from her seat, as Torgal also rolls over and trots back to her side. “I’ve got some work to do with Tarja, but it was nice seeing you tonight.”
You nod your head, standing up and dusting yourself off. “Tarja, huh? Try not to stay up too late with her, alright?” You laugh a little when Shiva’s dominant huffs softly at your teasing, giving you just a gentle nudge in return. The two of you have gotten quite close over the years, and she was supportive of you and Clive. You felt like you could sigh in relief at that, that you didn’t have to worry about Clive’s childhood friend coming after you.
Gav finishes his drink, standing up as well. “I’m turnin’ in for the night.” He pats your shoulder with a grin on his face. “Make sure you give our leader a nice, warm welcome!”
He only grins harder seeing your cheeks turn red like a tomato at the implication of his words, and Jill’s soft laughter only makes you turn ever redder. Ah, there was your punishment for teasing Jill. The three of them make their way out of the alehouse, your eyes following them as you think about your conversation.
He’s in a mood.
What could he be in a mood about? You’ll have to do some digging, which isn’t hard - if there’s one thing Clive is with you that not even a sour mood could change, it’s that he was honest with you. It’s one of his best traits, really, that he’s open with his feelings and doesn’t usually shy away from speaking his mind about certain things. It’s not always easy, because there are some things he keeps to his chest, but for the most part communication is always important between you two. You pick up the basket of gifts and quickly make it to the end of the hall, where Clive’s chambers were.
And well, they were technically your chambers too, you think with the heat growing at your cheeks once more.
Shifting the basket a little, you use your free hand to knock on his chamber doors - once, twice and thrice.
“The door’s unlocked.” Clive’s low voice fills your ears. He already has you sighing and letting out a quivering breath. Founder, you’ve missed him.
You open the door with a smile on your face. You take in the sights before you - his room is as you left it, with the man himself seated at the desk. He seems to be burying himself in his usual reports and paperwork, just as Jill said. He didn’t even lift his head upon you entering.
“Guess who.” You smile, as you close the door behind you.
The sound of your voice has Clive immediately lift his head from his work. Cerulean eyes widened, the quill he was using drops from between his fingers and clattering on the desk.
“You’re back.” He sounds almost breathless. His chest raises a little as he breathes in and out, those cerulean eyes of him looking a lot more puppy-dog than usual.
This was different, indeed.
You walk towards him, placing the basket on the edge of the desk not covered in scattered papers. “Just got back. Gifts for you by the way, I was hunted down by weary souls who wanted to give their thanks to the so-called Cid the Outlaw.” You peer at him with a gentle, loving smile on your face.
He laughs a little in response, a rare smile forming on his own features. “No wonder you’re late. Sorry about that. I’ll be sure to pen my thanks to them soon.”
You shake your head at him. “Oh, don’t even start with the apologies. It’s my job to aid you, it’s kind of in the title.” A pause, shifting your feet a little as you hold your hands behind your back, shyly. “And… you know I’ll do anything for you, Clive.”
The words you whisper made him smile a little more. “You have perfect timing. I’m actually finishing up and I could use your advice.” He nudges his chair back a little, gently patting his thigh. 
For a moment, you stare with a tilted head, until you realize the implications. Your cheeks turn red.
Oh, he’s inviting you to sit there.
Oh, this was different, indeed.
But you don’t hesitate or falter at all. You take a seat on his thigh, leaning against him. One of his strong arms wraps themselves around your waist, pulling your body flushed against his. The position is a little embarrassing, you have to admit to yourself, but it feels warm, comforting - loving. It doesn’t take long for you to fall back into place, flipping through the letters and offering your advice and help to him.
It also doesn’t take long for Clive to stop paying attention. He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent. His hot breath tickles your skin, a shiver running down your spine, as his fingers draw circles in your hip. His lips ghosts around your skin, pressing the gentlest of kisses to your neck as though he was whispering forbidden words in your skin. The quill from his fingers once again falls onto the desk, the reports forgotten about as his attention shifts to you. It’s hard to focus when he’s like this, so you decide to also forget about the many papers that littered his desktop.
“Jill and Gav told me you were in a mood.” You finally shift the conversation to what was really on your mind.
Clive only offers a grunt at first. “I’m not really in a mood.”
“Are you? You’re acting a little differently tonight.” Your fingers run through his hair, out of his eyes. “What’s on your mind, Clive? You know you can tell me.”
For a moment, he hesitates, but he knows he doesn’t like keeping secrets from you. You know he doesn’t like keeping secrets from you. He pulls you close to him, finally lifting his head to look you in the eye.
“I was fine when you left, but after a day, it felt like there was a pit in my stomach.” Clive runs his fingers up and down your hip. “Hunger, I suppose, is the best way to describe it.”
“Hunger?”
“I felt like I couldn’t focus with you gone. It was worse when I was here alone. Your scent was so much stronger than it usually was…” Clive recounts, averting his gaze for a moment from slight embarrassment, but he quickly focuses back on you. “The more days you were away, the more the hunger grew.”
“And the grouchier you got?” You tease him, though your tease was cut short and replaced with a slight yelp when he pinches your thigh with a huff.
“I wasn’t grouchy.” He counters, but his tone of voice sounds like he’s not exactly fighting the accusation.
You think about what he’s said, though. A hunger he felt for you. It started happening when you first left. He found that your scent was stronger than normal, even when you weren’t there. The symptoms sounded fairly familiar to you, and you hummed a little in thought as you ran your fingers through his hair. He groaned in delight at that, leaning into your touch and burying his face in the crook of your neck once more.
“Maybe you’re going through a rut?”
Clive lifts his head up. “A rut? I’m not a dog, love.”
“I mean, you travel with a dog, you constantly have a permanent puppy-dog eyes look on you and you turn into a dog-lizard thing. You’re kind of dog-adjacent.” You shrug cheekily, with an equally cheeky smile on your face. “But I’m serious about the last thing. We don’t know a whole lot about Ifrit. Maybe it’s going through some kind of rut or something and it’s affecting you. It is springtime, you know. Maybe nature is just setting course for Ifrit, too.”
It’s a pretty plausible theory. Clive stops to think about it for a brief moment, his breath tickling your neck once more as you sigh. Still, he says nothing at first and pauses his movements, until he looks right back up at you, his gaze meeting yours.
“You do realize the implications of your theory, right?” His pupils are blown out, more than usual. His strong, calloused hands grip your hips, shifting you a little so your lower half is flushed right against his.
Oh, there’s something pressing against you. Your body warms up, a heat and ache pooling right in your core. 
You didn’t realize how much you miss his body pressing against yours in such a sinful manner, until he rolls his hips against yours in want and need.
“I meant what I said,” you begin to say, your hands gripping to his shoulders as you slowly grind against the bulge in his pants, meeting his hips’ movements. You couldn’t help but grin a little when he moaned lowly, a sound just for you. “You know I’ll do anything for you, Clive.”
That’s all you’re able to get out at that point, because once you give him permission to do what he needs to do, Clive’s lips press against yours. It was only a sweet, soft kiss for a for seconds at best, because it quickly turned into something fierce, hungry. His tongue prods against your lips, wanting access into your warm mouth, and you gladly part your lips for him, because you need him as much as he needs you. Your tongue presses and swirls against his - it’s a small battle for dominance you never win, but you know he likes a small challenge. His own tongue presses and pins yours, until you ease away to let him completely take the reins.
The kiss is hot, wet, truly sinful. His hands grope everywhere he could, mostly squeezing at your thighs and hips with his fingers digging into your soft, plump flesh until they found their way to your rear. Squeezing and grabbing, groping in such a way that would make you flustered had you not been needy with your own arousal, he lifts you up as though you’re made of nothing but feathers, and truly you’re a little limp in his grasp. Clive’s strength always managed to make you feel dizzy, in a good way, and that doesn’t change here. He pushes his chair back, leaving the desk and the many reports he still has to do in the dust and makes his way towards his bed - your shared bed.
He only breaks the kiss to place you down on the mattress, gentle pants leaving both of your lips as a string of saliva connects the two of you. It breaks as he pulls away a little more, only to dive back in and press fluttering, wet kisses to your neck. Just like the kiss from before, it turns into something a little more hot and brutal; his lips suck at your skin to give it a bruising mark, teeth sinking into your flesh to draw just a little bit of blood from you. You groan hotly, your fingers gripping at his dark locks as your hips jolt upwards. Clive licks and kisses at the bruise and bite mark he left, panting gently against your flesh.
“You still taste so, so good.” Clive whispers into your skin, as his hands tug right at your shirt. He tries his best not to rip it, but unbuttoning your shirt during these kinds of acts was never exactly a cleanful tact, because you can already see a few buttons pop off just from him ripping it open. You chuckle a little; some things really don’t change.
Your chest is bared to him, and Clive wastes no time in pressing gentle kisses on naked skin. Trailing down, he kisses, licks and sucks on any skin he could latch himself onto and sinks teeth into your sink that leaves behind a delicious sting of pain, until finally reaching your left breast. Your breath hitches a little as his tongue swirls around the nub of your nipple, the hitched breath morphing into a needy moan once his lips latch around it to give it a gentle suck. His fingers tease and play with the unattended one, his attacks on you relentless and cruel - cruel in the sense he never slowed down.
“Clive.” you whine with a high-pitched voice, trying your best to roll your hips against his. But he doesn’t let you, pinning you down with just his pelvis. He lifts his head up, a smirk on his face.
“Just lay there and let me make you feel good,” whispers Clive. The way his low voice sounded so commanding, you can’t help but obey him. He was always like this, though; he was always chasing for your pleasure and never his own. He loved you, he wanted to make you feel good. It was never really fair! But at the same time, it truly was nice. He was so different from lovers you had in the past, who only cared about their own needs.
He attends to your other breast, giving it the same treatment - a lick here, a suck there, leaving a trail of bruises and bite marks in his wake. Once he’s satisfied, his lips start to trail downwards. He worships you like this, with his lips and his tongue, making sure there’s a patch of skin with his mark on it. His hands make work of your bottoms, pulling off the offending fabric until you were just left in your undergarments. You expect to feel his fingers on your skin so he can pull them down, but instead when you look down, you see Clive is using his teeth to pull them down.
Oh, this is different. Normally he takes his time with you; press himself against you, kiss you all over. Even as someone who prefers to please his partners more than please himself, it seems like tonight he’s impatient.
“Seems like someone’s been wanting this,” chuckles Clive as he spreads your lower lips a little to inspect you. “You’re already so soaked. All I did was tease you a little. Founder, you’re as depraved as I am.” His hot breath hits your wetness as he speaks, never once pressing his lips against you. You jolt a little at the feeling, a soft huff escaping your lips.
“You started this mess,” You tell him, your fingers already gripping in his hair. “You finish it.”
Another chuckle leaves his lips. Clive is impatient, though, and he wastes no time in pressing his lips right against your dripping entrance. His tongue is relentless here just as it was on your skin; it wastes no time in slipping inside of you, as he starts to drink your essence and fuck you with his tongue alone. It’s almost unbearable to you, in a good way - he drinks like a man starved.
Clive is so good to you, but he knows how to be so cruel, because he knows you enjoy it. He knows how easily you melt on his tongue, and he enjoys every single moment of it.
His fingers slip in as well, two of them pumping in and out as he moves upwards a little, finding your clit. The tip of his tongue flicks at it and you feel the smirk against your entrance as soon as you squeak and moan from his actions. He licks, sucks, his movements becoming faster with each second that passes. You’re trying so hard to swallow back your moans, but the moment his lips wrap around your clit and give it a hard suck, you can’t control your volume anymore. It echoes off of the walls, embarrassingly so, but your mind is so fogged that you don’t seem to care like you usually would.
The knot in your lower stomach painfully tightens, you can feel yourself reaching your peak as Clive continues to tease your clit and thrust his fingers in and out of you. Just as you’re about to find your release, though, he abruptly stops. He pulls himself off of you, his fingers are coated with your essence.
“Clive–” You begin to whine, almost in pain. You stop yourself short when you watch him lick his fingers clean - slowly, like he’s putting on a show for you. Once they’re clean, he looks at you as though he’s a predator who has caught prey in his trap. The slight darkness of the room makes his cerulean eyes have a glow to them. The knot in your stomach returns.
He intends to devour you, his way. He’s going to drag this out, until you’re begging and crying for release.
Clive crawls back onto the bed, his hands moving to undo all of the leathers and fabric of his clothing, until he’s as bare as you are. His cloak and shirt go first, dropping onto the ground until his chest is revealed to you. Greagor, you could probably write several missives about Clive’s chest and muscles, but despite what your lover may say, you’re not that depraved. You keep all of those thoughts to yourself, like a good advisor should. Your eyes drift down with his hands, watching as they fumble a little with his belt, stifling a laugh from how needy and excited he is.
You stop laughing once he finally does undo his belt and pull his pants down, revealing his hard cock to you. You’ve seen it before, it’s been inside of you multiple times now, but you still hitch your breath when you see it. The gods certainly graced Clive with something to brag about, for certain. 
If you ever do meet Ultima maybe you should thank him for giving his vessel something that would make you cross your eyes and forget your own name, but something tells you a narcissistic god obsessed with the purity of his vessel may not appreciate the sonnets a mere mortal would write about said vessel’s cock.
Pre-cum dribbles at the tip, his fingers coated in a mix of his saliva and your juices as he uses it to his advantage to stroke himself a little, to really give you a show now. You hear yourself panting, your chest heaving up and down as you watch the sinful sight before you.
“Enjoying yourself?” Clive smirks, smugness in his voice.
You huff a little in response. “I’ll only enjoy myself when you actually fuck me instead of showing off, Rosfield.”
He laughs a little, leaning down to kiss your forehead sweetly. “As my faithful advisor commands.”
You have no time to respond, as he quickly flips you so you’re on your stomach, face slightly pressed against the pillow beneath you. He presses his front against your back, the tip of his cock pressing against your wet folds teasingly. Your needy whine and rear thrusting back to try and get him inside of you earns a laugh from him, but thankfully he’s not intensely cruel tonight. He presses inside of you, though it’s not as slow as he normally is. Normally he takes his time with you, but in just seconds he’s got his entire length inside of you. You feel the way his body shudders against your back, your soaked walls clenching around him. A sigh passes your lips, morphing into a moan. 
You’ve missed this. You’ve missed him.
His thrusts are slow at first, but it doesn’t take him long for him to pick up his speed. His hips meet your backside, a wonderful symphony of skin slapping against each other fills the room, loud enough to make your ears burn with embarrassment. You bury your face in the pillow to muffle your moans. A hand wraps itself around the back of your neck, though, to pull you up towards its owner. Clive’s heavy breath is in your ear now, worsening your arousal.
“Don’t hide your voice from me,” pants Clive, sharp teeth nibbling at your earlobe. “I want to hear you.”
And you find that you can’t deny him. Your moans are loud, needy, your knuckles turning white from how roughly you’re gripping the sheets to the point where they might tear. His other hand snakes down your stomach, reaching your lower half, and his fingers make work on your clit. It’s a slow rub, his thrusts contrasting the gentleness of his fingers. You can feel yourself reaching your peak, you can feel the knot in your stomach tightening and tightening until–
Until he pulls right out of you.
You whine, loudly, at the loss. Your walls clench at nothing, and you try to thrust yourself back towards him, but Clive doesn’t let you do that. Instead, he flips you both again - him on his back and you sitting on his lap. He looks up at you with a smile, his hand running up and down your stomach once more.
“I know exactly what you like.” The outlaw says, pulling you forward so his cock rests right against your stomach. You feel how hot it is, how hard it is, and how it throbs and pulsates against your skin. “Show me how much you want to cum.”
Oh, he’s definitely dragging this out as long as he can. You can’t exactly blame him, you don’t want this to end either. 
But you also really need to reach your peak, otherwise you may burn the whole Hideaway down.
Your wobbly legs manage to hold yourself up, slowly moving down on him. Your whole body shudders as his cock fills you up again, the tip pressing against the deepest parts of your inside. You move up and down on his length, moans and pants spilling from your lips as you decide to not hide your voice any longer - because he wants to hear you. And you can’t deny him, because you don’t want to deny him.
“Founder, your voice alone drives me mad.” Clive growls, his hand squeezing your thigh as he thrusts upwards to meet your own movements. “Tried to focus on my work, tried to put you out of my head for days, but I just couldn’t. I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I needed you blissed out on my cock–”
He’s rambling, his voice low and rough, and you love every second of it. Clive’s not much of a talker, but when he is, he makes you feel so depraved for him. Your legs were starting to shake and feel weak already, but you push yourself - you push yourself because you want this. Because you need this from him, just as much as he needed this from you.
“Clive,” you chant his name like a prayer, over and over again. You must sound delirious.
But Clive clearly doesn’t seem to mind, the way his back arches a little just from the sound of your sweet voice. It’s a powerful feeling, you realize, having such a powerful man like him weak at you - a mere mortal, a bearer but not a Dominant. Yet, it’s a good reminder that beneath everything, Clive is a mortal man as well.
“Can you feel me, sweetheart?” He places his hand on your lower stomach, feeling the way it bulges a little from the sheer size of him. You look down, shuddering at the sight as he continues to thrust upwards, your eyes following how the bulge disappears then reappears. “You take me so fucking well. It’s like you were made for me, the way you shake your hips like a woman at the Veil.”
You can’t respond, any time you try to all that fumbles from your lips are moans and whines of pure pleasure.
“I can get so deep into you like this,” groans Clive, his other hand grasping at your hip. “All the way into you. Fuck, I could breed you right here. I could make you swell with my child.”
Oh, that’s different.
And it’s clearly a good different, the way your body responds. Your walls clench around him, as if your body had a mind of its own, as if your body was begging for the man to breed you. He notices too, and he licks his lips and smirks once he realizes you may enjoy the idea as he did.
“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” Another thrust upwards. His thrusts are getting sloppier and rougher, but Greagor does it feel so good. “I wouldn’t be able to control myself, seeing you like that. I’d fuck you every single day–”
You moan, so lecherously. “Clive, fuck, I’m going to cum!”
Both hands grab at your hips, fingers digging and sinking into your skin so hard you know there’s going to be some bruising there in the morning. But you don’t care. All you care about is the man underneath you, and chasing after your own release. Clive makes you move faster onto him, a growl rumbling from his throat.
“Go on, let yourself go.”
You were already so overstimulated from the foreplay from before, and the way his cock brushes against your sweet spots and bashes against the entrance to your womb, you can’t help it. Your walls tighten around him, and you let yourself go.
Another growl rumbles from his throat, this time he pulls you right down onto him, hard. It doesn’t take him long to follow you into a blissful climax, his hot seed pouring into you and flooding your insides. It’s a lot, more than usual, to the point where it floods out from your entrance and onto him.
You collapse onto him, and he instantly takes you in his arms. Slowly, he flips your positions again, just so he can press himself deeper into you. Thank the Founder, because your legs were about to give out.
A moment passes, until he finally pulls himself out from you. His blown out pupils watch as his seed overflows from you, dripping onto the sheets beneath you. He shudders at the sight, and you can’t help but shudder as well.
You’re fading in and out of existence, but when you mostly come to, Clive has wiped you and him down, cleaning you up and gently pressing kisses against any marks he’s left on you. The sheets will unfortunately have to wait until tomorrow. Frankly, you could give less of a shit about that.
The outlaw slumps himself against you, pulling you into his arms. You both lay there in a comfortable silence, as he buries his face in the crook of your neck.
“Thank you.” His voice trembles, a little embarrassed - that’s the Clive you know. “I’ll, uh, make sure Tarja prepares a herbal tea for you tomorrow, so that you don’t…” He trails off, hiding his face against your neck even more now.
You chuckle, feeling the hotness of his cheeks against your skin. “Feeling better?”
“Yes,” answers the male as he lifts his head up with a smile. “Much better. You always seem to know how to cure my worries and needs.”
“What can I say? I know my boss pretty well.”
He laughs, and your heart feels so warm, so in love with the man before you. Clive leans in, pressing his lips against yours to share a sweet, innocent kiss that contrasts the sinful act you both just partook in. And you kiss him back, wrapping your arms around him. You only stop when you feel something hard rub against your thigh, pulling back to see he was still pretty aroused. He’s a little sheepish at that, but he looks at you in want, in need - and love, as always.
“I don’t think one time is going to be enough for you, big guy.”
A sheepish laugh falls from his lips. “I don’t think so either. I might need a few more rounds. That is, if my faithful advisor is up to it.” 
He’s challenging you, clearly. The smirk on his face tells you all you need to know. You smirk back, bucking your hips against his to accept.
“Only if you do most of the work.” You tell him, a leg going in to wrap itself around his waist. “You made me weak in my knees, Lord Rosfield. A gentleman should take some responsibility for his actions.”
His low chuckle reaches your ears, as he leans in to press his forehead against yours. It’s a tender action, one that definitely makes you feel weak in the knees - if you hadn’t already. It doesn’t take him long to reenter you, and you can’t hide the shudder of your slightly overstimulated body. 
But you want everything he has to offer, the good and the bad of Clive Rosfield, and he’ll give it to you. 
Because he wants everything you have to offer, the good and the bad of his faithful advisor, in return.
“As you wish, my love.”
He claims your lips. The night goes on.
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“Somethin’ seems to be on your mind.”
Jill looks towards the source of the voice. Gav stands next to her, arms crossed as he meets her gaze with a raised brow. The Dominant says nothing to him, only slowly returning her gaze to where she once was looking. Gav’s line of sight follows hers, landing right on the scene that was unfolding before them.
“Clive, I’m trying to do work!”
Hideaway’s poor advisor was currently trying to shake an overgrown Cid the Outlaw off of them, who has currently draped himself over you. It had been a single day since you had returned from your trip and needless to say, Clive was acting as though you had been gone for years. Arms wrapped around your waist, pulling your body flush against yours.
“Nothing is stopping you from doing your work,” is all Clive remarks with, burying his face in the crook of your neck.
“Except for a fucking overgrown dog!”
Gav whistles at the sight before him. “Someone seems to be in a good mood.”
“Indeed,” nods Jill, her gaze never leaving the both of you. Right now you were trying to walk away, which resulted in you basically having to drag the second Eikon of fire around because he refused to let himself off of you. “But, I can’t help but wonder if this is worse than the mood he was in before.”
The scout shrugs his shoulders. “Our advisor has dealt with worse from him. And we don’t have to deal with him slobberin’ all over us, so I’d say a good mood is better than nothin’.”
The woman says nothing. She knows it’s going to be a few days before Clive will return to his normal self, if your theory about why he’s been moody all week rings true. Such things don’t end with a simple, pleasurable night. You’ll be fine, she knows that, so she’s not too worried that you won’t be able to handle Clive Rosfield.
It’s in your job description, after all.
( she’ll still pray to metia for you, at the very least, and hope you come out unscathed. )
341 notes · View notes
sehodreams · 4 months
Text
Hey guys, sorry for not having posted lately, suddenly been busy, I've had this one in my drafts for a long time, it's a bit different from the usual stuff but i still hope you like it.
S: You never expected to be friends with the star of the basketball team, and even less to become whatever you were at that moment, so when the little fantasy you were living on was destroyed by your little star, you couldn't just watch without doing nothing, but first, a taste wouldn't hurt anyone, right?
TW and tags: MDNI, smut, a bit dubcon since Sungchan is kinda drunk (he started), p in v, no condom, oral sex (f and m receiving), squirting, fingering, abs riding, bruises, switch!dumb!popular!Sungchan (mostly sub) x rich!smart!plussize!reader
WC: +5.6k
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Little star
You expected your last year to be just like the others, successful and boring, but you had never imagined you'd talk with him, even less become so close.
You had known him for almost two yeare already, and you had bonded after a couple of casual meetings this year, embarrassing situations that you'd have never liked anyone else to see, but with him it was okay, only he could.
Your parents were obsessed with your grades, and his with his performance on basketball, both of you knew what was like to be pressured to be the best, and before you knew it, you started to depend on each other to get all the things you wanted to let out without being judged.
A call before bed everyday, messages every hour, and that little peck on the lips after you did his homework.
Yeah, you did his homework, you heard how bad he was doing in school and how he'd get kicked out of the club if he didn't do better, so you offered your help without hesitation, and now, every time you gave him his homework perfectly done, he'd thank you with a soft kiss, a peck on the lips that would usually mean nothing for others, but for you it was special, innocent, new, like a taste of youth you never had before.
Everything was perfect, you didn't mind that your friendship or whatever you had with him was a secret, you understood none of you could risk to be seen with each other, even more you, since you had an image to protect and all the teachers trusted you to be a good kid, so if your parents ever heard about you having a male friend, they would kill you, as simply as that.
Your parents had you when they were in highschool, and even if they were fairly successful now thanks to your mother and her family, they didn't want you to follow their steps, they wanted you to be the best, even if that meant you had no friends and no childhood at all.
That used to feel suffocating, making you wish you could run away, but since you both became closer, life became easier, more tasteful, and everything was just better, almost perfect, amazing, an utterly flawless.
Well, until he ruined it.
How could he betray you like that? You heard it from others, how he was going out with that pretty trainer, small, skinny, with perfect skin and hair, disgustingly gorgeous. You tried to not believe it at first, thinking that it was just another rumor, it was common for him to be involved in such things because he was the school star, not only your beautiful, tall, and kind star, but everyone's, so there were many times people spread rumors about him to get entertained. But, to your disgrace, it was true, you ended seeing it with your own eyes, just there believing it, and suddenly the perfect world you were living on was destroyed.
How could he play with you like that? He got everything he needed from you, your intelligence, your time, your kisses, and then tossed you aside, all for nothing.
So, it was only fair that you took something from him too, right?
Of course, like in everything in your life, you'd make a plan. After thinking what could you do to hurt him like he did to you, you decided only one thing would be enough, eye for an eye, betrayal for a betrayal.
First, you had to make her break up with him, it was only natural. She did it without hesitation, you only needed a couple pictures and then she was on her knees begging. You didn't have anything against her, so you let her go.
However, if she was collateral damage, that was none of your business.
Then, you'd get a taste of him before you broke him, you admitted he was cute, so a taste wouldn't hurt anyone, right? You had to attract him, make him addicted to you, so you used your best tool, your knowledge, and used his dependency on you to get him to be alone together.
"Sorry, been busy with exams, do you mind helping with your project?" You texted him after you saw his three missed calls, desperated to know what you were doing instead of his work.
"What? The deadline is in two days and you just tell me now?" He answered. What a piece of shit, you thought. Had he always been like this?
"Sorry, I had too much on my plate, my parents won't be here tomorrow, we can finish it in my house" you said, trying your best to not tell him to fuck off.
"Okay" He accepted because he had no option, he had to get a good grade or his position in the team would be in danger, so the next day he was in front of your door, with his pretty face showing a frown.
You opened the door and his eyes instantly started to inspect the place, you had never said how well your parents did, so he felt a bit ashamed to appear there with his cheap shoes and his old uniform.
You never cared about him being in a situation different than yous, he was still your little star, high and untouchable, until he decided to break the dream apart and you started to notice how pathetic he truly was.
Still cute enough though.
It seemed you were just like your mother, both smart women falling for pathetic man.
You made him follow you to the kitchen, there you had a table big enough to work together without problem. He sat on one side and you gave him a sheet of the things you needed from him. After a couple hours you finished the project and you realized two things: you really did a lot for him doing his homework, and he was an idiot that wouldn't get far unless he kept playing basketball.
"Would you like to eat something before you go home?" You offered with a sweet smile. He nodded eagerly, the boy was almost always hungry and you knew that, so you had asked the lady that came every morning to make his favorite dish, you just had to heat it on the pan and take all the credit.
"Sorry, I usually just cook for me so I don't know if it'll be of your liking" you said and brought him his plate, he stopped looking at his phone and only nodded, not even smiling back. "I'll go change, you can start without me" He didn't care, he continued watching his phone and you ran to your room to change your clothes for something more appealing.
You knew you weren't like his ex, you were rather bigger, with a soft tummy and voluptuous attributes, but you couldn't doubt your charm, even if the boys in your classroom said stupid shit about you sometimes, you knew how they looked at you, how they looked at your chest, or how when you walked past them and bended to pick something their eyes wouldn't leave you alone.
You decided to wear a simple tank top and flowy pants, you didn't want him to notice your advances so early to then run away before you got anything from him.
You walked down to the kitchen and sat in front of the cabinet your dad had there, full of liquors not even you had tried. He could easily watch them all, and when you caught him looking at your exposed cleavage, he looked behind you, ''your dad must like to drink'' he said, trying to distract you.
''Yeah you could say so'' you answered trying to brush it off, he's a fucking alcoholic, ''I haven't tried them, but most of them are open, would you like to have a glass?" you offered with a smile. He had never seen the bottles that appeared there, he almost never drank because it was too expensive for him and his allowance, and his dad only had cheap beer every now and then, so he had no knowledge on it, like most things, but he knew one thing, that just from the look of it, it'd be worth trying, where else would he taste a blue label or any of those bottles? He was already thinking how could he show it of to his friends later, so he accepted with a nonchalant look, as if he didn't care, and he looked lame, but you decided to pretend his cool act didn't give you an irk and poured him a glass.
One glass quickly became two, and two, three.
Before you noticed he was already red to the ears and was telling you everything that had happened days ago, how the coach was behind him all the time, telling him to get better grades or no club would scout him if he didn't graduate, and how his parents were giving him a hard time telling him to train even more to get offers or at least a scholarship.
Clearly hiding the fact that he had a girlfriend, because even drunk, he was still a son of a bitch.
You, with a hand on your chin, complety bored of his rambling, only nodded to everything that came out of his mouth and pour him more drinks.
"They don't know how hard you work Sungchan, at least not like me" you put your hand over his and gave him the most sympathetic look you could do. He, exhausted, brushed his hair with his free hand and did a strangled sound, as if he was about to cry.
"I'm tired of everyone, I'm tired of school, I'm tired of basketball, i can't even have a normal life without everyone calling me out for it" he almost teared up. His face was flushed, his lips were quivering and his eyes looked directly to yours. You were sitting besides him so you caressed his cheek, smoothly. Your faces were almost touching each other's and he closed his eyes, breathing in the aroma of your perfume and the smell of the liquor lingering around.
He talked again, letting everything out, "These days my parents have been fighting even more than normal too, I can't even take a break in my own home''
You got closer to him, looking preoccupied, "what are they fighting for?" You asked curious.
"Stupid things, you know, how will I pay college tuition if I don't get scouted, how expensive equipment is, and how they're still paying the loan they got for the private instructor" he said, not looking to your eyes. He knew you wouldn't relate to his problems, the shoes that were in your entrance were already more expensive than his whole outfit, and after that he couldn't help but notice little by little the differences between you both, your house, your phone, even the little earings you wore.
"Ow Sungchan, you can take it easy when you're with me, I'll take care of everything" You smiled next to him, you felt the air change, desire floatting, and you wanted a kiss, anything. Your pussy started to get wet even without being touched, a pain settling in your lower abdomen, as if your body knew what was about to happen,but you didn't want to be the one starting it, he had to, for the little pride you had left. His eyes were closed, trying to think the situation you both were in, feeling hot too, but not finding enough reason to start moving to you, "and if you need anything, I can just buy it for you, my little star" you finished, and that was everything you had to say.
He doesn't know when, but when he opened his eyes he was already grabing the back of your neck, moving you even closer to him, "really?" He asked over your lips, and when you nodded with a smile, he kissed you, believing the purity of your offer. The kiss had a need you couldn't take, his mouth was locked on yours and he mantained you there, still, to kiss you as much as he wanted. His lips were bitter, like the drink he had been drinking, and yours had a mild sweet flavor because of your lip balm, making a delicious combination for him.
His tongue didn't took to much time to appear and he gave you a kiss you could've never imagined, wet, deep, trusting his tongue into your mouth like a man trying to find gold, making you moan into it, so different from the old pecks on the lips he used to gave you.
"Wait-" you couldn't breath and tried to push him away, even if you wanted, you had no experience so it was too much for you to take.
"Please" he begged to the air. You looked at his frowned eyebrows and his teary eyes, how could you say no to that pretty face? Your little star, you knew how much he needed you in that moment just from the way his lips tried to find you again and again.
He, on the other hand, didn't know what was happening to him. Maybe he thought you looked good because he had been dumped not long ago and he and his high sex drive were suffering, or because you offered to take care of him, which no one had done before, or, maybe, because of how drunk he was, option that he preferred over the others to save his ego, but what mattered was that he thought you looked nice in that moment, and he wanted to kiss you again, so he did, grabbing you with force to get closer, and you, as much as you didn't mean to, accepted equally eagerly his kiss.
You had to do something, he was the one making all the movements and even if you wanted him to start, you had to control the situation, so you tried to do something you had never before and, when he exhaled over your mouth after almost a minute of not breathing, you pushed your tongue inside his mouth too, and he, like a thirsty dog, showed you his tongue to do anything you wanted, and you, like an instinct, decided to suck it, feeling his arm muscles with your hands, pushing him back a little, just enough to not be crushed by him and his big frame. He, however, stood up, moaning into the wet kiss, and then lift you to make you sit over the table, rutting his hips against you when his cock found your clothed cunt.
"Slow down" you laughed between kisses. "My parents won't come back, we have all night, and I think you deserve to take a break" you whispered and gave him a peck on the cheek.
You weren't kissing his lips, or touching a sensitive place at all, and he still moaned, feeling himself get hotter and hotter, with a boner hurting inside his pants.
"Let me take care of you" you repeated and pushed him back to what used to be your seat. He, sitting, felt your weight over him and put his hands on your thick thighs, molding them with too much force, slightly hurting you, but sure you'd like marks to remember that night the next day, so you didn't complain.
You pressed your cunt against him, feeling the border of his cock, thick and long. No doubt the pretty girl hadn't dumped this asshole earlier, you thought, such a good toy.
You moved your hips, deliciously pressing against him, feeling your panties get more and more wet. He wanted to touch you more and was pressing his fingers as if with more strength they would surpass the fabric of your pants, leaving mark after mark, too drunk to control himself.
You moved his hands up your waist, touching your skin directly under your tank top, and he, after finding the border of your pants, inserted his hands under your panties, feeling your ass with his big palms. He whimpered into the kiss when he felt the softness of your skin directly, needing more.
You stopped the make out session and saw him better. He was so gorgeous, that ruffled hair and those pink lips trying to keep kissing you, his eyes wet and the drunk look he had were perfect, but not as much as what you knew he had under that old uniform. You opened his shirt button by button, caressing the showing gold skin of his chest, so pure and tender, with those little brown buds, and then, when you opened it completely, you admired his abdomen that showed how much he worked out every day. Not after much pondering, you decided you needed to cum over it.
You kissed him and he easily moved your body with his hands over your ass, making you rock against him, fucking you with your clothes on. A little whimp left your lips and his cock twitched inside his pants, almost cumming.
He was about to cum, but you couldn't let him do it there, not just like that, so you moved out of his grip, and his hands, not wanting to, let your flesh go.
"Knew you'd be good, always making me proud, my little star" you ran your fingers through his hair and he smiled at you, showing you those cute teeth, happy of being praised. "Should we go to my room?" You asked breathlessly. His eyes admired your messy hair and the way your heavy chest was moving, in and out, making his mouth water for a taste. He nodded, too drunk with your body, he'd follow you wherever you wanted.
You grabbed his hand and made him follow you, a big puppy behind you needing comfort from his owner.
Your room was nice too, a queen bed with white bedsheets, it was clean, neat, like a room he'd see in a magazine.
His room was a mess, clothes all around and snack packages he forgets to toss out. His parents were always at work and couldn't help him tidy up, and they hadn't taught him neither, so he appreciated your room, thinking that, maybe, he wouldn't mind spending more time there with you the coming days.
You made him sit on your bed and stood in front of him. "Can you... Can you take off yours too?" He asked doubting, fingers sneaking under your tank top, he didn't want to bother you, but he really wanted to see more of you. So cute.
He thought you were neither pretty or skinny, you always wore the uniform in a lame way, skirt down the knee and blouse properly closed even in summer. Also, you didn't wear much make up or styled your hair, so you had nothing special, but something he had admitted, and all of his friends, was that you had a good pair of tits.
When you walked in, it was the first thing everyone saw, full, big, voluptuous, perfect for a good fuck. So, like all the boys he knew, he wanted to see them too.
You saw how determined he was, his eyes were focused on your chest and he gave you a look that screamed please, begging with his eyes. He hadn't been good enough, still, you decided to fulfill his wish and took it off.
Just seeing you in your bra made him lose his mind. They were spilling over the underwear, so full and smooth his mouth started to salivate. He gulped when you took your bra off too, scanning your chest and the perk of your nipples, brown and beautiful.
"What do you want to do?" You asked him, showing yourself to him. You should be embarrassed, you thought. You knew your body wasn't perfect, you had enormous tits and a soft tummy, little rolls on your back and your waist wasn't anything out of the world, but he was eating you with his eyes, as if he had never seen something as beautiful before, and you had no shame left at all.
"I-I don't know" he said after a second, the alcohol and the temperature of his body were making his mind foggy and he couldn't think anymore.
You got on your knees and opened his belt. He observed you, mesmerized.
"You've been so good, doing your homework today and always giving your best at training, you deserve a prize, don't you think so?" You asked him while pulling down his zipper. He nodded frantically.
You knew he had done no shit to deserve it, but you wanted to do it, more for you than for him.
When his cock jumped in front of your face you got honestly surprised, it was bigger than what you had expected, and it had a pretty brownish pink color on the tip.
You gave a little peck to the tip and he squirmed, sensitive after all the teasing. You smirked and then engulfed it, touching your throat. You quickly pulled out, it was so big it choked you, and you had never given a blowjob before, so you didn't know what to expect when you did it.
My big boy, you thought, and continued with your little work. You sucked as much as you could, making sure your tongue did a good work, properly at least, touching the little veins he had around his length.
His hand went to your hair and pushed your head down, choking you again. You knew you couldn't do much to control him, he was drunk and too strong for his own good, so you let him use you for a short time, feeling your juices pour out of you. You'd have definitely let him use you as much as he wanted if he hadn't hurt you before with his betrayal. When that memory came to your mind again you slapped his thigh so he could let you free, bothered again with the thought.
He, after much fighting, moved his hand away and looked at you with teary eyes again.
"What's wrong?" He cried.
"I didn't tell you you could do that" you stood up in front of him, he lifted his gaze at you and with both hands grabbed yours.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" tears fell down his eyes, begging for forgiveness, dick hurting him to a point he couldn't endure anymore.
You pushed him to his back, and he, with help of his elbows, held himself up to watch what you were about to do. You, standing, got rid of your pants and your underwear, getting completely naked while he saw you from his point of view, waiting for you and admiring the skin that you showed him.
You crawled over him and sat over his abdomen, pulsating against his naked skin. He held your hips and helped you move over him, looking head fall because of the feeling. His skin was getting wet your fluids and the tip of his dick was touching your ass, making his head dizzy with the sensation.
He wanted to move you closer to it, to help him finally cum, but you didn't let him, you were the one in control there, it was your room, your kingdom, and you were tired of letting him get his way with everything.
"Please, I want to feel you too" he begged. Even his chest was red from the drinks he had before and his eyes still had tears forming, making you smile, proud of the image under you.
"After I cum I'll help you, I promise" you said and then moaned when his thumb moved under your pussy to press your clit.
"Promise?" He said without air, in despair with the way the plump lips of your chubby pussy were making a mess over him. It was new for him, only having fucked skinny girls, but he didn't dislike it, it was different, more welcoming and soft, and he thought it would feel really good when he fucked your hole.
"When have I lied to you?" You smiled and gave him a soft kiss, caressing his cheek. He nodded, you had never lied to him, at least not that he knew about, you thought.
He helped you move harder against his abdomen with one hand over your hip, and enjoying the softness of one of your boobs with the other. He watched you get off with his body, moaning with the satisfaction of his skin against your clit and the tip of cock touching you every time your ass clasped with it.
You were about to cum and he wanted to feel you completely when you crumbled, so, sitting and making you slide to his lap, he kissed you again. His hand started to cares your pussy, playing with your clit using his thumb, and then, when you least expected it, he pushed the same thumb to feel your insides, which gladly recieved them.
You moaned loudly, free, no one would hear you both in that house, alone, with the neighbors too far away to know what was happening inside, it would be your little secret.
He, biting his lip to not cum with the pressure of your tummy and your chubby pussy over his leaking dick, inserted two fingers, so long they made you drop you head and cry, and he, needing to feel you even more, started to kiss your neck, leaving little red spots along.
"Fuck fuck" you cried. His fingers were fast, fucking your insides so good you couldn't hide your voice, pushing you to the rim.
You came no long after, you recognized he had a talent with his hands, maybe after all that basketball training he had gained a useful skill.
Or maybe from all the times he had betrayed you with other girls.
Your mood was ruined again after thinking that. He, however, wanted to keep fingering you so you could make more of a mess over his lap. Sure you had another orgasm for him, but you, getting away from his touch, didn't let him.
"What-What happened?" He asked, sitting and waiting for you to get over him with your addictive pussy again.
"Again, doing whatever you want, can't you follow a single order?" you asked, obviously disappointed. He started to really cry, surprising you. You liked it so much you almost couldn't hide your smile, and then, when he looked up to you, you saw his cock twitch, leaking, with a furious red color on the tip instead of the pink you saw before.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'll be good, I swear" he replied, tears streaming down his cheeks. Ah fuck, he had a way to make you weak, because he looked pretty most of the time, but when he cried, he was beautiful. His hand tried to touch you and you took a step back.
"Prove it" you said with your head up. The tall boy looked so small from your view. He hadn't doubt to get on his knees on the hard cold floor, fist over his thighs, to prove his devotion to you.
"I'm sorry, please, let me touch you" he begged again, you walked to him, forgiving all his past mistakes for a minute, just tonight, you repeated on your mind when he pressed his cheek against your thigh, giving it a soft kiss before lifting his eyes back to you. They were shining, reflecting your face, and you thought, yes, he deserved to touch you.
You didn't have to say much, you just grabbed his hair on your fists, like he had done to you before when you were sucking his cock, and pushed his face to your cunt. He didn't even try to hide his need, breathing your aroma and licking your clit without doubt. He couldn't breath, all your body suffocating him, nose touching your pubes and tongue working on you with force.
You were too sensitive from your past orgasm, and you were about to cum again with the way he was making out with your pussy, drinking all your juices and looking up to you with those glazing eyes, silently asking for you to cum on his face.
You did, not much later, a stream came out of you over his mouth, dripping to his chin and then his chest, and he drank it all like the liquor you poured for him before. Your legs trembled and you were about to fall, but your strong boy got you with ease and, trying to be careful, helped you lie on your bed, however, since his mind was busy thinking how much his dick hurt, he pushed you with more force than what he wanted.
Still, he noticed how pretty you looked there, you had soft but elegant features, and he liked how you looked as if you belonged in that place, in that house out of a movie, in that room out of a magazine, with your long wavy hair all over your bed, and those cute and chubby fingers holding his forearms. His hands were on each side of your head, and he noticed how your bedsheets had light pink details, so expensive looking he wouldn't even know what store you bought it from, and he felt like, there with you, he belonged in your world too, which boosted something inside him, making him even more horny and needy for your approval.
His cock was touching your naked pussy and he pushed it against it. "Can I- please can I put it in?" He pumped his dick and, before you could say anything, slapped the tip to your clit. "Please, please, please" he repeated, head on your neck, whispers to your ear.
You grabbed his dick, hand moving between your bodies, and without saying anything, you pushed the thick tip into your hole, wet and ready for him.
You didn't want to be so weak, but it felt so, so good. You closed your eyes and moaned when his hips, in a single thrust, fucked your insides, opening you like nothing had ever before.
His movements were erratic, hips moving on its own, eyes rolling and body all over yours.
Your nails scratched his back with your cries, you were so full your mind couldn't thing of anything else than your next orgasm.
"Yes, yes, fuck, so good" you screamed, and he, between groans and cries, gave you an open mouthed kiss, touching your tongue with his and muffing his moans when he almost came inside you.
He had never felt sex like that before, he didn't know if it was because of the drinks he had, or all the teasing from before, but the way both of you were leaking on each other made his head hazy, just feeling, no thought inside his head except I wanna cum.
So this is mind-blowing sex? He thought, rutting into your pussy.
Before you could say anything he put both hands on your waist, pushing you to the mattress and, after settling to watch your pussy engulf his cock, he watched how your pretty pink lips held him, dick disappearing with every thrust.
His hands were too rough, hurting your soft waist, you felt his fingers put so much pressure they felt like big needles trying to perforate you, "Sungchan- it" when you tried to tell him how it hurt, he was already drilling you to the bed. Hips punching you with uncontrollable force, making you break apart under him.
He must have noticed what you tried to say because while fucking you he kept apologizing, "Sorry, so good, I'm sorry", but he never stopped.
He didn't know what would he do after, too obsessed with the flesh of your pussy, no one had taken him like you did, completely accepting him inside and calling for him to not stop, most girls couldn't take him like you did, never getting to the end of his cock, but you, you easily did it, tight and perfect around him.
You felt his pelvic bone punch your clit with every thrust, making you squirm under him, biting your lip and crying of how delicious it felt.
"Cumming-" you cried hard, and he, proud of himself for making you cum again, kept fucking your insides, stimulating you even more, so much that, when you were having your orgasm, you made a mess over his dick again.
Then, while you were still cumming, he covered you with his whole body, your tits against his chest, and you knew he was about to cum when his mouth tried to find yours for a kiss, but his eyes closed with force before he could, cock getting bigger inside you, and before he could kiss you like he wanted, he moaned over your lips, hips stopping every movement, pouring everything he had inside you.
You wanted to get angry at him for cumming inside, but he looked so cute over you, with lost eyes, red lips and his sweaty face, so pretty you couldn't say anything and only caressed his hair. He, so satisfied he couldn't talk, gave you the kiss he needed when he was about to cum, breathing you in, to then lie down over your chest, where, like a baby, he licked your nipple to calm himself until he felt asleep.
You smiled, he was so precious you didn't want to share him, your little star, but you couldn't fool yourself anymore, he had another owner not long ago, and only came to you to get what he needed, so he had to learn his lesson.
On your head you were going through the next step of your plan. Tomorrow morning you both would go to school, and you, as innocent as you were, would lose his project by accident.
Your beautiful, lovable and cheating star was about to fall.
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fan-goddess · 2 months
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Yes sir…
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Thank you @succnfuccubus for inspiring me to write this and convincing me to actually do this
Summary: After another rejection, Billy’s feeling a little down in the dumps. But after meeting with your friend that morning and looking at a unique source material, you get a very unique idea on how to hopefully cheer him up.
Authors Note: Gave the friend a name as it was just easier. I loved the idea, but I don’t like this for some reason
Taglist: @valeskafics, @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @omgbrcat @blue-serendipity @arcielee @targaryenbarbie @anjelicawrites d
Warnings: Smut books, p in v sex, m oral, praise kink, power imbalance role play, role play, angst, comforting, sad boy Billy Washington, the economy, begging, cuddling (if I miss any let me know)
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Billy had never been a particularly avid reader. The most he’d ever voluntarily read probably being the required reading for secondary school English. You on the other hand, even before you’d stumbled across the smut section on the internet, had always been a common bookworm.
When your friend Lya first began to lend you books from her so called private collection though, now that’s when you became a woman possessed. Soon, most of what you were reading involved some sort of dark romance filtered in. Whether that was mafia, pirate, or just a simple brother’s best friend romance. You read it all with an expressionless face.
Yet when you’d begun to date Billy, you must confess to the amusement of Lya, who you’d been borrowing books from for all these years, that you hadn’t been borrowing and reading as many of those sort of books as you used too. Since now, you had a real life romance novel in front of your very eyes to carry out. It wasn’t exactly the dream romance kids pictured after watching a Disney movie, but what sort of relationships were these days?
The last few days, you and Billy had been unable to have sex due to a sudden difference in work times. Well, your work times and Billy’s interviews. Still, whilst you were used to this happening at some random times, your pussy had taken a sudden hit with the recent dry streak. Now, you were beginning to crave one of those novels of yours in your hands again. Desperate for a new sort of fiction that’d get brain stimulated and your cunt working.
So you called the best smut dealer you knew.
“Hey bestie!” You grinned, picking at your nail while your other hand was busy holding the phone. “I need a favour…” She’d laughed when you’d asked her for a new recommendation, yet to your relief, you and her had managed to agree to a meet up the next day to, exchange the goods.
The morning you were supposed to leave, you remember kissing Billy goodbye as your adorable half asleep boyfriend was still laying in bed all cosy and pretty. “Where are you going?” He’d grumbled, so cute with a small tired pout on his face that it almost made you want to strip back down to nothing and pounce on him there and then. The lack of sex it seemed was really getting to you right now.
“Visiting one of my friends for a morning drink. Nothing much baby. Remember though you’ve got that interview at 3, so don’t forget!” You smiled, giving him another deep kiss before you go that left Billy’s cheeks flushed from bashfulness. He’s so effortlessly fucking sexy it was utterly unreal…
When you got to the cafe you’d planned to meet Lya at, she eagerly waved at you from a discreet corner of the room. She may be honest as hell about what she reads, but she sure as hell knows how to act like a fucking dealer about it.
“Hello darling!” You smile, moving so you could give her a quick hug before sitting opposite her. “How’ve you been?”
“I’ve been alright thanks babes! Stocking up on my little novel collection, which reminds me!” She gives you a mischievous smile, and from her bag produced a book with quite a different cover than what you thought it’d be. As she places in front of you what looks to be a copy of great expectations.
“Think you’ve mixed up the books Lya!” You laugh, giggling in amusement when you see her look at you with such disappointment.
“Course I haven’t idiot!” She sighs, moving to grab the book and remove the book cover, before showing you the back of it. Where much to your surprise, you find the blurb for a very different book. Called ‘Unbuttoning the CEO’. “I read it last week and thought it’d be perfect for you!”
You laugh at the title and place the secret cover back on, before placing it in your bag. You don’t bring the book up again the rest of the catch up convo, but at the end when the two of you have eaten your cakes, drunk your coffees and were saying your goodbyes, you made sure to let Lya know what you thought of the book when you read it.
When you get back home, you head to the bedroom first to see if Billy’s back or not. The bed you can see is unmade and ruffled, yet when you feel it you can tell it’s cold to the touch, telling you Billy left a while a go. You head to the living room and sit on the sofa with a small sigh, praying Billy didn’t decide to head to the pub before a job interview.
You’re still for a couple minutes trying to think of what to do to occupy your time while you wait for Billy, and your eyes can’t help but be drawn to your bag, where the book practically taunts you from inside it. Before you even know it, you’re curled up on the sofa with the book in your hand and your lip between your teeth.
Words blur as you read sentence after sentence, but your eyes certainly eagerly tune in when you get to the actual sex part, which wasn’t even very far in to be honest.
The ceo takes the assistant on his desk, and you can’t help but clench your legs together when you read about how later on the assistant helps the CEO to ‘destress’. You take a small break to make yourself a quick drink, and can’t help but find your mind drifting to the idea of you and Billy in those scenes, playing those characters. You can’t help but forget about even making any sort of drink as you imagine exactly how you could help Billy destress from the recent unfair influx of job rejections.
You eagerly get back to reading though, and by the time Billy comes back home around 5, stinking slightly of cheap lager, you’ve already finished the book twice and reread your favourite scenes about three times over.
“Hey baby!” You smile, making note on how Billy nuzzles his body into yours as much as he can as soon as he gets close enough. Your pretty little teddy bear… “How’d it go?”
“Said I weren’t what they were looking for…” He murmurs into the length of your neck, as you kiss the top of his head softly. “Another fucking failure to add to the list…”
“Don’t say that!” You firmly say, placing both your hands on the side of his face to force his eyes to meet yours. You hate the way he looks so broken in that moment. So beaten by the world that all you want to do in that moment is wrap your arms around him and keep him safe from everything and everyone. The assholes who hurt him hurt him good and deep, and if you could, you’d beat them to death yourself. Maybe even with your porn book that’d be a right sight you must admit… “You are fucking amazing! You’re my favourite person in the whole world and I will not have you bring yourself down! Do you understand me Billy Washington?”
He gulps, and for a second you swear you can see tears build up in his eyes before they’re quickly blinked away.
“I-I underhand darling. Thank you, for being there for me. For everything.” He says, before bringing you in for a hug. Practically crushing you with how hard his arms lock around your waist and his head stays tucked in the skin of your neck.
The two of you stay there for what feels like hours. Holding each other while the time goes by. The only reason the two of you even break away from each other is because your phone rings so loudly all of a sudden and shocks the two of you into remembering the situation at hand. You quickly move to switch your phone on silent, and yet your eyes somehow manage to drift to the book peeking out from behind a sofa cushion, and an idea makes it way through your mind.
“Hey Billy…” You begin, smirking when you see Billy’s usual shy persona breaking through his shell once more when he sees that smile of yours. “I wanna try something tonight…”
“What is it?” He asks, raising a brow and stepping back slightly when he sees the grin on your face.
“Just something I read recently. Wanna see how you’ll like it…” You purr, placing your hands on his shoulders and dragging him to the edge of the sofa, before pushing him slightly so he falls backwards with a small gasp. His eyes open wide as they stare at you with such awe and admiration that you can’t help but find yourself blushing slightly.
You slowly lower yourself between Billy’s legs, which seem to open as wide as they can automatically, and with innocent fluttering eyes, lay your head on the side on his leg.
“Can I please suck your cock sir?” You beg, a pout on your lips to mimic pure desperation as Billy practically seems to have a heart attack above you. He appears breathless as you spring this sudden fantasy upon him, and yet by the way you can see and feel his trousers move and strain with his quickly swelling cock, you can tell with certainty that he definitely seems to be enjoying this.
“Yes…” He eventually murmurs with a heavy breath. “You can suck my cock….”
“Thank you sir, I promise I won’t let you down!” You smile, moving your hands to undo his belt and shimmy down his trousers and his underwear. When Billy is left sitting naked before you, as he’d claimed to feel silly if he was sitting in just his shirt, you can’t even stop yourself from admiring your boyfriends erect cock that stands proudly before your face.
“Such a pretty cock sir…” You murmur, before opening your mouth and taking it in your mouth as far as you can before your nose hits the small soft patch of hair lying at the base of Billy’s cock.
You can hear him keen and whine above you, and you’re very sad you can’t see the way his eyes no doubt roll to the back of his head. You slowly move your head back and forth, keeping a steady pace that leaves Billy practically shaking and whining above you.
“Please….” You hear him beg. A noise you love more than anything, and yet at this moment it’s not what you want. You want him to feel in control for once. To know how much you worship him and adore him. To know that he has the ability to make you become so needy and desperate for him that you’ll do anything to please him. That is, with the right words of course.
“Please darling!” He continues, his whimpering so delightful to your ears that you almost throw your plan out the window so you could give him as many earth shattering orgasms as he deserves. But patience is a virtue, so you continue to suck at Billy’s cock in a leisurely pace. Drawing all sorts of noises from him that leaves your own lower half aching for a release.
“Take control of me Billy…” You eventually say, admittedly growing tired of the lack of communication between the both of you. “Take hold of me and do whatever you want to me sir…”
It seems your words finally made it into his pretty little head. Since as soon as you try and go back to putting your mouth on him after saying those words to him, you feel a strong hand wrap itself between the strands of your hair, atopping you from getting anymore closer to his cock than what you already are. It makes your pussy admittedly wetter as you’re now effectively eye level with Billy’s weeping member, and yet am unable to touch it at all. Forced to stare at it while it weeps a single drop his precum and watch while it trails down his erection. It’s absolute fucking torture.
“Please sir!” You find yourself begging, an actual pout on your lips as desperation claws up your whole body. “I wanna make you feel good sir! Wanna warm your cock in my mouth and feel your cum trickling down my throat!”
You can feel the grip his hands have on your hair tighten, and before you know it, Billy’s cock is hitting the back of your throat and your eyes are rolling to the back of your head as your used like a pathetic fuck toy. You let your body go limp as you allow Billy to use you however he decides, yet he doesn’t seem to exactly have that part figured out yet, as he focuses on moaning and groaning about you like a porn star while he uses you to his current hearts content.
For a while, you almost find yourself unable to breathe. Gasping for air whenever the opportunity appeared. Yet still, you persist in your willingness, eager to see the usually so submissive man in front of you break.
“Fuck I’m gonna cum!” He groans, moaning as he further tightens his grip on you and forces you to work harder and faster on his cock. You moan wantonly and work your tongue harder as you feel his tip become drenched in a delicious mixture of both your spit and his precum, and feel his entire length throb under the weight of your efforts. It’s actually quite flattering really, seeing how fast he’s about to cum from your suggestions.
“Fuuuuuuck please swallow baby please please please!” He whines, that inner submissive of his still lingering as he holds your head down firmly on his cock while you feel his cum shoot down to the back of your throat, and practically choke you with how much you feel quickly filling your mouth. You cough slightly as you try and obey Billy by swallowing what you can, yet you can’t help but have a few drops of his essence flow down your cheek as you struggle swallowing the first few drops.
“Here you go baby…” Billy murmurs, using his fingers to pick up the stray dribbles and put them in front of your lips. Admittedly you feel quite bashful as you avoid his eyes while sucking the remaining taste of him off his fingers, but as soon as you finish, those same now spit covered fingers rest under your chin and force your head up so your eyes can meet.
A silent gasp releases under your breath as you see an uncharacteristic carefree yet somehow cocky smile on Billy’s face. That submissive man you saw not even five minutes ago gone as this new, changed man sits before you. Like some sort of strange sexual butterfly.
“You were a good girl for me.” He simply says, allowing you to bask in the feeling of his dominance that makes your legs weak at the knees. “And good girls if I’m right, get rewarded. You taught me that pretty girl. So please, get naked, and get on the bed for me arse up, so I can reward you for being so good for me.”
Fuck you’ve made a monster. A sexy one yes, but still a sexually dominant monster.
You do as Billy says to a T. Stripping yourself quickly so that your clothes are all over the bedroom floor, and placing your body on the bed in Billy’s desired position. You wait with bated breath for what feels like hours while your skin erupts in a multitude of goosebumps, and you swear you nearly jump out of your skin when you feel Billy’s warm skin suddenly against yours. You feel his half hard cock rubbing almost pitifully against your arse, and you realise with a very sick thrill that you can actually feel him getting harder the more your juices seem to coat him.
It seems though you were so caught up in your thoughts, that you miss the sounds of Billy’s own clumsy movements of stripping.
“So pretty…” He groans. A beautiful sound that leaves you wanting more more and more. How greedy of you… “You want to be fucked by me don’t you? By your boss?”
“Yes sir!” You whine, your head going dull as you stay focused only Billy’s body and nothing else. On the way he makes you feel so effortlessly, and without meaning. “Want you to make me yours! Want me to make sure everyone knows I only belong to you!”
You can hear Billy deeply grunt behind you, and with a gasp you don’t even at first realise belong to you, you feel Billy thrust his cock deep inside you. An intense feeling of fullness hitting you as you close your eyes and grip your hands desperately at the sheets in an attempt to ground yourself.
He gratefully allows you to get used to the sudden intrusion, but before you know it, Billy is quickly thrusting himself quickly in and out of you while you moan and keen for more beneath him. Your eyes screwing shut as your lower belly slowly tightens harder and harder.
“So good!” He groans, unexpectedly yet cautiously smacking your backside with his palm that causes an absolute pathetic sound to leave your lips. “My sweet little slut. All mine to fuck!”
An abundance of yeses comes quickly and brainlessly as you answer Billy’s statement with a high pitched moan. All you want right now is to cum. And by the way you can feel your cunt clenching and fluttering hard around Billy’s cock, you can guess it won’t be long before you do.
“Fuck sir I wanna cum please let me cum for you sir I’ve been so good!” You whine, your mouth hanging open in a silent scream as Billy somehow manages to move himself faster against you. The sound of his skin smacking at such a fast pace against your own to your ears sounding like an erotic symphony.
“Yes… you have been good…” Billy groans. His voice so strained it’s as if he’s struggling with all his strength to say them. “So you’ll continue to be good… by taking my fucking cum in your perfect cunt!”
You take that as your queue, and with a loud unwavering yell, you cum hard around Billy’s cock. Coaxing forth his own orgasm as he clutches hard at your skin and pushes himself as deep as he can to you. Moaning as you focus on the feeling of his hot cum filling you.
You can also feel his pubic hair stimulating your swollen clit, which leaves you silently gasping against the mattress and your aching pussy clenching against Billy’s softening cock.
The two of you stay where you are as you allow each other to breathe and calm down, yet it’s not long before the two of you are cuddling under the bed covers, with Billy’s cock still inside you.
“Did you like that baby?” You can’t help but murmur. Anxious on whether Billy was happy over you pushing him out of his usual comfort zone.
“It was different…” He summarises. You cannot see his face to make any assumptions. Given that your man has gone back to his roots by putting his head in the curve of your neck. “But I liked it. I liked it a lot.”
You may not be able to see it, but even so, your ego swells massively when you realise you can feel Billy’s bashful smile against your skin. It almost makes you want to have your wicked way with him again. That is though, before you realise with a warm feeling chest that Billy has steadily fallen asleep against you. With his softened cock still inside you, and your arms wrapped firmly around his body ensuring his safety.
“Sleep baby…” You murmur, kissing the top of his head with a smile. “You were such a good boy for me baby… we’ll see about rewarding you later….”
You may have imagined it, but you swear you can feel Billy smile against your skin. Yet you push the thought away and instead choose to close your eyes, and allow your own exhaustion to overcome you. You and Billy’s breaths and hearts synching as you hold each other with as much love as a sleeping person could handle.
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cazort · 1 year
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If you want an idea of how completely unhinged Elon Musk has become, according to this article, he has told staff to expect "80 hour weeks". Now, as someone who has worked some long workweeks in some past jobs, I want to explain what this really means.
An 80-hour week means, if you work only 5 days, that you are working 16 hour days. This is not physically possible without (physically and mentally) dangerous levels of sleep loss. If you work 6 days, you're left with over 13 hours. So the only possible way you can work 80 hour weeks is if you are working every day.
If you work all 7 days with no rest, that you are working on average, close to 11.5 hours a day. Assuming you are only taking 30 minute meals and you take 1.5 hours eating, and you leave 8 hours for sleep opportunity (this doesn't mean you'll be sleeping all those 8 hours) this leaves only 3 hours for other responsibilities.
This is pretty much only humanly possible for people who have no other responsibilities outside of work. And this is pretty much no-one. People still need to shower and engage in various types of physical self-care, and maintenance of their household. Anyone with any medical condition needs more time for maintenance of it. Anyone with a family needs a lot of time for it. Unless you live right next to your work, almost everyone loses a significant amount of time to commuting.
So what happens in practice, if a person works such a long workweek, is that they do have other responsibilities, often urgent ones. So they lose sleep, often a lot of it.
And when people's sleep suffers, their productivity as employees suffers too.
Even if you were to be a completely cold, heartless capitalist looking to extract the maximum productivity from your workers, demanding an 80-hour workweek would be a losing proposition for the simple fact that you would be pushing your workers into a sub-optimal state in which they would have very low productive output per-hour.
You can often get much more done with less work, if you stay well-rested. Where this point lies, is different for different people, both because of differing levels of responsibilities outside of work, and because of different needs for sleep. People with certain chronic conditions not only may need more sleep, but may need more sleep opportunity in order to get the same amount of sleep.
If Elon Musk had any common sense, he would understand this. The fact that he's asking for 80-hour weeks shows that he is dangerously unhinged. He is going to run Twitter into the ground, and he is going to ruin himself in the process.
I think it is sad that we as a society allowed this man to become as powerful and wealthy and influential as he is. I don't think it's acceptable for anyone to be that wealthy, that they can just buy a company like Twitter singlehandedly. But it's especially concerning with this particular human being. How did so many people get fooled? The investors, the board of the corporation (Tesla) that he rode to power on? The media and millions of everyday people who became fans of this man and gave him such a big audience? All of these people got duped. All of these people would do well to do some introspection and ask themselves how and why they got scammed by this con-artist.
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Why does the Ashley-Leon age gap debate exist? Just say you don't like the pairing! That's totally your choice. In mine and many others opinions, we just don't see it that way. They feel like such great friends if ANYTHING. I doubt a 7 yr age gap, with starkly different lives have anything in common. Here we have a goody two shoes sorority girl who's also the president's daughter, probably had everything handed to her yet she still manages to be a sweetheart. Leon, an orphaned good boy who was flung into this line of work against his will, and can't really stop, and uses humor and sarcasm to cope.
I think they're more alike than people are lead to believe. Think of it, the day before Leon knew his first day of the job, he decided to drink in excess which left him hungover. I mean what else can you expect from a 21 year old? Pretty immature move to me. And you see that, in a way, he is still stuck in the past. Trauma is known to freeze you in the past, which explains his childish and awkward behavior now. Throughout re2r, he says this "I can do this." When he points his gun a couple times in R.P.D. It's adorable, it's naive, it's precious, he's obviously insecure and afraid, and didn't want this life. On Operation Javier, he gets distracted by a literal butterfly and Krauser saves him from a snake about to attack Leon. He seems to be a bit airheaded and in his own world at the least. In re4, it's clear he's transformed into an edgelord, which is entirely understandable based on his circumstances. He compares Ashley to something as comforting and secure as a mother figure, even as Leon's an orphan, he can still make out the feeling of security with Ashley. As they say, you seek out your parents in your partner. Your parents are your first relationship, which he couldn't really have. But you still have that primal instinct of what makes you feel at home. A familial bond is also there with your spouse and kids.
Ashley's overprotectiveness and judgements for things like jumping across chandeliers, is out of worry Leon will get hurt. Even as he's battling a psychotic mind controlling plague cult, she manages to be selfless, because she cares and even loves Leon. Leon notices she's careful, and makes that comment, "what are you, my mother?" I find it interesting that someone who doesn't have a bond with his family would say that. Just tells me he feels close to her.
You can see the side of Leon he truly is. He's not a mindless killing machine, he makes jokes, one-liners, cute things like "nighty night, knights." And "goddamn, I almost became a pancake." It's clear he uses childish humor to cope, but in his most serious moments, you understand that there is NO ROOM for weakness in his mission, no jokes, or whatnot, so sometimes his seriousness came out with the danger of the mission, and he was able to mature a little more since raccoon.
But he finds a way to connect with Ashley on so many levels that they begin to like each other, and deeply care for one another throughout the game.
I don't believe a cold and brooding asshole would be able to make Ashley that happy by the end of the game. Leon was sweet, protecting and selfless towards Ashley and so was she.
(none of this is including re6 Leon, just in re2-re4)
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ppumeonae-bigvibe · 8 days
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(he's) my work crush!!
↖ navigation: nct masterlist || main masterlist
pairing: co-worker/ crush! taeyong x gn! reader
↬ tags: colleagues au!, two silly people crushing on each other (my one sided delusion has allowed me to write this), ft tyong's friend doyoung at the very end through a single text
summary: work crushes do make your time at work a whole lot better!
word count: 633 words
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“fancy meeting you here!”
you nearly dropped your phone and at the smooth, baritone voice from behind you. almost immediately, your entire body awakens at his mere closeness.
taeyong waves at you, eyes crinkling up as he moves to stand beside you.
you gave him a quick once over: clad in a simple button down and slacks, he always looked neat and tidy, his leather workbag slung on the right side of his body. his bright personality was infectious and paired with a smart-looking set of glasses, he was very easy on the eyes.
you subtly straightened your clothing and hair, hoping you didn’t appear too messy before him.
“yeah…! i saw that you were quite busy and assumed you might have to work overtime today.” taeyong was a new transfer to your department; placed in team 3, you occasionally saw him around, but never once interacted much beyond a "hi" or "bye".
you recall the first time you properly talked to taeyong: he sat beside you on one particularly crowded day at the staff canteen and for the sake of small talk you chatted with him since you two weren't exactly strangers. to your surprise, you two had hit it off well, having many topics to share about (talking smack about the company was a common one).
from then, taeyong became a constant partner during lunch hours...and you developed a tiny crush on him. after the first chance meeting, it was as if he had purposely found his way to you, catching you in the shared pantry, actively asking you for directions and bumping into you by the lifts. eventually you got comfortable to
as he clears his throat, you were pulled out of your revere and you noticed the sheepish smile on his face, explaining, “well, i was tryna pack my bag faster because...i...uh...was hoping to walk with you to the bus stop when work ended.”
getting flustered at the realization he was expecting you, you nodded in affirmation. taeyong pulled out his phone, thumbs busy tapping away. you took this moment to look away, trying to compose yourself in front of him.
“by the way, your bus is coming soon. mine’s two minutes after yours.” taeyong leans towards you, tilting his phone so you could see the timings for yourself. you couldn't help but inhale deeply, his signature cologne a nice welcome amidst all the dust and smoke of your surroundings.
“mhm. thanks for telling me.” you met his gaze and he grinned, "no worries. you do that for me all the time." that was true: often times you'd find taeyong scrambling to settle the last bit of his work, being new to the department and all. because you were already searching for the bus timings, you helped him out too.
"oh! there's your bus."
a sigh left your lips unconsciously, "thanks for waiting with me." he reciprocates the gesture, "i'll see you tomorrow...?" his eyes sparked with hope and anticipation and you hid a pleased smile, "yeah i'll see you tomorrow."
you board on the bus, slipping your headphones on to drown out the noises of the growing crowd. your gaze lands on taeyong standing outside the bus and he shoots you a warm smile, waving goodbye as the bus pulls out of the driveway. unable to contain the growing flush that is warming you from head to toe, you revel in the fact you did manage to catch him, even if it was a short moment.
"see you tomorrow..."
------
taeyong watches forlornly as your bus trundles away, a wide smirk touching his lips. fingers flying across his phone screen, he hurriedly texts his friend while he flags down his bus.
taeyong: guess who i saw at the bus stop today??! my work crush!!
doyoung: SAY IT NOW.
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@ppumeonae-bigvibe 's work ; likes and reblogs are appreciated <3
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Zeus Cabin Deep Dive & Analysis
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As stated in the Percy Jackson TV show and books, being a demigod sucks, especially given the broken system. Being a forbidden child sucks, given that it is an isolating experience. However, being the child of the god who is one of, if not the most responsible for the broken system, the god most unwilling to change his perspective, is the worst.
Not only that, add that in with the fact that being a child of Zeus gives you alot of added pressures in general. As a child of Zeus, you are expected to lead in one way or another, and almost always, children of Zeus have very little say in their paths in life.
Thalia Grace managed to escape the pressures of being a child of Zeus by joining the hunters. Jason, was a boy, so he didn’t get that same choice. Instead, he was forced to endure the pressures of being a child of Jupiter, until he was able to pass it down to someone else.
However, Jason was never truly free from these pressures until he died.
It also seems like, contrary to popular belief, Zeus isn’t a very popular godly parent. In a series of polls I ran, I asked people about their godly parents- nobody chose Zeus. The survey for Zeus cabin remained blank. I asked if people knew someone in real life who would be a child of Zeus, most said no.
Zeus, in general seems to be a very unpopular god in general, and it may seem very arrogant to many to claim to be a child of Zeus. I also don’t think there are a lot of discussions on children of Zeus in general.. because analyzing the Zeus cabin as a whole, there are many traits that I think alot of people don’t realize.
The curse of being a natural leader
While he is Roman, I am going to be including Jason in this analysis, because I think a lot of what applies to Thalia also applies to him, even if there is a slight difference.
Now, Jason and Thalia are the only two (demigod) children of Zeus we meet throughout the series, and both characters have distinct personality traits. Thalia, is much more hot-headed than Jason is. Jason is more experienced in leadership than Thalia is, but there is one thing they certainly have in common: they are often under immense amounts of pressure.
They are natural born leaders, mainly because their father is the king of Olympus. Leadership seems to be the trait most commonly associated with Zeus kids- even when I did the fandom survey, asking what traits people commonly associate with Zeus kids, nearly everyone said leadership.
There had always been a lot expected from Jason, being a child of Jupiter. He was expected to lead, he was Camp Jupiter’s golden boy, and sure, a lot of it was pure skill and experience, but a lot of it was also the fact that he was a child of Jupiter.
These pressures only followed him to Camp Half Blood, where he was immediately expected to lead a quest. Jason is shown to be somewhat tired of the expectations placed on him.
Thalia… was pretty much the same, just slightly different.
Thalia was not only a child of Zeus, but at one point, she was thought to be the child of the prophecy. So not only was she expected to be a leader, not only was an unreasonable amount of attention placed upon her for being a child of Zeus, there was also a level of danger that followed her around as well.
Until of course, she became a hunter of Artemis, and the expectations shifted back to Percy. However, I am fully of the belief that a lot of factors went into her decision of joining the hunt, but among the most significant factors, was that she would be free from the near impossible expectations.
Gifted Kid Burn Out
A lot of people associate gifted kid burn out with Athena kids, and don’t get me wrong, I understand why, but from examples we see in the text, children of Zeus often fit this mold much better. Children who are proven to be very gifted at a young age, very good at what they do, so they were given high, nearly impossible expectations.
Half the time, they had very little help or support navigating these expectations. Thalia ran away from home at a young age, and didn’t get to train at camp in the same way other characters were. Jason was raised by wolves… literally. So for the most part, they were left behind by the system that created them.
Then they are put into situations, with people just as good at leading, some just as powerful, after being told their whole lives they were the best at everything. That has got to suck, to be shown that you really aren’t as good at something you are supposed to be the best at.
For Thalia, we see her become a bit competitive, especially with Percy. Their egos, as children of the Big Three, tend to clash, because they are almost always fighting for the attention and respect of others.
Jason, however, does not know what to do with himself anymore. We see glimpses of him going through a existential crisis- why does he always have to be the leader? But what is he, if he is not a leader?
Thalia and Jason tend to show many traits of traumatized gifted kids, to the point where they just give up altogether.
The shittiest father in a world of shitty fathers.
Okay, this is obviously subjective, but Zeus, in the Percy Jackson universe, is probably the worst father, even towards his godly children. He quite literally tells Jason that he cannot openly show his pride towards him, or else his other children will get jealous. Not only this, but he is responsible for a lot of decisions that force godly parents to be somewhat neglectful towards their children, especially after the first series.
It is deeply implied throughout the two series, that Zeus does love his children… to an extent. He does not love his children enough to put his pride aside for them. So as isolating as it is, being Zeus’s son, they seem to be most isolated by their father.
In Conclusion
I feel like children of Zeus are some of the most misunderstood children, at least fandom wise. There seems to be this idea that all children of Zeus are arrogant assholes, like their father, but they are actually the most obvious examples of the gods’ neglect.
Overall, most children of Zeus find ways to be freed of their fate, of their responsibilities, because oftentimes, it is overbearing. Some die. Some pass the torch. Some join the hunt.
Either way, one thing is for certain: where there is a child of Zeus, there is a leader.
The Masterlist
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radioactivepeasant · 1 month
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Snippets: Free Day Friday
Fragile Things (the one where Damas time traveled)
Spargus: a month and a half after Damas rescued Jak from Haven.
Jak seemed to have been waiting for him -- unless he had been stealing dates from the palms in the throne room again, which was a very real possibility.
Damas ruled this out when he saw the conflicted look on the boy's face.
"You're up here early," he said by way of greeting, "I thought you were going to join the field trip to Tributary to get parts for your talk-box."
Jak shrugged and hopped from one stepping stone to the next. "That's later. Had to ask you something first."
He looked...nervous. Like he didn't really want to ask, but couldn't bear to hold the question in.
"Ask away, little one." Damas tousled Jak's hair as he passed him.
He was never going to get over how small Jak was at thirteen. The Jak he knew before almost always managed to dodge him. This Jak never saw him coming. Stranger, this Jak never minded. The Before Jak soaked up any little scrap of kindness with a painful desperation, and so did the Present Jak. But this one didn't shy away from touch. Sometimes he even ambushed Damas in the market to hug him playfully and then run off to get into more trouble.
The second he'd turned to face Jak, the question was flying out of the boy's hands.
"Are you actually my father or something?"
He cringed.
"Sorry. It's just- Never had anybody help me like you, except Daxter."
He didn't use exactly the same signing dialect that Spargus used. It was faster, and a little hard to distinguish tense indicators sometimes, but not so different that Damas couldn't work out what he meant. Jak vocalized sometimes, when he felt comfortable, but they were sounds more than language. And Damas did remember Jak telling him before that he'd spent much of his childhood nonverbal. But it was more jarring than he'd expected when it came from a smaller, softer face. One that reminded him, over and over, of Mar.
"I-"
"And- and Samos always helped Keira but not me and Dax because we weren't his kids, so I couldn't figure out why you're so nice to me if you're not like, y'know, my-" Jak's face reddened and his signs became small and faster. "My dad or something. Sorry. Sorrysorry just forget it."
Damas blinked and realized he'd stopped breathing for a moment. He took a breath and slowly lowered himself to sit on the dais, waving Jak over to sit beside him.
"No, nonono don't apologize. It's- I've been trying to think of how to tell you this for weeks. It's just...going to sound strange."
"As strange as going through a giant transport ring and time going weird?" Jak asked as he gingerly sat down.
"Oh, absolutely." Damas rubbed his chin and glanced at Jak from the corner of his eye.
"I...do not know how closely we are related, to tell you the truth. But the longer you're here, the more certain I become that we do share blood. I just...don't know how many generations back our common ancestor is."
It was the only explanation he could think of for why Jak resembled Mar so closely. Why he looked at him sometimes and saw both of his sons in one face. Why the boy had the same prism-potential in channeling.
"Oh." Jak sat up a little straighter. "Really? I thought I didn't have any family! I mean, there's Uncle, but he's gone all the time."
Damas cleared his throat awkwardly. "There's ah, there's something else."
"What is it?" Now far less tense, Jak leaned in eagerly.
"I...do not know how to explain it, truthfully," Damas sighed, "But I...somehow I lived three years into the future, or saw a vision -- I'm beginning to wonder which it was -- and in that future you- you were there. You- I had taken you in as my own son."
Jak tilted his head, then his eyes flew wide. His mouth dropped open a little. "You saw me? And I was your kid on purpose?!"
"On purpose," Damas agreed, smiling a little at the turn of phrase.
"That's why you came to attack that commander? You were actually looking for me?" Jak scooted closer, and an eager expression began to replace his slightly nervous one.
"Yes," Damas answered gravely, "Because I had seen my future son and I could never leave him behind, even if he didn't know me."
even if you're not interested in being family this time. As long as you're safe, I'm happy- just as long as you're safe!
Jak made a thoughtful sound and propped his chin up on his fists. For a worryingly long time he stared off into space, thinking. Then he smiled, bright and innocent.
"Oh, okay."
Damas blinked. "Okay?"
"Yeah. I was just wondering. I'm glad I asked." He hopped to his feet and stretched.
"You're way nicer than Samos is. I'd rather you be my dad than him."
Damas shoved away memories of a certain Arena debacle. "I...certainly hope to live up to your expectations, my boy."
"Also, it would be weird if Samos tried to be my dad because he's been mean. And because then Keira would be my sister and I don't think she'd like that. I wouldn't either."
The child hopped down the stairs and balanced on one foot on the stepping stones. He pretended to wobble before grinning and hopping to the next stone.
"I'm gonna go to the field trip thing now." Jak beamed and waved. "Bye Damas!"
He all but bounced to the elevator, humming happily.
Damas stayed sitting, not entirely sure what had just happened.
"Well," he said aloud, "that could've gone worse."
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lililovesthings · 9 months
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How did I miss this??? (Part 2)
Now previously I said that I think these two have been together (and I mean TOGETHER together) for a very long time.
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I have had some more thoughts/theories...they just keep coming and to be honest I'm not even sure where to start but I'll give it a go.
I do not expect anyone to read this but in all honesty, I just need to get it out. This has been going round in my head for a few days whilst I attempt to form it into a path of logical reasoning. I think I am there and there are holes but hopefully you lot can help me fill them in. So, get comfy, we might be here a while…
Assuming the meeting in Rome was a date...they have been doing this for a long time. Now at first they were extremely careful but over the centuries they became a little more brazen with being seen in public together, knowing what they could get away with. Again, nothing too obvious.
Now, many have been talking about the bookshop as a metaphor for Aziraphale and Crowley's relationship, but I think it's more than that. I shall explain:
Before I get into it, a few pieces of information that are relatively common knowledge and/or I have come across in my daily browsing (I can’t find where I saw all of them, so anyone please help):
Neil Gaiman has said that the scenes we see between Aziraphale and Crowley aren’t all the times they’ve met. This is just the meetings we see – which is understandable considering they’ve been on the planet for 6000 years.
Zira and Crowley evidently have some form of connection or awareness to their respective head offices. Even going so far as to know when they are being watched (S1, EP 6) just before they swap back.
We can all agree that there is almost nothing that is not there for a reason; details, easter eggs, acting choices, props, set etc.
We also know that the story is pretty much plotted out so it stands to reason that there will be a few story threads that go through all episodes, however subtly.
OK. So.
Aziraphale bought the bookshop in the 1700s, up until then where did they hang out? I'm thinking they were using the various 'rendezvous points' anyway regardless, we know Crowley has a flat but we also know that hell has a sort of direct line to it.
Anywhere is very open and somewhere they can be watched. Celestials have materialized inside the car, on the street, in the flat, even on the TV. The only place they never seem to materialize? The bookshop. Even Metatron came in through the front door (when he isn't a floating head summoned through a portal). note it has no TV and no radio if I remember. The only time any demons have materialised is at the end when Gabriel got his memories back. I believe that's because the demons were "invited" in earlier on.
Here's my point. The bookshop is their safe place, it's THEIR space. Remember we don't see everything, we haven't seen everything. Every time we see them, they are in a public place, with someone watching or in the bookshop...with the curtains open. And remember, they KNOW when they're being watched.
Allow me to draw your attention to Season 2, Episode 1. Crowley is already on the way to the bookshop when Zira calls him, and when they meet in the coffee shop he is rather confused as to why they aren't in the bookshop. (Then of course we have the whole naked man friend fiasco and Crowley's reaction to that...)
When they do go to the bookshop I noticed Crowley DOES NOT EVEN QUESTION WHY ZIRA IS CLOSING THE BLINDS. He has no idea Gabriel is there, (he just knows something about a naked man, which is another conversation). Now this suggests to me that this is something that is done often.
They go into the bookshop and have their 'us time'.
This also helps this make sense:
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All lovers meetings would be in the bookshop. That was their space. Alone. Where no one was watching.
Now you may be thinking “We’ve seen them alone in the bookshop before when no one was watching and they weren’t behaving like a couple.” But someone was watching. WE were watching. And as we’ve established g-d only shows us what she wants us to see. She is telling the story.
I also think they have gotten so good at pretending in public that they have developed a code of sorts. For example, I think 'Breakfast/dinner at the Ritz' means something totally different.
They care for each other so deeply that they cannot stand putting each other in harms way.
They are celestial beings so their idea of love and relationships is something that is totally different and beyond the understanding of humans.
They saw Beelzebub and Gabriel be together openly in front of everyone and Zira grabbed Crowley’s arm. To me that is a very ‘familiar’ gesture. It’s saying ‘Look, they’re doing it. We can do that too.’ He then proceeds to look at Crowley with such loving adoration as if he cannot see any reason that they can’t be together openly and honestly.
Aziraphale then goes to coffee with Metatron whilst Crowley waits in the bookshop and tidies up. There is something strange about this. Throughout the time he is taking care of the bookshop whilst Zira is in Scotland, we see him chucking books all over the place. Even at the end we see him chuck a tray of food on the chair. So why is he tidying up now? – he tidies up because they are going to USE it.
He says, they are going to an ‘Extremely alcoholic breakfast at the Ritz.’ So if they are not going to be at the bookshop, why would it matter if Muriel is there or if it’s tidy? They do need US time. It’s a euphemism, it’s code. “Breakfast at the Ritz”, “I’ll give you a lift”, “Waiting inside”.
This is why it shocks Crowley so much when Nina thinks they’re a couple. They think they have been hiding it so well for a VERY long time and he can’t believe that someone has thought that for real. Yes we have all done it and been on the receiving end when someone thinks you’re a couple and you aren’t, it happens. But Nina just flat out refuses to believe that they’re not.
That is when Crowley goes to the winebar. Zira asks him why he isn’t ‘waiting inside’ “You like waiting inside.” As in “We never have a date in public, they can see us.” Then Crowley explains it’s because Jim is in the bookshop but in reality it’s probably partly because he’s realised that they haven’t hidden it as well as they thought they did, so they may as well sit there.
That reaction when Shax says to Zira, that hes not Crowley’s type? Seriously, that is a very much a “That’s what you think.” look.
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We are a group of the two of us and we’ve spent our existence pretending that we aren’t. – They really were pretending. He wasn’t talking about being in denial about their feelings for one another, he was literally saying they were PRETENDING not to be together. Now he wants everyone to know. He doesn't want to pretend anymore.
He thought Zira felt the same way until he told him about the whole 'going back to heaven' situation. Not sure how it would have gone if Crowley spoke first.
Aziraphale did not seem shocked by Crowley's confession. He already knows. What he doesn't understand is why he doesn't want to go to heaven.
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Zira still believes in the fundamental goodness of heaven because he has nothing to compare it to. Crowley has been on both sides and knows they are both as bad as each other “Life on earth would be just as dead, if heaven ended it.” That’s is why Crowley wants so stay on earth or go away with Zira.
Zira wants to go with Crowley to heaven because as others have pointed out, that’s where he believes they will have the best life and be able to be together. Crowley knows different, he was cast out into a pool of boiling sulphur just for asking questions. So he walks away and says ‘good luck’. Zira has not had the same experience of heaven Crowley has, Crowley has experienced the worst of the universe on both sides and can’t live like that anymore.
So "You can't leave this bookshop" yes, indeed, as we have established means "Don't leave US."
We could have been ‘US’. But Aziraphale won’t see it. So Crowley does the only thing he can think of and kiss the love of his entire existence. Whilst they are being watched. That is why Aziraphale says ‘I forgive you’. It isn’t just an ‘I love you’ it’s an ‘I forgive you for telling them our secret.’ I forgive you for trying to change my mind.
More in Part 3...
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claywriting · 4 months
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I can’t always be there to save you
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As the protagonst is heading back to the Gryffindor common room after spending her day in the library, she hears something not so strange during the year, the Cruciatus curse being used on a student, so she decides to do the stupidest thing that passes her mind, and take the side of the fellow student, challeging the Carrows.
"The corridors were cold in that October night, and she was wandering in them with a caution that was new to the students, running almost to the common room before the curfew start, to finish there her study session. Since the Carrow had taken the school under their wings everything has changed, and not for good. The corporal punishment that for so long was banned from the school has returned. The wandering was almost completed, but screams captured her attention. Cautiously she approached; the screams sounded like the ones of a wounded beast, the kind only the cruciatus hex can force a people to make. And she wasn't wrong; reversed on the side, on the cold floor a student was twisting himself unleashing those horrible screams"
I'm a non english writer so if yuo have any tips or comment I'll gladly appiciates.
thank you all
Part one
The corridors were cold in that October night, and she was wandering in them with a caution that was new to the students, running almost to the common room before the curfew start, to finish there her study session. Since the Carrow had taken the school under their wings everything has changed, and not for good. The corporal punishment that for so long was banned from the school has returned stronger than before, and the climate in the, once, secure corridors was no more the one that can be perceived in a home, but the one that she was expecting to feel in a haunted mansion.
The wandering was almost completed, she was not far from the room of requirement, and she knew that shelter there was a good option, but screams from a corridor not far captured her attention. Cautiously she approached the source of the sound, with a mixture of curiosity and fear; the screams sounded like the ones of a wounded beast, the kind of screams only the cruciatus hex can force a people to make. And in facts her guts weren’t wrong; reversed on the side, on the cold floor a student was twisting himself unleashing those horrible screams. When the men, the death eather let the malediction end she saw with horror the face of the boy on the ground. Neville, was a fellow Gryffindor, a year older than her, that she remembers during the years, but she has started to be his friend from the fourth year, when Ginny, that damn girl, pulled her in the DA. She remembered him to be a very timid guy, but in the last two year he had grew very tall and… something had changed in him. She inhaled sharply, and when the scum lifted the wand to cast another hex on the poor boy her vision became red, in a fraction of second her voice hecoed in the hall, "Depulso" she screamed, sending the man against the wall behind him. "Levicorpus" added with emphasis, with a rage she can’t explain, "Descendo!" Led the body of the, by now, unconscious man to slam into the ground. There she stood, the breath fast almost as she had run until there, slowing return to a normal peace; this time give the boy, Neville, the time to get up from the ground and coming near to her, as he was about to thanks her a muffled scream exit her mouth.
“I’m totally fucked!” she whispered to herself. “For merlin’s shorts, I’m so fucked.” The redness of the anger leaving her face, as she became as white as a ghost.
There they stood, in silence, unsure of what to do, until some of the, many, painting started screaming.
“Run, for the love of God, kids, run before someone finds you here.”
The boy, Neville, had a rush in his limbs, and as fast as the wounds allow him, gasped the wrist of the girl in front of him and flew in the direction of the room of the requirement. In silence they run, shaking softly and, until the silhouette of the door appears in front of them, they didn’t allow themselves to take a sigh of relief. Once they’re inside of the room there is a moment or two of utterly terrified silence, before she unleashes another muffled scream of terror, crouching on the ground with her hands on the eyes. There she stood for many seconds, the breath irregular, trying to calm herself, not wanting to start crying in front of the poor, easy to embarrass, boy. The silence, filled only with the sound of the shaky breathing was almost overwhelming, but when she lifted her face from the floor a new determination is now filling the, no more terrified, eyes of the girl; that stood up and went to find a potion table, to make some curative potion for Neville, who was still bleeding.
“You… shouldn’t have putted in danger for me.” a small chuckle leaves his mouth “I’m one of their favourite targets, you know? I’m getting used to handle it.”
A shake of the shoulders is what he obtains in response.
“Sorry to take away your title, dear. But I’m pretty sure that from tonight they’ll have a new favourite.” As saying those words, she smiles, and give away a funny static pose, as a model. A weird way to dissolve tension, for sure, but nonetheless a little grin incurves Neville bloody face.
“Ginny’s going to be surpassed then, she won’t be happy.”
“Of course, she won’t be, she always must be the first in all, that girl is insufferable,” a small laugh escapes her lips, as she distillates the green potion. “should learn to share. With so many brothers who would have thought that she isn’t used to.”
She turns around, with a little smile on her face, handing the poor boy a vial. “Tastes like shit.” announces proudly “But will make you as new as you can be.”
There is a second in which they look in the eyes for a bit too long, but then Neville lowers his face to drink the potion, and she moves her gaze in another direction, not wishing to see the face of the boy reabsorb the wounds and the black eyes that he was, almost proudly, exhibiting. Doing so she found a Rag and a bucket of water standing next to her, almost as the room wanted to suggest the idea to use them to remove the blood from his face.
“You truly were very brave out there;” He muffled after some time “not many would have done what you did.”
“As many would have said that I’ve been a reckless idiot. Including me.” Another shake of shoulders. “We know since we were little kids, I couldn’t let you there. And besides, I’m pretty sure you would have done the same for me. Wouldn’t you?”
Neville smiled, while his cheeks became red as any given second “Of course” he stuttered “I would have for any of my friends.”
She smiled “Perfect, so you don’t have to thank me for nothing, I’ve done what was right to do. Nothing more, and, if we want to add a reason,” she says getting closer to him. “I think your face looks prettier without being black from the beating from the Carrows, you know?”
A small smile roses on the lips of Neville, while his cheeks became even more red if possible, and she laughs softly.
“We should return on the common room.” Neville stutters, avoiding her gaze. “Maybe the room can provide us a safe route to get as close as possible to the entrance.” adds, as a corridor opens in front of them. A swing of the wands creates enough light to make them advance with fairly security.
As they immerge in the dark path; she, instinctively, put her hand on top of one of Neville’s, without saying a word, as if comfort is the thing she is looking for with that gesture. No sound is exchanged, outside of the regular breathing, and noises of the two of them walking, feet crashing on the ground. Neither of them, with their intertwined fingers keeping each other near firmly, didn’t even attempt to let go the hand of the other; almost as they were to scared of losing the other person that was worthy of trust. As if they were in this together and together, they will get out.
When, finally, the image of a door delineates in front of them a sigh of relief emergers from both of their mouths, at the same time, and their shoulders relax after what has seemed to be ages. Lightly Neville tried to retract his hand from the strong grip of the girl in front of him but find him unable to do so.
“Uhm…” he mutters, under his breath “I think we are safe, now.”
She stood there for a second or two, listening to the sounds in the hall, her back as rigid as he never saw it, scared, perhaps. She brough a finger to her lips intimating silence as she approached the door, and leaning a ear against it, now listening carefully to any sound.
“I think we are safe Longbottom;” she whispers, cautiously, looking in his direction in the dimness, her big eyes wide open, her hands still trembling feebly. “one of us should go first, so, even if things go to hell we wont end both in detention.”
Neville nodded, silent, but then he goes on.
“I’ll go first, you already put yourself in danger this night to help me, it’s the least I can do to return the favour.” he hesitates for a second “Is it alright for you?”
She, once again, shook her shoulders; clearly more worried for the short distance that, she hopes, separate them from the Fat Lady painting, than for who should go first.
“Just, be careful,” it’s the first shaky words that leaves her mouth but then, he cocky smile that she used to wear as an armour since he get to know her blossom on her lips, and she continues “I can’t always be there to save you, can’t I?”
A small laugh leaves Nevilles lips as he puts his hand on the handle of the door. “Sadly, I would say.”
Without looking at her astonished face he goes out of the door, in the hall, loosing by doing so the rare image of the cheeks, and ears too, of the girl tinted of red. Afterward he went out she waited for a minute or two before emerging herself from the door, the well known hall in front of her calming her aching heart, knowing that the common room was just after the corners, she was already foretasting the good night of sleep she would have knowing she did help, when a hand poses on her shoulder, stopping her in the middle of the hall. A small cuss left her lips.
“There she is the little bastard who attacked one of the professors; like a coward, from his back.”
She stood petrified listening to the voice of Alecto in her hear. “C’mon miss, I think we have a long night that wait for us. We’ll have a lot of fun, and, fear not, my brother is fine after your little prank, so he will join us.”
Some sons of a bitch must have seen her, and, of course, the voices arrived to the Carrow before she can retract in the common room. Her usual luck; looking in another direction.
The woman, with a hand with a hand firmly on her shoulder conduced her away from her safe space, and, as she looked above her shoulder, the only relieving is don’t see any traces of Neville.
Part two
Neville entered in the common room like a fury, as he was chased from some of his worst demons, Piton that would be, and, once inside, he rested his back against the wall, under the shocked looks of his friends. Ginny, as always the fastest, was at his side in a mere second, putting a hand on his shoulder.
“Are you okay? Why are you so late, the curfew started half an hour ago, you dumbass!” she smacked him in the back of his head “Did you want to have the Carrow punish you?”
The boy takes the hit without even flinching, his mouth left semi open because of the heavy breath. He stayed silent for some minutes and then, he revolted a worried look to the door, ignoring Ginny as she looked at him in disbelief. “She should be here by now. Why is she taking so much time” he muttered, his voice very worried.
“Who should be here?” Ginny asked, Seamus approaching as well.
“Y/n” he answered looking firmly at the door.
“L/n?” asked the two, in unison.
“Yes, she… she saw Amycus picking on me in the hall and, you should have seen her, she flew him into the wall, and then smacked him into the floor.” He lets out a small sigh “I don’t know if she learned that from Harry but was brilliant.”
Ginny moved his look on the door, now worrying for her friend.
“If someone has seen her doing something so stupidly brave, she is in so much trouble right now…” murmured, receiving a nod of approval from both boys.
Is easy to say that the girl didn’t return to the common room that night, Neville was sure about it, having spent the night on the sofa of the common room waiting for her, eventually falling asleep in front of the fire. The next morning waking up still on the sofa, with the worried look of Ginny make his spirit descend till the potion classroom. He tried to make is day go on as normal, trying to keep a low profile, but when in the evening him and Ginny didn’t find her in the common room panic start to grow in his stomach. The girl was absent because she exposed herself to protect him, Neville was sure of this, knowing that if she had being punished for being surprised outside the common room after the curfew she would be already came back. That night was spent insomniac by the poor boy who cannot even control his brain, leaving him to remember every interaction he had in the last four years with that girl with gentle eyes.
He thought over and over about that time in which, once again, she tokens his defences, in fourth year, when she, only thirteen years old, stepped in a hall while Cobble was pushing him in a corner. She, with sure footedness, approached them pretending to know what was happening there. Cobble, strong of his big body and dumb mind pushed her too, making her take some steps back; but then she dusted her skirt and in a second slammed the huge book she had under arm into the nose of the bully, making him fell over, as she looked at him; standing proud. After what was a brilliant, at least for Neville, Ginny and Ron, demonstration of pure power she moved her eyes on the bullied boy and give him the warmest of smile. “Are you okay?” Neville was sure, that first time would have been fire-branded in his head. Many where the times after that in which the girl helped him, and stood at his side, making the bullies, and even their friends, walk on the eggs, knowing that being rude to Neville would make her step in the middle; no one wanted to anger the girl with the quick tongue and no regards for their feelings. She was for sure a protector for her friends, and, in general, for everyone who she saw weak. She defended everyone, sooner or later, still having a clear soft spot for Neville. He always thought that the reason would have been because she think he was pathetic, and so during the DA she always offered herself to spar with him, and he knew she held herself, but he didn’t minded. Ginny many times assured him that she was one of the witches most gentle she knew, and he understood that she didn’t hold back for pity, but because he couldn’t have learned always with his ass on the ground.
Many memories held the boy awake during that night, hoping that the next day the girl would have been back.
But another day passed, and of her, no trace.
At this point Neville was in a panic so dramatic that at the end of the lessons he waits for Ginny and drag her to the office of the professor McGonagall, storming inside her office like a fury, or more, a desperate bird who crashes onto the bars of his cage.
“The Carrow, professor” he almost screams as the poor, tired woman which tries to make him lower his voice. “They have y/n”
The professor lifts an eyebrow. “I… Longbottom, I’m sorry but since the start of the year they have token the students for their… personal punishment” the woman sigh “I can’t do anything about it. I’m sure that in a few hours miss L/n will be back in the common room.”
Ginny shakes her head “She is gone for two days” and, without waiting for an invite, the girl starts narrating what has happened some nights before. As she goes on and on the eyebrows of the professor McGonagall lowered more and more, meanwhile Neville sat on a chair with his head on his hands, the fingers sunk in the hair, lightly shaking.
“This is very, very serious. The poor girl must be wary and tired. You two run to Madam Pomfrey and make her give you some potions for her wounds, I’ll go talk to the Carrows.” She announces, rising from her spot, to take the door, looking like a fury, and nothing like the calm professor that Ginny and Neville learned to knew in years.
The run for the infirmary was desperate for Neville, left alone from Ginny who went to the great hall to take something to eat both for her friend and Neville, which was fasting since the night before.
If the run has been terrifying to Neville the worst part was just beginning, another night awake, on the couch of his common room waiting for the girl that has saved him, perhaps for the last time. He couldn’t make the imagine of his parents in the vests of San Mungo’s, unable to recognize him, out of his head. His brain was invaded from all the memories of every smile she landed to him, and then her face overlapped to his mother’s, with the same confused expression and empty eyes. The lump in his throat making difficult for him to breath.
It is only after all the Gryffindor has returned to the common room that is heard a small knock on the painting of the Fat Lady, and, as she opened, all the people in the common room covered the eyes to the smallest kids present there. In front of them, supported by both of the Carrow was y/n, covered in blood, her hair tangled in knots and dried blood, her feet unable to support her were dragged on the floor abandoned, and her arms, always so strong, let loose, as she was unconscious.
Without any further ceremony the two siblings let her fell into the ground at the beginning of the passage to enter in the common room.
“Let this be a lesson to you all.” They only say, before turning on themselves and vanish in the black of the halls in the night.
As the two vanished, Neville, beating even Ginny, flew himself out of the common room kneeling near the girl reverse on the floor, and, with tenderness, lifting her up, as some fourth years makes the smaller kids, first and second years go to their room, to not witness the terrifying image in front of them. With gentleness, almost as he was afraid of broken her, Neville put the girl on the sofa, in front of the fire, looking at her trembling so slightly. Ginny, by his side, already was taking out the potions Madam Pomfrey had given them, and, trembling as well, pouring slowly in her friend’s mouth. Moments of silence make the whole room keep the breath, until a small cough came from the girl unconscious on the sofa, and the wound starts to vanish. But were not the wound of the body who worried Neville making him almost puke bile, but the wound of the sprit, terrified of losing another person to the insanity that the cruciatus can cause if used too much, for too much time on a single person. There he stood, kneeled near the sofa with the hands of the girl in his, waiting for a response, for her to open her gentle eyes and look at him. Looking at her covered in bruises and blood was sickening, but there he stayed, even after all the other went to bed. And slowly he fell asleep, sat on the floor with the head to rest on the sofa, near her waist.
A hand passing between his hair is what wakes him in the morning, or, since the black is still outside il still night. He lifted his head confused, asking why someone would wake him up, why is so uncomfortable, and in front of him a pair of very gentle eyes looking at him is what wakes him up definitely.
“I told you; you are cuter without the face black from the Carrow.” Jokes the girl weakly, passing her hand on his hair, whit tenderness. “I’m happy you came back safe.” She then added, with scratchy voice.
Neville almost cried “You are the most reckless idiot I’ve ever seen. You had it ten time worse than me, and for what?”
Again, se let go a weak laugh “For what? Neville, for you, dumbass. I’ve looked out for you since I was thirteen. You can’t really think I would just be stood there as that son of a bitch tortures you.” Her hand moves from his hair to his cheek “You are the most amazing Gryffindor I know, Bloody hell, the most amazing person” she coughs a few times “I will always look out for you, whether you want it or no. I owe it to you. And I know you don’t need me anymore, perhaps you never did, but I don’t want to leave you alone, I never will.”
The smile on her lips weak lips made Neville almost lose it, he bit his lip and looked away for a second or two, to recompose himself. But when he glanced at her, seeing the girl bruised and covered in her own blood his barriers collapsed, without thinking he launched himself on her, hugging her with as many forces as he could, even forgetting to be careful to not hurt her. She didn’t complain, as he can remember she never did, always as steady as a rock in the middle of a hurricane, nothing ever make her complain, nor the Umbridge, nor the hits of the bludgers during the quidditch matches, and now even the Carrow. She slowly drags him on the sofa, with her, and there they stood, him caressing her hair, slowly and humming an old song his grandma used to sing to him in the nights of tempest, and eventually fell asleep, hugging tightly.
When, the morning after Ginny finds them on the sofa a light grin appeared on her face, smacking Neville lightly on the head to wake him up. The boy, rose, confused.
“So?” asked Ginny with a smirk “did you sleep well with your girlfriend?”
A small laugh, held back to not wake the subject of the conversation, left the lips of Neville.
“She is not my girlfriend. I’m pretty sure se sees me as a… good friend. Someone to take care of, at the most”
Ginny’s face almost fell on the floor.
“Are you idiot? Yes?” she didn’t await for an answer. “I think you should tell her that, if you only see her as a friend, I mean.”
Neville shot her a confused look.
“Only love makes someone that crazy Nev. And, if I reckon correctly se collect detention since her third year to protect you. That is a lot of love, if you ask me, and” and she darted a look at her “a lot of points from our house.”
She shakes her shoulders.
“I’ll let the professors know you are sick today, use this time to… I don’t know, make whatever there is between the two of you clear. We would use some love to cheer us up.”
She left, and slowly every other Gryffindor rose and left the common room, leaving Neville and Y/n alone in there. She still sleeping and, even if he needed a shower, he can’t force himself to leave her side, worried that she would wake up and have the terrible idea to go to a somewhere.
Around the half of the morning a house elf delivered to them something to eat, and when finally, the girl woke up they agree to take a shower, put on some comfy clothes and meet by the sofa to have breakfast together. And so, they did.
The silence filling the room, except for the fire dancing in the fireplace, the idea to break it to make whatever there is clear as Ginny has said make the knees of Neville feels like jelly. But, in the end, he forces himself to do it.
“Y/n” he called softly, gaining from the girl a curious look “I… do have a question for you”.
She nodded, gulping the piece of bread she was eating, so, he continued.
“Do… why…” he sighs passing a hand on his eyes “Ginny says…”
“Ginny is right” she cut short. Extending her legs to the fireplace, while moving towards him, and tanking his hand in hers. “I told you last night, I will always have your back, Neville. I… I don’t think you remember, but me and Ginny where friends from the first year, and when she vanished, you were the one who consoled me. In my second year when Black evaded and I was terrified you were the one who was sleeping next to me, and you comforted me, once again. You… always make me feel save, when I was terrified, in my third year, I don’t know if you remember but I was next to you when… Harry came back with Cedric. I was so shocked, but when I grasped at your hand you didn’t move it, once again you were my rock. And every year, when something terrifying happened you are always next to me, making me calm.” She laughs softly “You are my rock, always has been even if you didn’t know.”
Nevilles face fell. Never would have imagined that the girl that he associated with the word Bravery considered him her rock. Even in his wildest dreams, the ones in which he finds the courage to confess to her, she accepts his love and to take care of him, discovery that she sees him as the one that takes care of her was the most unexpected thing.
“You… are kidding me” he exhales “you are the bravest witch in this school, one of the best duellists I’ve ever seen, you punched Cabble at thirteen and, and defended me from the bullies so many times. I always seen in you the rock of my life. You were always the one that defended me. You were the powerful, brilliant, beautiful one Y/n!” Almost hysterically he passed a hand in his hair, confused, amazed by the situation. “You are the most incredible witch that Hogwarts has ever seen, and… and I’m every day happy to know you consider me one of your friends. But… Bloody hell. I’m mad for you since, I don’t know, fourth year? Fifth? I don’t need to know if you reciprocate, it’s okay to just be your friend, but… please don’t make me worry like this no more, I’m not sure I can take it.”
As one of his worst nightmares she lets go a laugh, but it ends very shortly after.
“I love you Longbottom, since I can remember.” She shook her head “Hell, I was waiting for this for years.” She laughs again moving closer to him, actually, almost jumping into him, to kiss him with fierce passion; forgetting all that waits for them outside the common room. Their hands travelled on their body, caressing, hugging desperate to find some peace, to lower some burdens from their hearts, because, in the end, they were only two kids in the middle of a war.
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