#but what link’s feelings must be like. someone who hurt you so much and turned your life upside down but also tried so hard to save you

[bluesidez]

GymRat!Miguel Part 9.1 | full chapter without breaks on AO3

content warning: lots of music links, ROADTRIP!!, some hurt/comfort at the beginning, a damn near comedy if I must say so myself, Spanish parts (if wrong, please correct me), lots of fluff, Buc-ee's shenanigans (I love that store), Miguel drives a Range Rover (hot, I know. Tyler got that MUNYUN), some jealous Miguel (MY FAVORITE), a hint of jealous reader 🫨 (she has a storm coming lol), simp Miguel if I'm being honest, 18+ so MNDI, male masturbation, wet wet fantasies, both reader and Miguel are h word for each other

word count: 7.1k, damn near proofread (this is only one part of the behemoth)

I did some research on MLE, yachts, superyachts, dolphins, and water activities for this chapter. 🤠 Hopefully, it shows! The yacht size I imagined is somewhere in between a regular yacht and a superyacht/megayacht. I built a Range Rover just for GR!Miguel you guys. (thanks to my irl besties and @slushycoookie once again 🥰)

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GymRat!Miguel who comes back home after nearly a week of bliss with you. He floated all the way home from dropping you off with Tyler’s people.

He made them wait much longer than they needed to when he decided to makeout with you next to the black Suburban. 

Only a few more weeks before he could see you again. 

GymRat!Miguel who is met with his mom sitting on the couch with just the tv glowing on her. 

His steps were too heavy to sneak past her, so he just sighed and settled down on one of the plush chairs. 

“I see you’re home,” she says. Her eyes don’t move from the Golden Girls episode playing softly. 

“Sí, mamá.”

“How come you didn’t tell me where you went?”

“Gabriel told you where I was. I’m sure you asked him.” Miguel was tired already. 

“He did, pero eso no fue lo que te pregunté.” (but that’s not what I asked you)

“Ma-”

“Mijo.”

“You’re not even looking at me.”

“And you’ve sat so far away. Like I’m going to hurt you. Miguel, I asked you to come home. You didn’t respond. You didn’t call. You didn’t even speak to me when you came back a few days ago.”

Miguel stared at her face, willing himself not to get emotional over this. 

“I acknowledge that I should have let you know where I was. I didn’t talk to you because I didn’t want to say something I would regret.”

Conchata finally turned to look at Miguel. Her first-born. The life given to her after so much turmoil. 

She could still see the little boy that would cry at the drop of a hat. She could still see the little boy that would dry up his tears if Gabriel started to cry with him, just to comfort him. The little boy with so much room in his heart. 

She can see him now, face ridden with sadness. A face that she knew too well. 

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, mijo.”

“Well, you did. Again. I’m used to it. This isn’t a new feeling. What is new, is you acting like this towards someone else close to me.”

“I-”

“Let me finish, ma, please. You’ve never been a parent that cares about how I’ve felt in regards to anything. You have made decisions for me without a second thought without ever considering how I might feel. You’ve also never been the type of person who hurts someone else for no reason. I’m sorry I’m not with someone you picked, but I’m not sorry for loving her. She is everything to me. If I were to fall, there’s no doubt in my mind that she would be there to build me back up. She’d probably even break my fall if I couldn’t stop her.” 

Miguel stopped to look up, willing himself not to cry. 

“What you said to her brought something out that she hasn’t felt in a while. You broke her in a way that I promised myself I never would. I wanted to present her to my family in a positive light, to show her off. I didn’t expect you to be ecstatic about her, but I did hope that you could at least open your heart up once you met her.”

He looked off, tears escaping from his eyes. You’re in a better position now, but he won’t know if that donner will creep back up on you, making you hate yourself for something that’s not your fault. He remembered the pain in your voice, how kept it in until you were with him and away from the manor. He hated it. 

“But instead, she was met with two people who paid her no respect. Two people that brought her turmoil. I expected Kron to be horrible, look at how he talked to you, but not you. You were supposed to be better. You didn’t see how much you hurt her, I did. It’s like we prepped for nothing but a shitshow and I should have followed my gut and kept her to myself a little longer.”

Miguel sniffed, wiping at his nose in hopes that it would stop the urge to cry. 

Conchata let the silence rest. Nothing but the TV and her son’s sniffles filled the room. 

“I’m sorry, Miguel.”

Miguel turned back. Shocked that she didn’t put up much of a fight. 

“I just,” she paused. “There’s no excuse for how I treated her. She didn’t deserve it and if I could go back and change my behavior, I would. I think that I was just overwhelmed. Upset because my baby is growing up. He’s moving on and I can’t hold him in my hands anymore. I don’t tuck him in anymore. I don’t have to check under his bed for monsters. He doesn’t need me to do anything. So this shift is hurting me, mijo, and I took it out on the wrong people. For that, I’m so sorry.”

Conchata was a hard-cased woman. She stuck with her opinions, even if they were blatantly wrong. She was proud and vocal. She never let people see her crack or fall under pressure. So, seeing her like this, begging for Miguel to understand her, was a rare moment for Miguel. 

“Ma, me growing up doesn’t stop me from being your son. I’m still here. I’ll still rely on you, but I want you to have a break too. You have to let me grow. I won’t live here forever, but that doesn’t mean I won’t come back to you. I’m glad you were able to express this to me, I just wish you could have said so sooner.”

“Lo siento, mijo.”

Miguel got up to get closer to her. He wrapped her up in his arms, too easy to forgive her. “It’s ok.”

He leans back and kisses her forehead, heart mending by the smallest of stitches. “You still have to apologize to my girlfriend, though.”

“I will when I see her again.”

“And we need to go to therapy.”

“George has already told me.”

“And I want you to make me some ceviche. And tamales.”

“Bueno.”

“And tres leches.” 

She sighed, but squeezed him tighter. “Don’t curse in front of me again, and I’ll consider it.”

“Gracias, mamá.”

“De nada, mijo.”

GymRat!Miguel who goes to sleep with his body feeling a lot lighter. The weight of his relationship with his mom lifted a little off his shoulders.

GymRat!Miguel who has two grand master plans that he’s been setting out for months: eating you out and making your first time together special. 

He’s been overthinking every detail like a maniac. The peaches from the fruit bowl have been disappearing to his room for research purposes only- and a snack of course. 

He once ended up on the girl side of Tik Tok where they complain about everything guys get wrong when pleasuring them. He had been thoroughly reading the comments and taking notes here and there. He didn’t really need the tip about making noise though, he already does that just thinking about you. So many times has he had to stuff his mouth when jerking off. 

He also had a few tabs open in incognito mode. That research is only done in the deep of the night. 

Right now, he’s sitting at his desk reading some article about listening to your partner’s body and his mind can’t help but to wander off. Will you grip your thighs around him? He hopes so. He could die that way. Will you be vocal? Will you tell him if it’s too much? Will you guide his head and pull his hair? 

That last question has him gripping his sweats in anticipation. No doubt when you scratched at his back in the hotel room, he was reeling from the sensation. It was like a reward for him whenever you feel so good, you’re too unaware of what you’re doing to him physically. Too lost in bliss to register the marks and pain you’re leaving on him. You just want him to give you more. 

Miguel drops his pen and pushes the heel of his palm on his growing bulge. 

“Fuck.” Every time about an hour or so into researching, his head is full of you. He imagines what it’ll be like to finally taste you, to be inside you. 

He remembered how wet you got with just a little rubbing. Your body was so responsive to his movements and he couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen if you guys upped the foreplay. 

Miguel leaned back in his chair, arm over his head. He dropped his hand in his sweats hand gripping at the base of his erection, exhaling deep as he gave it a few pumps. 

Your hands on his chest. Your arms around his neck. Your nails scraping his back. Your thighs wrapping around his waist. Your breath on his lips. 

You opening up for him. You dripping down his fingers, down his legs, down his face. You screaming out his name loud enough for the entire neighborhood to file a complaint. You in whatever position he puts you in. He could hold you up. Maybe have your legs in the air or stretched out on the bed. He could have you grabbing for the sheets, the headboard, him. His head in your chest, in your pussy, in your ass. 

Pre-cum spilled onto his stomach, rolling down his shaft. Would you let him go that far?

He doesn’t know what’s worse, the cold showers and teeth-marked arms at the beginning of the relationship or his constant daydreams of your body connecting with his that kept occurring regularly. 

Maybe you felt the same way too. That was a new thought. 

Do you wonder about your first time together? Were you just as excited as him? Do you get wet at the thought of him inside of you? Do you have to stop everything and find pleasure like he does? Were your fingers enough or did you need more?

Miguel continued to move his hand up and down, squeezing occasionally to mimic what you might feel like. 

He’s groaning into his elbow, hips lifting from his desk chair. 

He could almost hear your voice in his ear. Begging, praising, crying out, stuttering. 

GymRat!Miguel who cums as Gabriel slams through the door. In a matter of 15 seconds, Miguel covers his drenched chest, shoves his sensitive dick back down, and grabs napkins to try to wipe away at his hand. 

Nevermind his shirt is now ruined. 

“What the fuck are you looking at and why is this picture showing a seductive pomegranate?”

“Why the fuck are you opening my door without knocking?”

“I did knock! I did our special knock plus a freestyle! I thought you were dead, Miguelito.”

Miguel’s heart felt a little tug despite its rapid tempo, “’M not dead, Gabri. Just busy. I didn’t hear you.”

Gabriel snickered when he got closer to look at his laptop. “I can see why. These tabs are a dead giveaway.” 

Gabriel reached over to stare at Miguel’s notebook. 

“These are some good tips! You shouldn’t expect her to taste like sweets, though.”

Nothing in his notes indicated that, but Miguel wanted to be offended for you anyway. 

Miguel gave Gabriel a hard side eye, mouth set deeply down. 

“I really wish you would get out of my room.”

“Oo, you should buy a rose. Dana loves that thing.”

“I don’t want to hear about whatever freaky shit you and Dana get up to, Gabriel.”

“You’ve caught me in more embarrassing situations, I’m just trying to lighten the mood! I also suggest those candy panties-”

“I’m not putting candy on- Gabriel. Can you please stop talking to me?”

“Miguel, this stuff is important!”

“¿Por qué eres así?” Miguel mumbled. “Ok, yeah. I get it. But you can chat to me about this after I’ve switched shirts.” (Why are you like this?)

“Fine, I’ll come back. Ten minutes. Then we must have a healthy chat about how to have fun safely.”

Gabriel skipped back to the door singing Candy loud enough to be heard as he went back to his own room. 

“Strawberry! Raspberry! All those good things! Violets and gumdrops that’s what you’re saying to me, me, me.”

A black hole would be nice to save himself from this situation. 

GymRat!Miguel who jumps out of his bed the day of the “Yacht Weekend.” Gabriel is dead set on calling it the “Yachty Pawty” and Miguel thinks that’s unbelievably stupid. 

GymRat!Miguel who has to go and pull Gabriel out of his bed to get him to get ready, his body stretching like a ferret. He’s never been a morning person. It’s like his brain didn’t start computing until noon. 

GymRat!Miguel who jogs around the neighborhood to kill time. The weather is a lot cooler in the morning plus it gives Gabriel time to come to reality. He waves to the son of one of his neighbors who gawks at him as he passes by. 

Were his shorts giving away too much again? He didn’t feel a draft. 

He looked down at his crotch. All good. 

GymRat!Miguel who calls you while he stops to take a water break. 

“Amor!” His voice is bright and his smile is radiant, watching as you squint at the screen.

Your cheek is squished against the pillow and you’re wrapped up in your covers. 

“Hey, Miggy. It’s so bright there.”

Your voice was scratchy, a sign of how deep in sleep you were. You were so fucking cute. 

“Are you running?”

He placed his phone on a nearby bench so he could stretch. “Yeah, I’m taking a break.”

He went into a deep lunge, stretching his body low to the ground. 

You went quiet for so long, Miguel thought the call dropped. 

“Baby? Did you go back to sleep?” Miguel asked.

“No, I’m still here. Those pants are,” you started to shuffle your phone. “Really short.”

“Really?” Miguel stood up and looked down at his pants. They did cut off high up his thighs, but they were good for running. Plus, he got hot easily, so he needed as much wind on his skin as possible. “They’re comfy.”

“Mm hm. Can you turn around for me?”

Miguel turned, confused but willing. 

“Got it. Thank you, my muscle bear!”

“What did you just do?”

“Took pictures of your ass. It looks great. I’m gonna hold it real good later.”

Miguel laughed and grabbed his phone. 

“Can I hold yours, too?” He wanted to do way more than hold it. 

You smile sleepily at the camera. “I’ll think about it.”

GymRat!Miguel who lets you stay on the phone while he runs back to the house. 

“You’re just going to hear the wind and me breathing for a few minutes.”

“And I’m fine with that! It’s like boyfriend ASMR. Peaceful.”

GymRat!Miguel who ruffles Gabriel’s hair when he gets back home. He’s staring at the wall and shoveling cereal in his mouth at the slowest pace known to man. 

“Buenos días, hermanito!” (Good morning, little brother)

“Mm.”

GymRat!Miguel who takes a cold shower to cool off for once and not because he’s having explicit thoughts of you. 

GymRat!Miguel who chugs down a protein smoothie while he waits for Gabriel to come downstairs. 

GymRat!Miguel who answers the door to Dana. She’s got some shades on and a purse with the same texture as a croc. 

She peers over her shades. “You’re looking put together!”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Don’t play dumb. You’re trying to impress your girl! What do you have planned? A dinner on the horizon? A spa date? Oh! No! Another shopping spree?l

Yes. No, but he should arrange that. And absolutely not. He’s not Tyler. 

“No,” Miguel squints. “But how can you tell?”

“You’re easy to read, big guy. Even when you think about her your eyes turn into hearts. When have you ever thought to wear a button down for a roadtrip to the beach?”

“Touche.”

“I’ll figure out what you’re up to. I have my ways.”

She twirls and runs up to Gabriel’s room, leaving a waft of strong perfume after her. 

With that, Miguel knew it would be at least another 45 minutes before he could get on the road. 

GymRat!Miguel who does his special knock on Gabriel’s door. 

“I’m opening it, so you fiends better have your clothes on.”

He swung the door open to the disheveled couple. Dana with her hair astray and Gabriel breathing eerily hard. 

“Seriously, guys? I need to go by the airport.”

“I was just waking him up!” Dana says with a voice that was much hoarser than it was an hour ago. 

“Well,” Miguel put a hand on his hip in a way that anyone could tell he was Conchata O’Hara’s son. “Are you awake, Gabri?”

Gabriel’s face was as red as a tomato as he shook his head no. 

Miguel pitched his voice higher to mimic his brother. “Ten minutes. And then we can have a conversation on time management and respect. Except it won’t be “safely” because I’m going to hurt you.”

GymRat!Miguel who finally backs out of the driveway in exactly ten minutes. Gabriel is rubbing his arm in the passenger seat with a pout on his face. Dana is grinning from ear to ear. 

GymRat!Miguel who hands Gabriel the aux. He might be a silly boy, but his music taste is immaculate.

GymRat!Miguel who almost has to hurt Gabriel again when he doesn’t want to get out of the passenger seat. 

“Why do I have to move?”

“Because I said so.”

“That’s not grounds for anything!”

Dana pokes her head over the console. “Gabie. Read the room. He wants to grip on to his girl while he drives with one hand. Show off.” 

GymRat!Miguel who kisses you and grabs your bags at the same time when he sees you. The cars around are loud, honking sporadically. People are walking and running to catch cabs or get to their loved ones. Workers are trying to direct the traffic. 

It all quiets down when he meets your eyes. 

“Hola, mi amor.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and bring him close. “Hello to you too, my love.”

You smile up until he presses his lips against yours. More and more pecks follow after that. 

He holds his nose to yours, completely enraptured by your presence. 

“Oh my god, let’s go!” Gabriel shouts from the car, pressing his palm against the steering wheel. 

“You’re not the one driving, pinche pendejo!”

You giggle and stand on your tippy toes to try and see over Miguel’s shoulder. You’re still too short so you lean sideways. Miguel melts. 

“Just a few more and we’ll be done Gabriel!”

“Fine. For you, I’ll let it slide.”

You stand back up straight and kiss Miguel a little more. 

GymRat!Miguel who does reach over and grip your thigh. If Gabriella and Troy weren’t in the back belting, he’d hike his hand up further. 

“Right now I can hardly breathe!” Gabriel pivots his head towards Dana dramatically, water bottle a faux mic. 

“Oh! You can do it, just know that I believe.” Dana is touching his chest dramatically. 

“Are they always like this?” You ask, laughing a little at their antics. 

Miguel groans in annoyance. “Yes.”

GymRat!Miguel who nearly sprints out the car when he parks by a pump. He’s been riding for a bit and he needs to stretch his legs. 

“Miggy, you want something from the store?” 

You’re standing next to the car, the wind blowing your hair back. Your jacket blows away a little, showing off the tight little outfit you’re sporting. You’re beautiful. 

He wants to break you down in the front seat of his car.

He swallows the thought. “I’ll come in there soon, don’t worry.”

You walk in the giant gas station and head immediately to the Icee machines. For the best possible experience, you should wait until it’s time to go before buying it. 

As you’re walking along the wall wondering what flavor you should get, you feel a tug at your arm. 

You turn to see Dana with some bottles in her hand. 

“I don’t know what he’s planning, but trust me when I say, you should take these.”

You frown as you take the cranberry juice. “Um.”

“I’ve been around those two long enough to know when one of them is up to something. I mean Gabriel hasn’t said anything off, but look at how he’s bopping around the store.”

You turn and look. 

He is indeed bouncing more than usual. He’s so tall that if he puts even more pep in his step, he might just break a hole in the ceiling. 

“Ok,” you turn back to Dana while fighting a laugh. “So they are planning something. What does that have to do with me and cranberry juice?”

“Gabie tries his best to use bro code, but I quite literally suck the information out of him sometimes. He caught Miguel looking at lots of articles about pleasuring his partner. With his mouth. That’s all I know for now.”

Your heart picks up. He was still going on about that?

“That might just be a coincidence.” 

“He’s wearing damn near beach attire with his hair styled. He held onto your thigh for an hour, even when the turns got tough. He stared at you walking into the store even until he couldn’t see you anymore.”

You bit your lip. “Those last two things are standard Miguel behavior.”

Dana huffs and spins you around. 

Across the store, you could see Miguel and Gabriel huddled over something. Miguel with his eyes focused and Gabriel animatedly explaining something. Every once in a while, Miguel would nod and roll his eyes up as if he was mentally checking on something. 

You sigh and turn back around. 

“Do they sell pineapples too?”

GymRat!Miguel who looms over you while you and Dana are looking at some cakes. You look up at him, pressing your head against his chest. 

Miguel kissed your forehead when you beamed at him. 

He looked over to Gabriel who was also crowding Dana and shouted, “¡Vamos!”

In a matter of seconds, Miguel had lifted you and brought you to the middle of the store where the workers were cooking up fresh meat. 

You squeal in shock and laugh on the way over. Miguel’s not even struggling. 

Gabriel on the other hand huffs as he places Dana down. 

“You need to work on that, babe.”

“I can lift you when I want to!” Gabriel replies, petulant. 

“For like one minute maybe. Why don’t you start working out with Miguel?”

“No thanks.” They both said in unison, almost carbon copies of each other. 

Really, if Miguel didn’t work out, or if Gabriel did for about a year, they could definitely play off as twins. Only subtle things separating them, like Gabriel’s freckles, softer face, and slightly shorter height and Miguel’s less curly hair, thicker eyebrows, and deeper voice. 

In your eyes, their bond was precious. You wondered what their baby pictures looked like. 

“You guys are so cute,” you say, reaching up to squeeze both of their cheeks. 

They both melt the same way in your hands. Miguel’s face is only a little bit hotter against your palm. 

GymRat!Miguel who presses up against you while you both check out. You stay nonchalant and talk to the cashier like normal, but you could feel Miguel’s heartbeat through your thin romper. 

Every breath he took molded on your skin, his chest rising and falling against your head. 

He kept steady hands on your hips and waist, only moving them to pay for your snacks. 

The cashier would take not-so-subtle breaks to stare up at him, face getting redder after each glance. 

You could only think “me too, girl.”

He really did look good today. His shirt was open a little lower than normal, his shorts loose but tightening around his thighs with every step he took. His hair was slicked back with a few strands falling loose and shades sat perfectly on top of his head. A chain danced around his neck, the color glowing on his pretty skin. He was tanner than usual, the sun making him glow after so many morning runs. 

To top it off he smelled really good. You wanted to lick him. 

From how slow the cashier was moving, you knew she was ready to take a lick too. 

You took moments like this in stride. Especially when Miguel was pressed so hard against you, you could feel his dick at the small of your back. 

Still, when people still tried to hit on your boyfriend or gawked at him even when you caught them, it was hard not feel frustrated about others thinking he can be taken from you. Or just ignoring you. 

More often than not, Miguel would bring you back down to earth with some action to let others know that he’s taken. 

Today, it was a kiss to your neck and a smack to your ass followed by his hand rubbing circles in the same spot. 

He grabbed the bags in one hand and your hip in the other. 

You looked back to the cashier scanning the next customer far more aggressively than before.  

GymRat!Miguel who eats half of his sandwich before starting the car back up. 

You still place the other half in front of his mouth, feeding him occasionally. 

He just smiles before and after each bite. Giddy with attention. You wipe his mouth to stop sauce from spilling from his shirt. 

Miguel almost turns the car into turbo drive. 

GymRat!Miguel who finally makes it to the beach an hour or so later. It’s late Thursday afternoon, so the sun is still shining bright. 

Gabriel is excited to finally be free from the tight back seat so he uses the opportunity to blast music from Miguel’s stereo. 

“C’mon, Dana! Dance with me,” Gabriel said, pulling her out of the back seat and bringing her to the front of the var. “Let’s have a twerk-off.”

You can’t stop the laugh that spills out of your mouth. You couldn’t imagine either of them shaking anything. 

“I can not twerk and you know it!”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t shake. Don’t be shy now!”

You and Miguel get out of the car to stretch, Miguel watching the two over the hood of the car, unphased. 

Gabriel turns to you with a glint in his eyes. “Can you twerk?”

You were ready to shake your ass on a yacht after some liquid courage, but you didn’t mind a little dancing beforehand. 

You hurried to the front before the song was over and put your hands on the hood. You bend over with an arch in your back and move your ass to the beat of the song. 

You hear Gabriel shout, “Oh shit! Go, go, go!”

Dana sprints, nearly bulldozing Gabriel to stand behind you and catch it. You laugh at the two and bend even deeper, encouraged by their cheers. 

GymRat!Miguel whose eyes nearly pop out of his head when you bend over. 

When did you learn how to do that?

He’s stunned for a second until he reaches inside the car and turns the radio off. He’s going to kill Gabriel. 

Miguel hurries to the front and picks Dana up by her armpits to move her aside. “You guys are wasting my gas and neither you or you are CashApping me shit.”

He straightens you up and pulls your risen romper back over your ass. He stands behind you like a bodyguard, arms crossed and frown deepening. 

“I don’t know what you think we’re going to be doing on this yacht, but all of my girls are throwing it back. You need to prepare yourself, Mig.” Dana scoffs, mostly offended that Miguel just removed her from a dream spot. 

“Yeah, Mig. Be mindful of why you were invited to the function,” Gabriel turned his nose up and wrapped his arm around Dana. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, m’lady.”

Gabriel bowed to you and you curtsied back with a fake dress. The two of them walked like royalty to the trunk, gathering their bags. 

GymRat!Miguel who stuttered trying to explain himself when you turned to him. 

“Is it going to be a problem for you that I’m dancing with others?”

“No!” he said way too fast. 

You gave him a look with your eyebrow raised. 

“You just,” he paused. His voice got quieter as he played with the strap of your romper. “You never danced on me before.”

He had a pout on his face, mouth turned like a duck. 

“Oh my god, Miguel. I can dance on you if you would like. You just have to ask.” He was so cute. You’ve never seen him get that jealous before. 

You kind of want to play with him some more. 

“Can you dance on me later?” he asks, not daring to meet your eyes. 

“Of course.”

You giggle as you kiss his cheek. His pout slowly disappearing from his face. 

GymRat!Miguel who is greeted by the enthusiastic captain with a shake that moves his entire arm. He’s a jolly little fellow, cheeks rosy and his mustache curled on the ends. He was also strangely stocky. He reminded Miguel of Santa Claus if he took vacations in the Bahamas when he’s not at the North Pole. 

“I take it you’re Mr. Stone’s son, yes?”

“That would be me.”

“Excellent! Excellent. Your father has told me quite a lot about you. You sure do take after his height. My name is Captain Barrett and I’ll be steering the boat for you youngins this weekend. Me and your father go way back. And between you and me, I was better lookin’!”

Miguel chuckles awkwardly, trying to move the conversation along. 

He finally looks past Miguel and sees the three of you standing there. 

“And who might you three be?”

“This is my younger brother, Gabriel. His girlfriend, Dana.” 

“And this is my girlfriend.” Miguel moves by your side and wraps his arm around your shoulders. His tone is full of warmth as he says your name. 

“It’s nice to meet you all. Will you all be in our cabins this weekend?”

“Yeah, this is four of the ten staying on board. The others won’t get here until tomorrow at noon.”

“Is Kron supposed to be joining you all too?”

Miguel stiffens, his grip on your shoulder a little firmer. 

“Not that I know of, no.”

“Perfect! He ruined my other boat and it took me ages to clean it up. Hopefully, you’re nothing like him.” Captain Barrett does a little pleading gesture with his hands. 

“Welp, follow me and I’ll show you on board!”

GymRat!Miguel who is still stunned by the amount of things money can buy when he sees the yacht. He’ll never get used to the life of luxury that Tyler introduces to him. 

“Holy shit,” Gabriel mutters as he stares up at the black and wooden beauty of the deck. Dana elbows in his side, telling him to be polite in front of the captain. 

“Welcome to Black Jack.”

There were crew members there to hand out fancy smoothies and grab everyone’s bags. 

You had seen yachts on some of your old high school classmates’ Insta stories but this was beyond. 

“I’d like to introduce you guys to the crew. They’ll be assisting me to give you youngins a good time.”

Captain Barrett ran down the line and you all greeted every person. Miguel made mental notes of their names. They’ll be getting close with all of the surprises he had planned for you. 

“And this is my son, Blake! He’ll be helping me up in the cockpit.”

Miguel stopped to shake his hand. 

He was like the textbook definition of a pretty frat boy. Tall, but not O’Hara tall, tan, and handsome. He smiled and showed a straight line of teeth, dimples peeking through. 

“Nice to meet you, Miguel. Kron’s really not coming?”

What’s with people asking about that dickhead today?

“Nope. Just us and our friends. If he does come, it’s news to me.” 

Blake went to shake your hand and it was like he started to glow under the sun. His smile went up to his eyes and he mimicked the heartthrobs in the movies Miguel’s cousins watched growing up. 

“And who’s this?”

“My name is-”

“My girlfriend,” Miguel said before you could even finish. 

You looked up at him in shock, laughing it off. “That too, but I have a name.” You respond to Blake and shake his hand. 

Miguel doesn’t like how his eyes scan your body. It was subtle, but he caught it. 

Even as you all finish up greetings, Blake is still making moves towards you. The type of flirting that probably flew over your head, but Miguel has been around enough guys like him to know exactly what it was. 

 “So is this your first time on a boat?” Blake asked you while he guided you guys to your room. 

“No, actually. But it’s definitely my first time on a yacht, especially one this huge.”

Miguel followed behind with Dana and Gabriel.

“Is this your first time on a boat?” Miguel mocked Blake quietly, mouth scrunched up. 

“‘La envidia esta flaca, porque muerde y no come,’” Gabriel replied. “You’re turning green from your neck, bro. He’s just being nice.” (Envy is thin, because it bites and does not eat.)

“No, he’s definitely flirting,” Dana quipped. “He’s not even paying the rest of us any attention.”

“Thank you, Dana. And Gabriel, don’t ever quote a Spaniard to me again.”

“How do you call that flirting? He’s not even-” Gabriel paused as Blake laughed really loud at something that you said with his hand guiding you way too close on your ass. “Ah shit.”

Miguel stomped towards you two, yanking Blake’s hand off of you and replacing it with his. 

“I think we’ve got it from here. You can show those two where they’ll be staying. Thanks,” Miguel nods his head towards Dana and Gabriel with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Right,” Blake responds to him with a blank face. “I’ll see you up on the deck.” Blake winks at you before walking further. 

“Don’t kill him, Miguel,” Dana pats his shoulder as she walks by. 

“You’ve got my permission to hurt him if he touches me one more time though,” you say, snuggling close to Miguel and patting at his chest. 

“So, I’m killing him. Got it.”

GymRat!Miguel who watches you twirl around the VIP suite. 

“Miguel! This is so beautiful! Look at the view.”

“Oh my god! There’s a walk-in closet!”

“There’s a bidet! How’d they fit that and a shower in here?”

Miguel leaned on the doorway, watching you comment on every little thing. 

You made sure to start to spray everything with Lysol, a habit from your mom when traveling. 

While you were in the bathroom, Miguel got out one of his first gifts of the night. 

It was another keychain to add to your collection. He’s been working hard to have this weekend make up for the awful dinner night. 

He placed it on the bed and started to open his bag to grab his pajamas. 

“What’s this?” you ask, coming out to spray the bed. 

“Just a little gift for you.”

“Aw, this is so cute!” Your voice gets higher as you take in the little legos. “They even look like us! When did you get these?”

“I got them made about a week ago. You like them?”

“I love them! Thank you, Miggy.”

GymRat!Miguel who wants to moan when you walk out. 

You guys are going on a double date with Gabriel and Dana at a casual-not-so-casual restaurant farther in the city. That didn’t stop you from getting all dolled up. 

You walk to him on the bed, standing in between his legs. 

“Amor,” Miguel said, rubbing his hands up and down your backside. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you. So do you,” you responded, careful to not run your hands through his hair. It was a comfort for you, but you didn’t want to ruin it. 

Instead, you bent down to kiss him in the quiet of the room. The sun was still out, but a lot dimmer than before. Little patches of sunlight caught Miguel’s eyes. The color was so deeply brown, you swore you saw speckles of red throughout. 

He moved to sit you on his lap, glancing over every detail of your body. 

“You’re making it harder for me to want to leave.”

“It’s funny that you say that. You’ve been walking around like you’re straight out of a beach movie. Chest out and legs for days.”

Miguel blushed and put his head in your chest, bending you back and holding you so you won’t fall. 

“What are you hiding for? It’s true!” you laugh as Miguel seemed to burrow his face deeper. 

“Yeah, but you don’t have to call me out.” He was just trying to impress you, per usual. 

GymRat!Miguel who gets nervous on the way to the restaurant. It was one of those immersive experiences with projections on the plates that told stories with the meals. They were pretty cute to Miguel and he figured that all three of you guys would love it. 

The only thing is, he pulled some strings with Tyler to add an extra animation in there. He’s not sure how much that cost, but he’s glad he didn’t have to see the price. 

GymRat!Miguel who side-eyes Gabriel when he just about screams as the little chef walks across the animated place. 

“He’s so tiny!” he whisper-shouts. “So precious!”

By the time the first course comes out Gabriel is fighting tears. 

“Control it, Gabri,” Miguel says, rubbing his back. 

“I’m trying. I really am.”

GymRat!Miguel whose heart blooms when you laugh at one of the scenes. The little chef is squabbling with a giant shrimp and losing the battle. 

GymRat!Miguel whose heart speeds up when the special animation starts up. 

Only the two of your plates are lit up. There’s a river of chocolate that separates the two. From Miguel’s plate, there’s a little version of him that calls to your plate. He watches as your eyes grow when a mini you climbs on top of the plate and yells back. Your character throws him a kiss, sending a pink flutter across the river. The wave of it goes straight to mini Miguel’s heart who in turn, falls backwards dramatically. 

The real you lets out a watery laugh at the scene, eyes looking at Miguel briefly in shock. 

Mini Miguel jumps back up and gets to work, digging around the plate to grab biscoff cookies from the chocolate ocean to make a boat. While he works, your character wanders around the plate cutely, tidying up the area for his arrival. 

When the boat is finished, Mini Miguel uses a giant spoon to steer the boat, singing out brightly the closer he gets to you. The mini you is jumping up and down, cheering him on just like you do in real life. 

Once he gets to the edge of your plate, you lean close to give him a kiss. He climbs from the boat onto the plate and spins you around. You giggle in his hold until he lets you down. 

From there, he starts to use the spoon to drag a chocolate message across the plate. He takes confident steps, spreading the brown syrup across the plate with ease. 

“Tú eres mi luz.” (You are my light.)

When he finishes it, you both sit at the edge of the plate, feeding each other scoops of chocolate from the giant spoon. They both look up at you to wave, the Mini Miguel cheesing extremely hard as he waves both arms. 

The animation fades away in a wave of browns and pinks, the waiters bringing out the actual plates of food. 

The floodgates open when you’re presented with the same chocolate message, a slice of chocolate biscoff cake, and little chocolate decorations of the mini you and Miguel. 

“Oh my god, the spoon is here too,” you say with emotion, picking up a chocolate coated spoon. “Miguel!”

You don't know what to do. You keep fanning your face in hopes to stop the tears from coming out and ruining the light makeup you had on. Dana hands you a pointed napkin and you thank her while holding your head back. 

Gabriel is a mess, faces wet with tears. His cheeks are round as he blows out air to control his breathing. 

“I didn’t mean to make you cry, mi amor,” Miguel’s face is ridden with worry as he reaches across the table to grab your hand. He looks to Gabriel and sighs, “You either, hermanito.” (little brother)

“I’m good. I gotta just,” Gabriel waves a hand in front of his face cutely. “Just gotta get this out. If you’ll excuse me.” 

He gets up to shuffle to the bathroom. 

“I better go help him out. He gets a little delirious when he cries like that,” Dana says, rubbing your shoulder as she leaves the table. 

Miguel wastes no time to sit in Dana’s seat, taking the napkin from your hands and wiping carefully at your tears. 

“I love you. So, so much,” you say, resting your face in his hands. “Everyday, you find new ways to surprise me. I don’t know how you do it, but I’m just…”

You pause, waving your hands in the air, unable to express how you felt. Just thinking about it has the tears spilling over again. 

“Hey, hey,” Miguel chides, catching your tears again. “If you keep crying, I’m going to cry.”

“I can’t help it, Miguel! You made a cookie boat to get to me. How can I not cry?”

Miguel reaches to kiss your cheeks in hopes to help you subside the tears, “I know, baby, I know. But to answer your first thought, when I think of you, the ideas just pour out of me. You’re my first true love, so I don’t know all the ends and outs of a relationship, but I do know what it feels like to be loved. I just want to extend that feeling to you.”

You stare in awe and the man sitting next to you, eyes glistening as you take in his words. 

“I think I need another tissue.”

Miguel laughs as he grabs one to pat at your face again. 

GymRat!Miguel who feeds you bites of the cake while you feed him scoops of ice cream when you’ve calmed down. You can’t stop smiling for the rest of the night. 

divider by: @iwonbin 🩵

Part 9.2 here!

a/n: This is half of the chapter, but I had so much fun writing this! (mostly because I was not doing my actual work while writing half of it), especially Gabriel's silly ass. Like, it was super duper fun. Writing jealous Miguel was also great. There's so much stuff about reader that he was unaware of and I've been imagining him sitting at a table and yelling like Kendrick when it all plays back in his mind.

As always, like, comment, and reblog. Let me know how you feel! 🩵

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[scuderiahoney]

congrats on 1k lovely!!! your writing just feels so grounded but romantic and it's just such a great combination :) could we get soft prompt "linking arms when walking around together" or "reaching out for the others hand just to hold it" with either charles or lando?? like they always tell each other they are just "friends" and never establish anything further but the reader is just a touchy kind of person with their friends and charles or lando just let them attach themselves to them :3 can't wait for ur next work!!

hi i’m sorry this is so late but i finally wrote it omg!! thank you!!

You’ve always been a touchy person. People have been teasing you about it your whole life. Your friends call you clingy affectionately, your exes have called you suffocating, and others fall somewhere in the middle. You can’t help it, really- when you care about someone, you want to touch them. It makes you feel grounded and safe.

Charles has never seemed to mind. He’s one of a few who never comments on it, never teases you for it, and really, of everyone, he might have the most right to. He’s gone so often throughout the year that when you do get to be around him, you stay glued to his side. You hold his hand at parties, lean against him on couches in living rooms, and hook your arm through his when you take walks together.

He never complains, never even laughs in response. He just squeezes your hand, leans back against you, and tugs your elbow with his to pull you close. It’s no surprise he’s the one you feel most comfortable around, and that maybe you’ve developed a bit of a crush on him.

But you know how these things end. Eventually, he’ll tire of your touchiness. He’ll start to pull away first, start to avoid sitting next to you. It always happens, with everyone you’ve ever wanted to be close with. You know it must be exhausting, keeping up with you.

When he comes home to Monaco for the winter break, you try to tone it down. Your friend had made a comment the weekend before, about how nobody would be able to pry you away from him when he got back, and you’d gone red at the extended teasing from your friends. Maybe they were right. Maybe you should try to be a bit more normal with him. You don’t want to scare him away.

Things are fine for the first few weeks of the break. He’s the same as always, more relaxed in the off season and happy to be home with friends and family. You still spend plenty of time with him, but you try not to hug him for so long, and try to keep a bit more distance. It’s for the best, as much as your chest aches.

Then you’re at his apartment, late after everyone else has left, nursing the last sips of your drink. You’re sitting on the floor, and Charles is laying on the couch behind you. He sets his empty drink down on the table and clears his throat. You tear your eyes away from the movie on the TV and turn to him expectantly.

“You’re being weird,” he says, quietly, almost sounding hurt.

You blink at him, brows furrowed. “What?”

“Normally, you are so…” he huffs, waving his hands around. “You hold my hand, or sit next to me, or- you are-“

“Clingy,” you fill in.

He blinks, then frowns. “No. Clingy is… no. You are just usually closer. You’re far away now.”

You shake your head. “I’m right here.”

Charles huffs, and then he sits up and hooks both of his hands under your arms and pulls. You let out a squeak as he lifts you up onto the couch easily, tucking you into the space between him and the back of it, slotted right against his side. Then he wraps his arms around your middle, as if to say, stay here. You swallow down the tears that threaten to spring up in your eyes.

“Now you are right here,” he says. He brushes a kiss against your hairline and sighs happily. “I have been missing this.”

You shrug, voice quiet when you say, “everyone is always teasing me for being clingy. I was worried I was annoying you.”

He shakes his head against yours, and one of his hands squeezes your hip. “No. I like having you close.”

That brings on a fresh wave of tears. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything. He just rubs his hand against your side as he holds you there, and you melt into the warmth of him. Close. You like it, too.

#charles Leclerc x reader #charles Leclerc x you #charles Leclerc blurb #charles Leclerc fic #charles Leclerc fanfic #charles Leclerc fluff #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 blurb #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 fic #f1 blurb #formula one blurb #x reader #box box #cl16 #honeywrites #scuderiahoney 1k blurbs

[notjustjavierpena]

I have recently watched scenes from a marriage with oscar isaac and my mind which connects everything with hubby javi immediately went to this:

imagine wife’s and javi’s friends are going through a divorce, there’s cheating m, miscommunication etc and just a very hard time.

I feel like Javi and Wife would have a conversation about this due to the proximity of it happening to their friends. One about trust and if they’re happy. It’s not about insecurity or anything just them both communicating effectively and giving the other reassurance that this is not on the cards for them.

I just value their relationship so much.

Reassess

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost

A/N: Hiya anon! I hope it’s okay that I tweaked your request slightly to fit my version of hubby and wife. Enjoy ❤️ Thanks so much for proofreading, @angelofsmalldeath-codeine !!!

Summary: You and Javier’s friends are going through a divorce, and it suddenly makes you wonder about your own marriage.

Pairing: Javier Peña x reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18, talk about divorce, talk about cheating, brief descriptions of piv sex with creampie, hurt/comfort, love!, mention of pregnancy and pregnant reader, cuddling, kisses, Javier is a great husband and you are anxious

Word count: 1.6k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54352768

Reassess

Jonathan and Mira are getting a divorce. The news had been announced to you by Javier when he entered the dimly lit living room on a Thursday night, looking paler than a ghost after what you had wrongly assumed to be a same-as-always phone conversation about football, work and going out for a beer in the near future. 

“No!” You had instinctively covered your mouth with your hand to suppress an animated gasp. Apparently, Mira had come clean about seeing another man a few days earlier and it only took shy of two days for their whole marriage to crumble. The thought was and is terrifying. 

It seems to dampen the mood between you and your husband significantly. There are more pregnant silences, longer stares, more hurried kisses, and worried faces in the middle of your daily routines that become opportunities for reflection when doing something mundane as folding laundry. However, the elephant in the room becomes most unbearable when Javier rolls off of you after making love to you a week after the news hit. 

He stares up at the ceiling and pants as he tries coming down from his high, reaching up to run his fingers through his slightly sweaty hair. You shift on your side of the bed to turn your body towards him, and gently lay a hand on his chest, “That was really good.”

“Hm? What?” He replies, “Oh right, yeah.”

“Honey,” you furrow your brow, “I don’t think I particularly like having sex with you if you’re not here with me.” 

“Lo siento (I’m sorry),” his eyes find yours, his voice is genuine, “I can’t stop thinking about Jon and Mira.”

Your eyes soften at that. It is nice to know that he is as shaken by this happening as you are, and in such close proximity to your own marriage too even if it technically has nothing to do with you. It suddenly hits why it has been so hard to start up a conversation about it. 

“Me either,” you sigh and scratch his chest gently with your nails and lay your head on his shoulder. He takes hold of your wrist and rubs the back of your hand with his thumb in soothing circles, “I can’t believe they ended up like that, who would have thought?”

“And Ava?” Javier sounds devastated and turns his head toward yours so he can rest his lips in your hair. 

“She must be so confused,” you mumble back, lost in thought. Ava is Mira and Jonathan’s daughter who sometimes has play dates with Inés, and to think that she has to deal with her parents not being able to work as a couple, especially since Mira apparently had to go sleep with someone else, is a scenario that you find nauseating when your brain automatically starts imagining your own children in the same scenario. You don’t think Lucas would ever forgive you if you caused that much hurt to his father, “I don’t know what Mira was thinking. Ava has to deal with her mom having hurt her dad. Why would she put her through that?”

“Jonathan said she’s in love with this new guy,” Javier argues. 

“I suppose sometimes you just fall in love with someone else,” you say without any emotion in your voice except for maybe a hint of disgust. 

“Are you happy? With me?” The question has been looming over the both of you since the news hit. It was only a matter of time before one of you would start reassessing your own marriage. 

You lift your head up to look Javier straight in the eyes, and even if you knew it was coming, you still feel taken aback by how much it makes your guts turn to even be told to consider it. The answer is so clear, “What? I—“

“That’s not an immediate yes,” he furrows his brow in concern. 

“Don’t be absurd,” you say back, “I love you so much it’s ridiculous.”

“But do you ever worry about us?” He continues. 

“This is the part where you say you love me too,” you joke without much humor in your voice. 

“Are you kidding? I’m nothing without you,” he lifts the hand you still have on his chest to kiss your palm, “Te amo tanto (I love you so much) but I need you to answer the question.”

“I don’t ever worry about us, no,” you answer truthfully and Javier visibly relaxes, “I know you. I trust you. It doesn’t even occur to me that I could have anything different in my life, you know? It feels like I would always have found you somewhere else if not here.”

“Perhaps they looked for something else when things became routine,” he suggests, resting your hand against his cheek.

“It’s never routine for me to tell you I love you,” you tell him with a little smile, “There’s no going back to the way things were before you.” 

“The idea of having anything else but this,” he trails off for a second, weighing his words and reaching out for you with his free hand. He cups the back of your knee to pull your leg over his naked body, “It’s just not in the cards for me. I’ll never love anyone the way that I love you.”

“Is this code for you’re stuck with me?” You crawl closer to kiss him on the mouth and tighten the leg around him, “Hm?”

“Sí (yes), you’re stuck with me, baby,” he says against your lips. 

“Do you promise that?” You whisper after pulling back a little, smiling softly as you look down at his mouth. He initiates another kiss after nodding. 

You kiss for a while without rushing it, deeply until you share each breath in your intense embrace. Despite just having had sex with him fifteen minutes ago, you want him again in a way that has him as hard as when you first got together. He fucks you open slowly with you on your back, makes you come on his cock with an almost pained tone in your whimper. He is everywhere on you, soaking you in love. The way he gasps along with you as he comes inside of you has your heart pounding in your chest. 

“No quiero a nadie más que a ti (I don’t want anyone else other than you),” he says when basking in the afterglow. However, you have already gotten out of bed to get cleaned up in the bathroom. In contrast to your husband, your afterglow is replaced by anxiety that you have just promised isn’t there. 

“I don’t want to end up like that,” you say while peeing with the door open. Javier moves on the bed to be able to look at you. 

“We won’t, te lo prometo (I promise you that),” he is quick to answer. You try to give him a smile but he notices the way you falter, “Anything you want to talk about? Anything on your mind?"

“They used to be so happy,” you sigh deeply and get up after finishing your business. You move to the sink and start washing your hands, your back suddenly towards him, “Makes me wonder if we're strong enough to weather anything.”

You hear the weight of him shift on the mattress and a second later, the soft pads of his feet across the tiled bathroom floor. He is behind you, looking at you in the mirror. You feel grateful for the sincerity in his eyes.

“Baby,” he tuts, wrapping his strong arms around you from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder. One of his hands goes down to lay on your stomach right below your belly button. You have just started to show, and the both of you have already talked about how early it is that your belly has started protruding but none of you have any clue why yet as you haven’t had your first scan. 

Javier kisses your bare shoulder, “This is my life, and I love it, and I would never hurt you… I trust you not to hurt me too.”

You silently turn off the tap to dry your hands but Javier doesn’t let you move. He lifts your chin so he can stare at you in the mirror, “I need you to trust me when I say that ten years with you have only made me want ten, twenty, thirty more. I love you. I choose you every day. Jonathan and Mira didn’t choose each other. We’re not them.”

“I love you too,” you shake your hands dry instead and then turn in your husband’s arms. You hug him close and he walks you out of the bathroom whilst still holding you tightly. 

“Three kids so far,” he reminds you whilst guiding you back to bed, “A decade down the line. We must be doing something right.”

“But what if—“

“You worry too much, mi vida (my life),” he says and smacks your ass as you crawl back into your bed. You glare back at him but he just snickers while crawling in too, “Get comfortable and go to sleep.”

“I don’t know if I can,” you say truthfully.

“Of course, you can,” Javier joins you under the covers. He lays down close to you and without saying a word, reaches out to gently and repeatedly stroke his hand over your hair. The warmth of his palm soothes your worry, each caress easing away the weight in your chest. 

You wonder if Mira left because Jonathan didn’t do this sort of thing anymore. Javier has done it for ten years. This fact makes sleep find you easily.

.

.

.

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[boba-beom]

༊*·˚ nobody but you | KANG TAEHYUN

ᰔᩚ pairing: bsf!!taehyun x gn!reader

ᰔᩚ genre: oneshot; bsf2l, fluff, suggestive

ᰔᩚ warnings: intimate, confession, physical affection, kisses, makeout, petname; sweetheart, reader plays hard to get(?), taehyun carries reader at the end (he's a strong boy <3)

ᰔᩚ wc: 1.1k

ᰔᩚ a/n: happy 22nd birthday to the my first love out of five, kang taehyun <3 I was in my feels when I wrote this so enjoy :') song that inspired me this time: double take - dhruv

The crisp afternoon breeze tickles your lungs as you take a deep inhale before exhaling with a needed stretch. You make your way to the terrace of the airbnb that you and your best friend had booked for the weekend and you see him in his black sherpa fleece sitting in front by the glass panel.

"Hey, why didn't you wake me up? I overslept." You pull a chair and join him, scooting your seat close to him with no gap between.

"You looked too peaceful to wake up." He reasons.

The both of you are looking out at the empty beach, waiting for the waves to roll in until they fade out again, your arm linked with his but his hand rests by the inside of your wrist.

He begins skimming lazy strokes with his blunt fingernails up and down the inside of your wrist, gradually pushing up the hem of your sleeve for him to do so. The feather-like pressure only brought tingles up your forearm and to your shoulders, emitting a little shudder.

It was comfortable.

He continues his motions, as he hums a tune that's been stuck in his head, but you recognise it easily.

"I haven't head that song for ages." You speak up.

He hums. "Mhm, it's been two years since it came out. But it's timeless, I must say."

You nod slowly, smiling at his appreciation towards the artist and the song as he rests his chin on your shoulder, noticing the way the warmth of his breath fans across your exposed skin by your collar.

"You know," he starts, voice low by your ear, "I once learnt that other than your erogenous zones, the inside of your wrist up to the palm of your hand is just as sensitive."

"Mmh, makes sense why you like to do this. Who else do you do this to?" You tease, knowing that Taehyun would definitely tell you if there was someone in the picture, right?

"You know I don't do this to anyone else." He mumbles by your shoulder before placing a gentle kiss.

"You sure? What happened to that person you told me about awhile ago?"

"Silly, it's awhile ago because I'm no long interested in them." He finger quoted.

"So who are you interested in?" You turn to look at your best friend, faces only mere millimetres apart, waiting for his eyes to meet yours.

"You." He says, voice husky.

You retreat, sitting back as your face scrunches in disbelief, not entirely convinced that this beauty of a man chose you out of all the people he has been with.

All he does is huff out of amusement from your reaction. He's always loved that about you.

"You know you're the only one who I have eyes for, right?"

He kisses your shoulder again, this time his lips lingering and trailing up over the thin material of your long sleeved top until you felt his soft lips borderline crossing the neckline by the base of your neck.

"I beg to differ. You're bluffing, surely."

Taehyun grabs the side of your chair, swiftly turning it around so you're directly facing him, also shifting his chair to face you. He plants his hands on either side of the metal arm rests, leaning into you again, almost hovering, leaving a few centimetres between you.

"And if I kiss you, would that convince you?"

"I don't know, you could just be kissing anyone." You say nonchalantly paired with a shrug.

You've never felt so much attention on your lips, especially from Kang Taehyun himself. Only now you've seen him so focused on them, making the corner of your lips quirk up from the thought.

"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that otherwise I'd feel offended." He feigned a hurt tone.

You chuckle beneath him, and he melts at the sight of your smile that always caught him lacking.

"You have pretty lips, you know?" You say as you lift your hand to cup his cheek, moving your thumb so it brushes against his bottom lip.

"Yeah?"

Taehyun smirks at the gesture, sensing the playful tension now lost and replaced by something unnamed, something that is yet to be confirmed.

"I think you should kiss me if you think so." He whispers lowly, awaiting your response.

"I think I will." You say confidently, tugging at the collar of his fleece as you draw him closer to you.

As your eyes shut, the sensation of your lips colliding almost has you floating, both sighing into the kiss like you've waited for months on end. You bring your fingers up to mess with his hair, running through his wavy locks with the occasional gentle tugs.

He doesn't wait to rest a hand by the side of your neck and the other by your waist, squeezing the area for you to shift onto his lap without breaking the kiss. Your teeth clash from the movement, but they eventually mold together as you steady your arms over his shoulders.

The faint sound of the waves rolling onto the sand, clashing against some odd rocks on the beach is accompanied by the sound of both of your heavy breathing and Taehyun's gentle hums until he pulls away briefly.

"I like you. A lot. And only you." He says between chaste kisses. "God, it's always been you, sweetheart."

Just as you see the tips of his ears turning a blush pink under his brown locks, you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks. He was always so sweet to you, but this? Your knees felt like they buckled despite sitting comfortably in his lap.

"Really? I couldn't tell." Your playful smile returns to your lips as you continue to tease him, feeling the way he huffs again.

"I can show you then? If you want me to." His lips latches delicately on the skin of your neck, showering the area with lightly kisses that has your eyes shutting, focusing on the tingly sensation spreading like a wildfire.

You move your arms so they're hooked from under his arms, hand splayed and resting high on his shoulder blades, maintaining this closeness between your warm bodies. You experiment with a light scratch through his outerwear, yet you still manage to earn a low groan from him as you whisper in his ear.

"Please. I like you. I want you."

"Good. That was the only right answer." He chuckles lightly.

Catching you off-guard, he has one hand under your thighs and the other on your mid back as he stands, knocking back the chair with the back of his leg before carrying you back into your shared bedroom.

The bed unmade; pillows not by the headboard and half of the comforter hanging on the edge of the bed. But it was fine. You had a feeling Taehyun wouldn't mind a bit of a mess anyway — the mess not limited to just the bed itself.

taglist: @choiwrld @yjusei @ahnneyong @prodsh00ky @wccycc @lizdevorak @fairybin @laylasbunbunny @acaiasahi @ttyunz @cha0thicpisces @fairybinie @ja4hyvn @yunkiwii @aprilisque @https-yeonjun @lovejoshua @seolis-world @bb-eilish @ericyjun @luvsoobs @yeonyeonyeonjun @junniieesbby @kyrkitten @day6andetcetera @dainsleif-when-playable @txt-yaomi @soobinsman (ask to be on the taglist! spreadsheet here)

for this post: @royallyjjk @f4iryfever

© BOBA-BEOM ; all rights reserved. do not repost, alter or translate in any way or platform.

#k-labels #kflixnet #taehyun fluff #taehyun suggestive #taehyun scenarios #taehyun imagines #taehyun oneshot #taehyun x gn reader #taehyun x reader #txt fluff #txt suggestive #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt oneshot #txt x gn reader #txt x reader #happy taehyun day <3

[milkb0nny]

Hello! May I request Jing Yuan and Welt finding usually silly and vibrant reader laying on the ground unmoving and unresponsive. Upon closer inspection they realize reader is crying with a blank expression . Turns out reader had to confront some people who hurt them deeply in the past and afterwards reader just shut down.

(I hope this isn't too much info. If your not comfy feel free to decline, I'd appreciate if you let me know though (mostly just for my peace of mind 😅))

Thank you.

🥐

Jing Yuan and Welt comforting their unresponsive s/o

Jing Yuan x gn!reader, Welt x gn! reader

Note: Thank you very much for this request! I love this idea and it was very healing while writing it. Everyone has their own struggles, so angsty fluff is always a good way to cope with stuff. Nevertheless, I hope you'll like it. Take care! 🤎

Warnings: mentions of trauma in the past, crying, unresponsive reader

𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐚𝐧...

Jing Yuan, the General of the Xianzhou, stood beside his usually bubbly and extroverted partner, who was now unresponsive and in tears. He questioned himself, as he never saw you in such a sorry state. Sure, some days you cried on his shoulders and expressed your anxiety openly, but this was another level. Jing Yuan was torn apart by the sight of your motionless body that seemed to be glued on the ground. Never in his life did he expect you to be shaken to this point. The normally well put together man felt somehow responsible for your horrifying breakdown. Of course, Jing Yuan loved you and did everything for you. Witnessing how the tears left your eyes, creating a small puddle beneath your face, meant that he hadn’t been there the right time.

The traumatic encounter with the person linked to your past had left you deeply shattered, unable to contain the flood of emotions. Jing Yuan's calm and gentle nature belied the weight he carried as a leader, but in this moment, he was solely focused on comforting the love of his life. No matter what had happened to you in the past, he was now your new protector and savior from all the pain. The tall man came closer to you, slowly approaching you as he wanted to avoid frightening you. However, you flinched a little as he accidentally made a wrong move, and that alone caused unbelievable rage inside of him. How could someone harm you in this way, so much that you even flinch in sight of your partner.

Kneeling down beside your aching body, he slowly reached out and gently wiped away your hot tears, his touch soft as a breeze through the leaves. His voice, usually commanding on the battlefield, was now tender and soothing.

“My love, I'm here with you. You're safe with me,” he whispered, his gentleness pouring into your consciousness.

Your devastating sobs continued, but you still shifted your gaze to Jing Yuan, finding solace in the warmth of his presence. He wrapped his strong, protective arms around you, allowing you to bury your puffy face in his welcoming chest. He hummed reassuring words, his deep voice a balm to your distressed soul. Oh, he couldn’t imagine how much your sweet heart must suffer.

“You don't have to face this alone, darling. I'm here, right here, and I won't let anyone hurt you again. We'll heal together,” his words hit you like a struck, releasing you from the freezing trauma, and finally you can take a deep breath, that you missed the whole time. His love always softened you up but it also made you bawl your eyes out even more. Though, Jing Yuan never minded - it didn’t matter to him how much you sob and cry because all these emotions deserve to be heard.

Jing Yuan's love for you, his partner, was unwavering. He would willingly lay down his life to see you smile again in dark times, and this moment, as you clung to him, was a testament to that devotion. He was determined to be your sole anchor, to help you find your way back from the darkness that haunted you.

𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐭...

Welt, a respected and wise member of the Express, was known for his rationality and stern demeanor. March never mined his serious personality, but sometimes even she was a little intimidated by it - he always handled difficult things so easily. However, when it came to his lovely partner, he wore his heart on his sleeve. He had never expected to involve himself in a romantic relationship, but you entered his life with full grace. The moment he had set his tired eyes on you, all life flowed back into his senses, desiring you. He couldn't bear to see you unresponsive and in tears, especially knowing the cause was a traumatic reminder of the past. Welt didn’t need to analyze your state, as you had once told him about your past, but viewing your shivering yet still body caused a rip in his heart.

With utmost care and gentleness, Welt approached you, who had withdrawn into silence. He knew very well how to bring you back to the present. To be honest, he was glad to find you in this state, as he wouldn’t forgive himself, if he never discovered your fragile being. You usually hid in placed where you knew you were alone, though this time you were unable to make it. The man who found you was the safest space in the universe. Welt, gentler with you than with anyone, could never hurt you.

He spoke softly, his words laced with genius concern. "Love, I know you can hear me. You’re safe now, no one can do you harm. Whatever you're feeling, I'm here. Come here in my lap," his deep voice rushed through your foggy mind, and you eased up as the hope of safety proved itself.

Your mesmerizing eyes, usually filled with admiration and enjoyment of life, now reflected endless pain and vulnerability - vulnerability that made you feel so week too. Welt carefully took your ice-cold hand and held it firmly, his touch conveying reassurance and strength. His warmth was a contrast to the coldness of your skin, to you it felt reassuring though. His touch felt like the rising sun, slowly demolishing ice and uncovering nature, causing everything to bloom. You bloomed, pushing the hardships of your past away.

“You don't have to face this pain alone. I'm by your side, always," Welt inquired once more, promising you his love.

Welt's wisdom usually extended beyond the realms of intellect; it encompassed the depth of his emotional connection with you. He knew how to provide comfort, how to be the sanctuary you needed in this moment of turmoil. He was willing to give his all, even if it meant sacrificing himself, to see you going through this dark chapter. Kindness, food, a shelter - those were things everyone could give to you but Welt was the only one who collected all your pain and released you from it. Since you engaged in a relationship with the stern man, you healed more and more.

In this moment you started to cling to him, seeking solace in his embrace. Welt's facade of stoicism cracked, revealing the depth of love he held within. He adored you so much. He was ready to face any storm with you, protecting you at all costs, and cherishing the vulnerability that only he was privileged to witness. Welt loved how you expressed your feelings and he was proud - endlessly proud of you that you call out to him, even if you are non verbal.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hrs x reader #star rail #jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #welt x reader #welt x you #welt x y/n #hrs welt #star rail welt

[tojisun]

on losing dogs

: mamaguro’s named here again (it’s kaori - adopted from an old fic); just a small vent

you saw her before she saw you two and you knew right away that that’s toji’s ex-wife. she was truly beautiful like what everyone had said.

(“of course you’re beautiful too. it’s just, you know, in a different way,” toji’s friends would assure you but they’ve always shared pointed looks at each other after every confession. you chose to ignore it then, thinking that they’re just being asses like what toji said. but even sleazy jokes ring truths.)

toji marched on towards her without questions, his hand slipping from yours as you neared his ex-wife. still, he was walking along your stride and that had been a relief for you. he didn’t leave you to trudge along, at least, so you batted away the curling paranoia sitting in the pit of your stomach.

“kaori, hey,” toji greeted, his voice gentle and soft, before pulling her into an embrace.

“toji!” she cheered, her face crinkling in delight. she burrowed in his arms, rubbing her cheek on toji’s chest as toji’s body covered her petite figure.

they painted a picture of a perfect couple: sharp jaw mellowed by round cheeks, callused hands cradled in dewy palms. you felt like an intruder. an outsider.

the badge of being toji’s “new beau” that you were stamped with felt like a lie. you felt like nothing of toji’s as you stood there beside them.

when they parted, arms still linked, you watched as they gazed into each others eyes, and saw mirrors of longing looking at each other. but, still, you were in denial. because toji brought you with him, so that must mean something, didn’t it? you told yourself that you were just seeing things that weren’t there; that you were so used to being thrown away that you were projecting these onto toji.

you breathed in, trying to calm your panicked heart. it did so little.

“i’m so glad you’re here!” kaori said. “come, someone misses you- oh. who are you?”

the question startled you and your eyes flicked up, your throat going dry as they both turned to you. there was a flicker of emotion in toji’s eyes before he stepped out of his ex-wife’s arms and stood in the space between you and her.

not beside you, you noticed.

“i’m y/n,” you said, smiling as you offered your hand to kaori’s. “toji’s g-”

“friend,” toji interrupted. you blinked, your body freezing as the pit in your stomach exploded in ice, the paranoia now a screaming anguished cries of betrayal.

kaori’s eyes cleared, her smile getting its warmth back, before she reached out to shake your hand. “nice to meet you, y/n,” she said, voice kind and soft and polite. but your ears were still ringing of toji’s words.

you turned to toji, confused and hurt (there was so much hurt in you), but toji kept his eyes on her.

you cleared your throat. “nice to meet you too,” you said, feeling helpless.

kaori let go, her hands clasping behind her. “you wouldn’t mind me stealing toji, would you? we’re just going to meet family.”

family, she said like toji is still hers.

you shook your head, not trusting your words.

“great!” she cheered before turning to toji, her arm linking with his. toji still did not meet your eyes as they walked away, something that was so symbolic and yet so apparently truthful.

#suns.f #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji x reader #jjk x reader angst #toji fushiguro #jjk #its a revival of my angst era for sure #i wanted to cry so i wrote a little somesome #suns

[starglitterz]

serendipity. (vii)

─── chapter 7 ! ~ my bff thinks she’s sherlock holmes (…what?)

summary; when you, a waitress at the local coffee shop, are paired up with the new recruit scaramouche, you’re pretty sure both of you are going to get fired within a week. he’s just quit being a social media influencer and after being forced to work here to make ends meet, he’s ready to let everyone there know how much he hates it. the worst part? you can’t shake the feeling that you know him from somewhere. but as he slowly warms up to you, scaramouche realises that having a fresh start isn’t that bad after all, and perhaps the two of you meeting like this was pure serendipity.

a/n; hiii it's me again ! i'm so back >:) hope you missed serendipity bc i definitely did hehehe,,, also for further context on some details mentioned in this chapter, you should totally read cynosure 👀 (shameless self-promo LOL) anyways i hope u enjoy this chapter !!

warning(s); a lot of swearing, scuffed pics 😔

previous.┃masterlist.┃next.

please reblog w comments ! it helps a lot :)

private messages #1 !

phone call !

incoming call from kokomi at 1.30 p.m.

kokomi: hi, y/n! it's your lunch break now, right?

y/n: yep! i'm surprised you remember.

kokomi: hey! i just visited you the other day, my memory isn't that bad!!

y/n: yeah, yeah, whatever you say. anyways, what did you want to tell me? it sounded important.

kokomi: well… you know how we met childe and signora the other day, right?

y/n: yeah, i could barely believe they knew scara. i mean, this is the same guy who complains about the stray cats making a mess outside the cafe but still leaves leftovers for them. i wouldn't have expected him to have such famous friends.

kokomi: me too. and i actually wanted to talk to you about that.

y/n: why, what is it?

kokomi: i was curious about how scaramouche knew them, so i asked gorou to do a little digging.

y/n: what? kokomi, why would you do that?

kokomi: this guy shows up out of nowhere and ayaka hires him, and it turns out he has friends in such high places? it's suspicious!

y/n: what the fuck, kokomi? what's gotten into you? this is my colleague we're talking about. he's literally just some random guy ayaka hired, why do his friends matter? it's not like they're bad people!

kokomi: they might not be, but he is.

y/n: and what's that supposed to mean?

kokomi: check the link i just sent you.

y/n: fuck off, kokomi. i'm not dealing with this today. what's wrong with you?

kokomi: y/n, please just click it. i really think you need to see this.

you click on the link kokomi sent you - it's a youtube video titled 'the rise & fall of scaramouche'. you watch it in silence with kokomi still on the phone.

kokomi: you see? he was a drama youtuber and he got clout off of ruining other people's lives - he even got fired from genshin impact! when genshin threatened a lawsuit, he agreed to settle privately by deleting all his accounts. genshin must have paid to scrub all the traces of him they could from the internet too. i knew there was something fishy about him!

y/n: honestly, fuck you, kokomi.

kokomi: what?! why me?!

y/n: because who cares what his past was like? yeah, maybe he used to be a shitty person, and yeah he's still a pain in my ass, but he's changing. scara hasn't done anything bad since he started working here, i don't know why you're so against him.

kokomi: i just don't want you to get hurt, y/n. we all know you're still looking for that mystery guy from when you were younger, and this is the first time you've liked someone without mentioning that. i'm worried he's taking advantage of you.

y/n: get a grip, kokomi. i'm a grown adult, and you're not my mother. i can make my own choices and deal with the consequences.

kokomi: well forgive me for being worried about my FRIEND.

y/n: just… leave me alone. goodbye, kokomi.

call cut from y/n's end at 2.17 p.m.

private messages #2 !

twitter !

i'm curious, what do u guys think abt what kokomi did? are you on her side or y/n's side? i've personally experienced a lot of friends getting defensive whenever you point out anything wrong with their rs/bf so i guess this is partially inspired by that LOL

© starglitterz 2024. do not repost or modify in any way.

#[☕] ━━━ serendipity ! #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #scaramouche fluff #genshin smau #genshin impact smau #scaramouche smau #scaramouche

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

moon song - m. murdock

a/n: oh boy. uh. thanks for all the love on my last fic, so i decided to give you an incredibly angsty fic. this one is for all my male readers but honestly i want everyone to read it so. as always, reblogs, feedback and comments are always appreciated! warnings: internalized homophobia, cursing, infidelity, angst, hurt/no comfort, casual homophobia (teasing not anything insane) catholic guilt and symbolism, bisexual karen page, i'm not an elektra anti, making out, alcohol to cope, reader has a lot of coming out moments word count: 3.4k summary: you hate that elektra and matt are getting married. will you convince him not to go through with it? can you? pairing: matt murdock x male!reader now playing: moon song - phoebe bridgers "and if i could give you the moon/i would give you the moon/you are sick/ and you're married/and you might be dying/but you're holding me like water in your hands"

You’re in Josie’s when they realize. It’s like any other night, Foggy to your left, Karen to your right, as you watch Matt and Elektra play pool together. You take another swig of your whiskey, and tap your fingers on the glass, desperately attempting to try and listen to what Karen and Foggy were laughing about.

Two more weeks. That’s all you have to do.

In two weeks, Matt and Elektra will be married, and that’ll be that. They’ll live forever in their New York penthouse, fighting criminals and having beautiful children. That is their fate, and you’ll give your best man speech at their wedding.

All will be well, and you can bury your feelings deep down under alcohol and other women. No one will ever know what you really think of the happy couple.

You’re happy when Matt beats her at pool and they head back over to your table, where they absolutely hang over each other.

“We’re gonna head out.” Elektra says, a slightly drunken smile on her face. Matt hums and presses a kiss to her cheek.

“Meeting with the florist tomorrow.” Matt tells you all.

“I’m going to grab another drink,” You announce, and look at them. “One for the road?” Matt smiles at you, and for a moment, you think he must know.

“I’ll come grab one with you.” He turns to Elektra to ask if she wants one, but she shakes her head.

“I have to finish this one.”

So, you and Matt head over to the bar, his hand on your arm. You wonder if he knows.

“You seem distracted,” he tells you, and you figure you’re caught.

“Just working on my best man speech. It’s all up here.” You tap your forehead. You order two shots for the pair of you and take them quickly with your best friend. “Getting excited?”

“Yeah, it’s just kind of crazy. I’m nervous, is all.. And she seems to be totally fine with the whole thing.”

You bite back a bitter comment about both of their commitment issues.

“I think she’s just as nervous as you are.”

“I can hear heartbeats. Trust me, she’s not.”

“But you’re in love with her, right?”

If you weren’t so drunk, maybe you would catch his moment of hesitation.

“Yeah.”

“Then what more do you need?”

“You’d marry someone just because you’re in love with her? That’s all you need?”

Not just someone. You know who you’d marry.

“That’s all I need, Matty. You think too much. Have another shot.” He laughs at this and pats your shoulder.

“I think you’ve had enough.”

“Says you, I’m a bachelor, still.”

“So am I—For the next two weeks.”

“And yet,” a voice says behind you, “You’re still accounted for.” Elektra says, approaching the pair of you at the bar.

You both turn to her. You’re drunk enough so you don’t tense.

She hands Matt his jacket, and they link arms. Jealousy fills your mouth, and it tastes like venom.

“Elektra.” You smile and nod to her.

She says your name before adding, “Have a goodnight.”

“Goodnight.. Get home safe, Matt.” You say, smiling at them as they leave.

You turn back to the bar, where your smile falters. You take a seat, resting your head in your hands. You’re not drunk. That’s not what this is. When you look up, Josie is there and hands you another whiskey on ice and sends you this knowing wink.

Your face burns, and you nurse your drink. What did she know about your life? You only spent every Friday and sometimes Saturdays here. You sit there in your pity for a while, thinking about it all. You’ll plan a vacation for when they get home from their honeymoon. You’ll fuck someone you’ll never see again and by the time you get back home, you’ll be over it.

You’ll be the godfather to their first child; Matt will be the best man at your own wedding. You’ll live the rest of your life with this deep dark secret that no one, not even your best friend, will ever know.

Except, you forget that Karen and Foggy are in the bar too. They slide into the seats next to you and just look at you for a while.

“I might be tipsy, and I might not have super senses, but I can tell you’re looking at me. What is it?” You finally pick your head up and look at them.

“I figured it out.” Karen says.

You’re too drunk for this.

“Figured what out, Miss Page?” You ask.

“Me too,” Foggy adds. “And to think, you almost had us.”

“What?”

“The bachelor life. The one-night stands. The constant rotating door of girlfriends because you can’t have the one you actually want.” She continues.

You feel sick. How did they know?

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You say, as neutrally as possible but it comes out defensive.

Then Foggy says it.

“You’re in love with Elektra.”

And you stop. They think they have you. Then, you start laughing. Like a crazy person, like it’s the funniest thing you’ve ever heard. God, it’s so dumb. You’re just that good at hiding it.

“Nice try, guys.”

“We saw the way you were looking at her while they were playing pool! That’s why you’ve been acting so weird since they got engaged.” Foggy reasons. You know what it looks like.

You took another sip.

“That’s because I’m not in love with her,” Elektra is intelligent, beautiful, and funny. Anyone would be lucky to have her, you’re sure. But you hate that she’s happy for another reason. “It’s because I’m in love with Matt.”

• • •

You’re nineteen years old. You work at a pizza place between semesters, with Matt often coming to visit you. You’re best friends, and he likes to come in, grab a slice and a diet coke, have you take your break with him, and then leave.

One day, he’s late to do this routine and an older coworker says to you, “Where’s your boyfriend?”

Your face burns.

“He’s not my boyfriend, asshole! I’m not gay, I wouldn’t ever dream of it!” You had said, a story you’ve told others and yourself so many times that it doesn’t feel like a lie anymore.

Matt walks in a few minutes later.

The truth is, if you’re honest with yourself, you’ve had feelings for Matt for a long time. Ever since you met him at church one Sunday, you’ve felt this need to be closer to him, to be with him all the time.

You knew what it was then, just like you know now. And just like now, you hated yourself for it.

But it got worse over the years, in a way that you just couldn’t push down like you had done for so many other people.

You became a nurse and when Matt became Daredevil, he used this fact to his advantage. And for a long time before this, you were able to keep how you felt about him at bay. You were able to just be his best friend, and nothing more.

But he crawled into your window one night, drunk on pain and whimpered as he asked you to stitch him up. By the time you were done, he laid there half naked on your couch, and your hands were covered in his blood.

You felt guilty for wanting him while he lay there, wounded. But in another way, you felt baptized, relieved that you were allowing yourself to accept a truth that you had denied for so many years.

And it got worse from there.

After admitting to yourself that you had feelings for him, it became prevalent that there was no going back.

You stopped by the office for lunch this one time and you walked into his office to see him lounging casually at his desk, tie half undone, sleeves rolled up, and hair slightly disheveled. You scolded yourself for being so into him.

And then he got back together with Elektra.

For a while, you figured this was a good thing. A great thing, even. Matt would date Elektra and you could move on, maybe admit to yourself that you liked guys and start dating more of them.

And it worked, for a little bit. It was easier to not love him when he was around Elektra because of how obviously happy he was with her.

Then they got engaged.

You were so angry at yourself for letting it happen, so angry at yourself for not saying anything, angry at him for not noticing, angry at him for not wanting you.

So, you started to date other girls.

And this is how you lived for so long, dating women you didn’t like in favor of burying the immense love you felt for your best friend. Until last week, when you broke up with your girlfriend because you just couldn’t take it anymore.

There would be no telling Matt, sure, but there would be no telling anyone how in love with him you were, there would just be you, coming out and dating men that eased the longing for him.

Until that night at the bar, when Foggy and Karen catch you in this vulnerable state.

They walk you home from the bar that night, as you slip into a drunker and drunker mind. You won’t remember anything after that confession in the morning.

Karen hands you your pajamas and a glass of water. She helps you into bed and holds you as you cry.

“Will he ever know how much I love him?” You ask, drunk and in a different pain Matt was in that night you stitched him up.

Karen shushes you gently and tells you she’ll call you in the morning.

You don’t remember saying that in the morning. All you know is that you’ve made an immeasurably stupid mistake by telling them.

• • •

On Monday, you have off because you worked a 12-hour shift the night before.

Foggy sends you a text asking you to bring them dinner while they work on some cases.

You oblige, ready to push down your feelings until the next time you’re drunk.

But when you get there, you don’t see Matt. You assume he’s in another room, grabbing coffee. You hold up their dinner.

“Hey guys, I brought Chinese.” You tell them, sitting at the table after handing them the bag. You lean back in your seat, keeping your cool.

“Why didn’t you tell us you’re in love with Matt?”

You snap back up.

“I’m sorry, can you be a little more discrete, considering the man has super hearing?!”

Karen rolls her eyes.

“He’s not here. He left a little while ago to go pick up his tux.”

Your jaw clenches, jealousy sewing the hinges shut.

“I didn’t even realize you were into guys.”  Foggy says.

“That was intentional. I never really.. developed feelings for any other guys. Matt is just..” You look down at the chopsticks you’ve been twirling in your fingers. “I just see him and there’s nothing I want more than to just have him, nothing more than to just beg him to want me.”

Karen and Foggy both know the feeling.

Because it’s no secret that Matt is this alluring force of nature especially when it comes to his charisma and determination. Everyone either wants him or wants to be him, and its why Elektra is so perfect for him. They’re similar people.

And who are you? Some nurse who can’t even admit when he’s got it bad for his friend.

“You should tell him before the wedding.”

You scoff at the idea.

“And ruin our friendship? Ruin his wedding day? I’d rather see him happy and oblivious than lose him completely.”

But Karen and Foggy know you well and can see how this is starting to wear on you. You’re losing yourself grieving something that could never have been.  

“You owe it to him and to yourself.”

“I don’t. I know you guys’ care, and I appreciate it. But there isn’t anything to do. Matt and Elektra are going to get married because they love each other and that’ll be that.” You tell them. “Matt won’t ever know how I feel, and I’ve made peace with that. He wouldn’t want me and I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

“But how do you know—” Karen starts, but you cut her off.

“Matt’s never expressed any interest in men, and to my knowledge he’s never been with any.”

Then, Foggy says something that haunts you.

“That’s what we thought about you before Friday.”

And it rattles within you, all throughout your body and your brain.

It stays with you throughout the night, and into the next day.

You can’t get it out of your head.

Maybe you could tell him. Just tell him and add on if he doesn’t feel the same, to forget you ever said anything.

And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself hope.

You lay in bed that night and fall asleep thinking about it. About if he’ll say yes, if he’ll kiss you like you wanted him to.

You spend days with this thought, with it rattling around. One day you wake up and are greeted by your calendar and see that the wedding is the next day.

You’re sick with nausea at the thought and realize how horrible of an idea it would be to tell him.

You pretty much spend all day, sick, staring at your suit and thinking about how horrible it would be to watch Matt get married to someone who isn’t you. In the church where you met. Not even knowing how much you want him.

You contemplate your options.

You could go to Elektra, beg her to call off the wedding and let you have him.

You could fake being sick, leave the country and block his number.

You could tell Matt the truth.

You opt to call Karen.

“I don’t know what to do.” You say, this vulnerability in your voice that you wouldn’t show normally.

“Oh..” She says your name softly. “Do you love him?” She asks.

“Karen..”

“Do you?”

“Yeah. You know I do.”

“Then tell him that.”

“What if he wants nothing to do with that?”

“Then at least you know.”

And then you ask her the real question that terrifies you.

“What if he does?”

“What?”

“What if he wants me like I want him? What do I do then?”

She wants to ask you, who cares? If Matt wants you just as desperately as you want him, what matters after that? But she felt this way towards Matt Murdock once, so she knows how horrible it is. And she’s fallen in love with women she can’t have before, so she understands.

“Then let yourself be happy.” Is her answer.

• • •

The day of the wedding comes.

You think you might be more nervous than either of them.

You sit with Foggy and Matt in the basement of the church, sipping a whiskey. Matt has his scotch, and Foggy has his rum. The lot of you have rather distinguished tastes.

Matt looks so fucking good. Your heart races. Foggy sees your nervous look and finishes his drink, clearing his throat.

“I’m gonna go check in with Marci and see how everything’s going so far. We have to be up there in ten.” He reminds you. He turns and leaves.

You’re with Matt, alone in your feelings. He’s fixing his cuffs and tilts his head towards you.

“Why is your heart racing?” He grins. “I’m the one getting married.” You say nothing. You take another sip of your drink.

“You’re reading it all wrong.” You tell him. And that isn’t a lie. You’re on the verge of saying it.

“Whatever,” He chuckles. “Help me with my bowtie, please?” He hands you the untied bowtie and you take it. You take it and step towards him.

Your hands are shaking as you wrap the bowtie around his neck and tie it, with this gentleness reserved for only those who truly know you. You can feel his breath against your skin. It’s enough to make you lose your mind. Your fingers fumble with his bowtie, and when you’re done, you straighten it out a bit. He looks really good. He’s yet to close his suit jacket and put on his glasses, but he will soon.

“Matt..” You say softly. “You know I feel about you, right?”

He pauses.

“You’re my best friend.” He hums. “Of course, I do.”

Your hands rest on his shoulders. Your fingers twitch.

“No, It’s more than that.” You tell him. “I love yo—” You’re unable to finish your confession.

Because Matt is kissing you, his hands on your sides, and pushing you against the church basement wall. You melt into the kiss, your hands going up to cup his chin. You feel this swell inside of you, like your prayers have been answered.

Kissing this man you love; you’ve never felt closer to God.

He deepens the kiss, slipping his tongue between your lips and pressing his body against yours, ruining your perfectly unwrinkled suit.

He kisses you for a few moments more.

Then, he pulls away, but you bring him back for another one by his collar, and he happily obliges. Your hand goes up to the nape of his neck, playing with the ends of his hair. Then, he pulls away again.

“That was…”

He stands breathless before you.

“I know.” He finishes.

“What happens now?”

He has this confused look on his face.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what do we do next?” To you, it’s so obvious. He should go find Elektra, call everything off, figure out what it would look like to be in a relationship with you. He should say I love you back.

“I’m going to go upstairs and get married.” He says, like it should be the obvious answer.

“What? But you just—”

“I know what I did, but… I can’t…”

“You can’t? You just did.” You defend.

He grabs his glasses where he set them on the coffee table earlier.

“I’m sorry, but we just.. We can’t.”

“No! Not we, there is no we, right now, You can’t! I have been waiting for that for years and you kiss me like that, and you decide you can’t?” You spit out.

He nods.

“You’re right.” For a moment, you live in a world where you’ve convinced him. “There is no we.” He says and turns to the door to leave. You follow him, and before he can open the door, you’re grabbing him, turning him around. Your lips are against his as if to beg him to change his mind. He lets you think you’ve convinced him.

When he pulls away from the kiss, you whisper it out.

“I love you.” You say. “Please, don’t…”

He wants you to ask him not to get married. You won’t. He’d say no anyways.

He steps away from you, buttons up his suit jacket, fixes his bowtie and puts on his glasses.

“Come on, we have to go.” He tells you. He turns and steps out, grabbing his cane on the way.

He leaves you longing for more.

He might not ever give it to you, you realize.

The ceremony is beautiful, and these two will be happy together. It kills you. You watch your best friend get married after kissing him, and something in you is breaking all the while. You were wrong.  You should have told him earlier, you should have gotten over your fears, you should have kissed him so long ago.

You book a flight to the Bahamas for two weeks and take off work or as much time as you can. You just can’t watch the happy newlyweds. It’ll break you even more than it already is.

But at least you and Matt are still friends, right? That’s what this was all about? Keeping him in your life, even if it meant not having him in the way you wanted? You’re willing to give up your happiness if it means he’ll stay in your life.

You’re frustrated, too, especially because the kiss did nothing to deter your attraction, it just makes you want him in such a way that makes you sick.

You’re in love with Matt Murdock and he knows it.

It’s a shame his wife doesn’t.

#matt murdock #matt murdock angst #matt murdock fic #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock hurt/no comfort #matt murdock imagine #matthew murdock #netflix daredevil #daredevil #karen page #elektra natchios #foggy nelson #male!reader #no use of y/n

[undertheorangetree]

Love in the Dark

Summary- Aemond must speak with his lover following the events at Storm’s End

Warnings- MDNI. Female reader. Angst. Hurt/no comfort. Unhappy ending. Thoughts of war, death and sex. Reader is from the Reach. Aemond is being a dick.

Author's Note- This came to me in the car while I was blasting Love in the Dark by Adele so I’ve decided to make it everyone else’s problem. It’s just a little guy so this excerpt is short and the full thing is on AO3 in the link below :)

dividers created by @firefly-graphics

Though they are not stained, Aemond can feel the blood on his hands. Rainwater has been the only thing to soak through his clothes, gone cold with the wind chill, but it may as well be blood. Hot, red blood, coating his hands, staining his clothes.

It had been an accident, that much he knows. Some convoluted attempt to gain the upper hand and frighten his bastard nephew that had gone horribly wrong. Some dark part of himself thinks that perhaps Lucerys deserved it, but that is masked by a sickening twist in his gut. Shame, guilt, horror. The realm will be plunged into war now, that much he is sure of. Truthfully, he knows it was inevitable, despite what his mother wanted. War was always going to be how this ended, but there is something akin to guilt eating away at him now, knowing that he is the one who has brought it upon them.

He had not truly been in control of himself when he came here. It was as if he was possessed as he made his way through the secret passages and into her rooms. It is the middle of the night, she is fast asleep and curled into the plush of her pillow, and yet here he stands, watching over her like a spectre. He isn’t sure how long he has been standing here. It feels wrong and he almost turns and makes his way back into the passage, to put as much distance between them as he can, but then her eyes open, blinking up at him blurrily. She is still half asleep and in that daze but still, she smiles at him, so affectionately that he thinks his heart may burst. He does not deserve her affection, to ever see that smile again, and he is almost relieved when it morphs into confusion, brows drawing together as she notices his appearance.

Slowly, still stunted by sleep, she pushes the quilts away and stands from her bed. He sucks in a heavy breath as she comes toward him, clad only in a nightgown. It is one that he has gifted her and he does not know if he can take the sight of her in it. Her hands come up, cupping his face for a moment and he closes his eye, relishes in the feeling of her skin against his own, warm against the chill. They leave him far too quickly, running over his neck, his shoulders, wrapping around his arms and tugging him closer. He sucks in a breath as she moves him but he does not dare touch her. He will not stain her with this blood. It is his alone.

The confusion on her face is apparent, voice flooded with a concern he does not know if he deserves. “You’re soaking wet. What-”

“I killed Lucerys.” The words come out of him without permission. He still does not know why he has come here, not really. For comfort, maybe. To speak the words aloud and make them true. To reveal the truth of it to someone kind as when word spreads in the morning he will never be treated with a tender hand again. “He arrived at Storm’s End not long after I did with demands from his mother. I- we, Vhagar and I- followed him out into the rain and… and I killed him.”

The horror on her face is apparent immediately. Her hands freeze where they are on his arms, face dropping and whole body going rigid. For a moment he thinks she is about to retreat, to put as much distance between herself and a kinslayer as possible. But then her hands tighten on his sleeves and she lifts her face to look him in the eye.

“The storms there are legendary. If you were both out flying in poor conditions, no one could blame you if-"

“I meant to.”

He doesn’t know why he says that. He hadn’t. At least, he does not think he did. Perhaps a part of him- one full of anger and malice- had been the only part of him Vhagar could feel and she had acted on that deep hidden urge within him. As it had been Vhagar who had truly acted and that was something no one could ever know. No matter what others think of him now, they cannot know he lost control of his dragon, that she acted without his word and that he could do nothing but sit helpless upon her back and watch. That would be worse, he thinks, to look weak in that way. A dragonrider was a god among men, a dragon a weapon more powerful than any other, and he cannot afford to look weak. Not even to her.

Suddenly the reason for his arrival here is obvious. It is clear now, excruciatingly so, what will happen. He has brought war upon them all, has condemned them all to a fate worse than death. The realm will be plunged into chaos, but he could spare her from it. If she were far from it all, she will not suffer the consequences of his actions. And perhaps that will be enough for him, to see her safe.

Read the rest here

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #Aemond Targaryen angst #Aemond angst #Aemond Targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen #hotd #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon

[happilychee]

thinking about aromantic lucy

I saw a terf saying aspec people aren't actually queer so fuck them here's aromantic lucy heartfilia

cw: a few mentions of internalized arophobia

lucy who doesn't know that the word love exists until she reads it in one of the few fairytale books in her father's extensive library. lucy who doesn't quite get the kissing and the physicality and the fiery proclamations, but thinks that it's an okay price to pay for someone to be so passionate for her. to choose her and care about her, like her mother did before she passed.

lucy, who's eight years old and crying after another argument with her father, who summons aquarius and asks "do you love me?" aquarius feels her blood pressure rise, but seeing the broken look in her wielder's watery eyes, she decides to drop the snark. "I do, kid." "does that mean you wanna kiss me?" aquarius almost smacks lucy over the head.

lucy who doesn't quite understand the difference between how she cares for her spirits and how she felt about her mom. lucy who cares deeply for everyone who's important to her, who thinks that aquarius could just as easily be her knight in shining armor as the storybook prince. lucy who reads romance books because she wants someone like that in her life. lucy who's never had any friends besides aquarius. lucy who thinks it must be nice to have someone choose you, care about you, protect you. lucy decides that that's what love is.

lucy who's old enough to know she doesn't like her father. lucy who's so confused when she hates him but still cares about him. lucy who's old enough to run away from home but too young, too young.

lucy who joins fairy tail and has no idea what to expect. lucy who's startled by her new friends' openness and easy acceptance of her. lucy who blushes when natsu throws an arm around her, who feels warm and fuzzy when gray guides her by the small of her back, who has a lopsided grin on her face when erza links arms with her as they walk. lucy who suddenly thinks that she's in love with three people at once and panics (her storybooks never mentioned that!!).

lucy who turns to who she can confidently call her best friend, levy mcgarden, for help. levy sits her down with a cup of hot chocolate and cookies. they talk for hours about sexuality and attraction; lucy sleeps over that night. the word that sticks out the most in her mind is aromantic.

lucy who gets drunk at a party and gets a little too close to cana, and suddenly they're in cana's apartment, making out like there's no tomorrow. lucy who feels guilt creep up in the morning because she knows cana and gray and loke have something going, and she might've just ruined it. lucy who tears up when cana laughs because she's so, so confused. cana's expression morphs into concern and she wipes away her friend's tears, warm skin on skin. cana who tells lucy that what she does with gray and what she does with loke doesn't restrict her from what she does with other people. "we talked about it, I promise." cana reassures her. then, leaning in with a sexy smirk on her face, she whispers, "besides, they're probably jealous I took you home first~" the rush of heat is enough to make lucy's mind go blank with joy.

lucy who shyly asks cana about her relationships and learns so much she feels like her head is going to explode. lucy who has a crisis about her storybooks and her ideal romances. she's never going to have that, she realizes. it feels like someone's scooped out her chest.

lucy whose feelings ebb and flow like the tide. she's not used to this. being so... different. her storybooks are scattered across the floor, thrown in an angry fit. her door is locked, but her window isn't, and that's how natsu gets in. "you okay, luce? we haven’t seen you in a while."

the dam breaks. lucy sobs in natsu's arms, and all she can think is that this is the exact type of hurt/comfort scene she loves in her stories. she wishes she were normal, so she could love normally, so she could love natsu the normal way and be done with it. she doesn't realize she's talking out loud.

natsu cups her face, onyx eyes boring into chocolate ones. he squishes her cheeks together, the way he does when he thinks she's overthinking something. and then, natsu breaks through her entire crisis with three little words.

"does it matter?" he furrows his brow. "you're lucy, and I'm natsu, and I care about you." "but- I don't feel romantic attraction-" natsu huffs, frustrated that lucy's not getting something that's apparently obvious to him. "luce. I care about you, and I trust you, and I want to take care of you and protect you. who cares about anything else?" lucy blinks once, twice, and then she's sobbing again. natsu panics, because he knows he can be blunt and dismissive sometimes, but lucy barrels into him, clutching onto his scarf tightly.

"you care about me?" she whispers in a child's voice. that's more important to her than anything. romantic, platonic, the gray area in between, none of it matters as long as natsu cares.

natsu tightens his grip, wondering who he has to pummel for making his girl feel that way. "course I care about you, dummy. I'd burn down the world for you. and so would erza and gray and cana and everyone else."

lucy who has a really hard time moping when natsu's there every step of the way, trying to cheer her up. erza and gray show up, too, and it's hard to stay sad when she's being tickled by erza while gray cooks dinner and kicks natsu out of her kitchenette.

lucy who feels the hollow fill with something warm and gooey when erza gives her a hug, confessing that she often has trouble figuring out how she feels about anything. lucy laughs when erza tells her about the shenanigans that have happened when she doesn't pick up on someone flirting with her but gray and natsu do. she feels all fuzzy when gray leans against her, telling her that he feels the same way. his hand plays with hers, and she thinks it's nice how well they slot together.

lucy realizes when natsu falls asleep in her lap, arms wrapped protectively around her waist. lucy realizes when gray falls asleep at her side, erza tucked to his chest. lucy realizes that her friends make her feel like she's on top of the world, and she doesn't need a fairytale prince when she's got fairy tail.

#lychee writes #this is a topic near and dear to my heart #also this is very much based on my own experience as an aro person #I feel so smart for the last line LOL #if anyone tries to “uhm actually🤓☝️” on this post I'm blocking on sight #this is for the aros!!!! the arospecs!!! #fairy tail #nalu #sort of #in an aro way #fairy tail headcanons #lucy heartifilla #aquarius #natsu dragneel #gray fullbuster #erza scarlet #levy mcgarden #cana alberona #aromantic #asexual #aroace #arospec #acespec #aspec

[cock-holliday]

I think something extremely worth considering about the ICJ hearing is this: most of what feels underwhelming and angering about the ruling is irritation at the legal system and not at the ruling.

So, people pissed at the ICJ are right, and people saying “no this is actually a huge win” are also right.

It’s something that I, someone with a law degree, fucking loathe about the law.

Half a year back, a Montana judge ruled in a landmark case that companies were infringing on the right of the youth to have a clean environment. It was an historic move, and came after substantial long-haul efforts. It seemed like an impossible task and yet it was accomplished.

It’s also largely symbolic. Anyone who didn’t declare this the end of the climate crisis was labeled a doomerist, but functionally…what is going to be done now?

As of Jan 2024, not much!

The ruling followed up with “so now we turn to the state to address it.” And the state of Montana is red as all hell and full of climate denialism. So then what? If Montana doesn’t want to *do* anything, what then? Will the state be punished? Injunctions? Fines? Anything?

When you are fired from your job unjustly, you must prove you were fired unjustly, which can take years. If they decide the company was right (or maybe not wrong) to fire you, you get nothing. If they find that you’re right, you just get money. Which helps you, undoubtedly! Does it hurt the company? No. So for as long as they are profitable they can “afford” to violate worker rights.

Megacorporations engage in slave labor and generally when found to participate incur fines and prommy not to do it again. Companies like Heineken have faced lawsuits ranging from intentionally misleading consumers, unlawful dismissals, environmental destruction, slavery, and more. Companies like Coca Cola have murdered workers abroad staging strikes. Not murdered as in a word used to make their disregard hit your ears appropriately, I mean sent militias to gun down. They were found guilty of this in court. The company was found to be running death squads. Can you still buy a coke at the store or was the company shut down?

If you steal a dollar from the register at work you can be fired and go to jail. If your boss steals thousands from your paycheck, it’s an oopsie and if you take the time to prove it, you just get your money back. If you don’t get fired for looking, also.

The law is a tool of subjugation and on occasion we can study the tools and bend them like the bottom of a chain-link fence to let someone escape. But it is not a force for total liberation.

The law will never be capable of achieving liberation because the law is what impedes the liberation. It is legal to use slave labor in prison, it is legal to starve you, it is legal to kick you down and if you dare bite the hand that slaps you then it is legal to put you down.

The UN special rapporteur for torture came to a “school” in Massachusetts that was abusing autistic kids and the UN condemned that school for torture. The school is still operational today. The FDA said you had to stop torturing kids during covid and then covid “ended” so now all bets are off. There are people fighting against it every day but if someone burned down that building and sent all the kids home, the state and federal government who ignores the torture would descend upon that arsonist like a tidal wave.

The law is…underwhelming, disappointing, unfair, because it is not made for us, the people. It is made by those in power to keep their power, and little tweaks can undoubtedly be the difference between life and death for some, but it is never going to free us all. The law cannot be ignored as a factor in liberation but it is not a source.

That’s not what the law is.

Freedom is sought elsewhere.

#LJsm #child abuse #torture mention

[luimagines]

You Ruffle/Pat His Hair Part 3

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2

Part 3 will include Twilight, Warrior and Hyrule.

Content under the cut!

Twilight

“Well hello there, Darlin’. Lovely day we’re having.” Twilight strides up next to you. He’s without his layers and pelt.

You snort, half tempted to push him away. “Yes, I suppose it is, honey bunch. Any particular reason the winds decided to blow you my way?”

You looks up from what you were doing and raise an eyebrow. Twilight takes a second too long to answer and your face drops. “Don’t tell me Wild did something again... I thought we agree that he was your responsibility when he was dealing with Legend and Hyrule. If he’s with Warrior or Four, then I take the burden.”

Twilight snorts and shakes his head. He sits down next to you and crosses his ankles. “Nothing like that. From what I’ve heard he’s with Wind and Sky.”

You nod. “Oh, good. Then whatever happens will fall to Time.”

“Yup!”

You decide to relax next to him since he’s taken the initiative. “In which case, I believe that puts us both in the clear. But you still haven’t answered my question.”

“Can’t it just be that I want your company without some ulterior motive?” Twilight answers with a lazy smile.

You turn to face him head on and give him your sweetest smile. “No.”

“Ouch. Tough crowd.” Twilight laughs. “Well you better start believing it. I don’t want anything from you.”

You roll your eyes. “Then you’re hiding from someone. Who is it? I’ll yell out your location.”

Twilight puts a hand over his heart and pretends to fall backwards. “You wound me. I’m only here to enjoy the nice afternoon weather. Must it be any more complicated than that.” 

You narrow your eyes playfully. “And if I still don’t believe you?”

“Well there’s not much I can about that.” Twilight grins and lays backwards. His hand lace together behind his head and he sighs. “But if you’re really curious then I’m avoiding that Captain. So if you can keep your pretty little voice down that would incredibly helpful.”

His admission shocks you and you snort in reflex. “That bad?... Alright, alright. I won’t say anything. You’re safe here with me.”

You pat him on the head and return to what you were doing prior.

“Thank you.” Twilight sounds genuine.

Wow, it must have been really bad. Or at least very awkward.

“Do I even want to know what it is?” You tease, poking Twilight with your foot. “You’re not one to shy away from anything. And here you are. Hiding.”

“I’m not hiding.” He pouts. “I’m recuperating.”

“From what?”

“A headache.”

“From what?” You grin widens.

“From thinking about the problem Warrior no doubt wants me to tackle.”

“Rancher!” Warrior calls in the distance.

You poke Twilight again. “Duty calls.”

“No way.” He frowns. You smirk and in a deep breath. Twilight jumps up and puts a hand over your mouth. He glares. “You promised.”

Shrugging, you gently push him away. “Scardy cat.”

Warrior 

“Warrior, you’re going to collapse. Sit down before you hurt yourself.” You sigh, already tired of his shenanigans.

The man in question, grunts in reply and keeps going forward. As if to prove your point, he missteps and his foot slides against the rock. He hits his knee on the way down and nearly falls over.

“Link, please.” You put your hand son his shoulders. “This is a but much, don’t you think?”

“We have to meet the others.” He says. “We have to regroup.”

“It’ll be a lot harder to regroup if you’re unconscious.” You say, poking him in the arm.

The movement sets him off course and he stumbles once more.

“That’s it.” You grab his arm and pull him the side. “Sit. I’m not taking no for an answer.”

He tries to fight you, but he doesn’t have the strength to stand up any more when you pull him down with you. He collapses like a card tower and crumples on top of you.

You didn’t expect his weight to land on top of you, but take it for what it is. You throw your arms over him. He’s going to stay there until he either takes a nap or until he feels better. Which ever comes first.

“You are impossible.” You say, beating his side like a drum. “Do you only stop when you drop dead?”

“I can’t give up like this.” He turns his head away from you. “I need to- we need to get to the others.”

His eyes begin to close against his will. You can see him fight it. He tries to jerk himself awake. He has to stay vigilant and to completely the mission. You sigh. “This is not giving up. This is making sure we’re still held together in one piece. If we’re lucky, they wouldn’t go anywhere. I bet they’re looking for us as well. There’s nothing to gain if we injure ourselves.”

Warrior hums again, succumbing to his exhaustion. You’re tired too, to be honest. but Warrior was always an early riser and he had spent the earlier portion of the day protecting you and your belongings as you slept.

You run your hands through his hair in soft soothing motions. He falls asleep in within that very second.

“Idiot.” You shake your head.

Knowing that he’s only going to wake when he gets the sleep that he’s lacking, you ruffle his hair roughly. He would have never allowed you to that while he was conscious but it feels nice to do so now.

He grunts again and you think that you’ve woken him up for one terrifying second.

You return to petting him softly, fixing the very hair you had just messed up. “Sorry, sorry.” You whisper. “There, there. Good as new. Don’t worry about it.”

He doesn’t respond anymore.

You sigh and lean back. He let you sleep in earlier and he made sure that you were safe all the while.

It’s only fair that you repay the favor.

Hyrule

“So you take the flower like this and then, you move the stem this way, you see?” You move what you had in your hand to show Rulie the chain in your hands.

Hyrule looks at the one he has and tries to copy what you did. It doesn’t quite match up with what he sees, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to give up anytime soon.

“This is harder than they want you to think.” Hyrule mutters under his breath. “How do you do this so easily?”

“Practice, I guess.” You giggle. Hyrule had to stick his tongue out in concentration.

He still doesn’t get it quite right.

“Well then you’re going to have to show me again because I think I’m doing the wrong thing at this point.” Hyrule pouts, undoing what he just did.

Ever patient, you undo your just the same and scoot closer so that he can see what you’re doing with your fingers to get the pant to behave the way you want it to. “You need to grab it like this if you want it to twist without breaking. Otherwise it’s never going to bend the other way.”

Hyrule blows a raspberry. “I think it broke earlier.”

“That would make it a lot harder to get it right, yes.” You try to hold back your smile. you can see that he’s getting increasing frustrated but it’s just funny to you. “We can take a break?”

“No, no, no, I’m fine.” Hyrule grabs another flower and tries again from the beginning. “I can do it.”

“It’s not about whether you can or can’t.” You raise an eyebrow, Regardless you wait for hi t get the point where you are now before you show him for a third time. “Ready?”

“Almost.” Hyrule sighs, trying to get it right once more.

“You know it’s not really a big deal if you get it or not. My sister has tried for ages but the plants never seem to work with her.” You explain gently. “If anything, they always seem to fight her.”

“I can do it.” He says instead and you back off.

You still find yourself biting your lip to keep your grin at bay. It’s not working but it’s cute that he’s trying so hard to do this with you.

You pat his head. “There, there. You’ll get it soon enough, Link.”

Hyrule frowns as his pout deepens. “I’m not a child. You don’t need to pat my head in consolation.”

“Fine.” You snort, mussing up his hair. “This better?”

“If Warrior yells at me for lack of up keep again, I’m blaming you.” Hyrule sticks his tongue out again. he hasn’t even looked at you once. His full attention is on the little flower chain before him.

You shake your head, fixing his hair up anyway. “Stick in the mud.”

Hyrule turns, finally and sticks his tongue out at you. You return the gesture. “There. Did I do it right?”

You grin. “It’s perfect.”

It’s not. But he’s earned it at this point, don’t you think?

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #lu x reader

[angelsdean]

sorry i'm still thinking meta-ly about deancassie's goodbye. like first there's what i said in the linked post. dean notably isn't the one driving in this scene. it's sam behind the wheel, steering them away. because leaving cassie again is painful. it's the last thing he wants to do. and dean is someone who struggles to do the leaving when it comes to the people he loves. at four years old he establishes this sort of idea about love and leaving. he tells mary as he comforts her after john left, "i love you too. and i'll never leave you." he sees how john leaving hurts mary and dean promises to never be the one who leaves. and while, later, his life circumstances often get in the way, he continues to struggle to do the leaving. and it hurts him deeply when he gets left.

so, this goodbye, he can't be in the driver's seat. he just can't do it. and then on the road, sam asks, "You meet someone like her, doesn't it makes you wonder if it's worth it? Putting everything else on hold, doing what we do?" and dean just smiles and pointedly does not answer. because we know what his answer would be. we know already, despite the facade he puts up, that dean doesn't really want to be doing this. he scoffs at the apple pie picket fence life in a "the lady doth protest too much" sort of way. we know he had his own dreams, desires. he wanted to go to college too. he wanted a normal life. so, if he could just put it all down? if he could stop hunting and not feel guilty about it and build a life with someone he loves, would he? yes, of course, yes. but he doesn't feel he has that choice. he still feels bound to this duty, this mission. so what's the point in answering that question when the answer won't change anything? instead he puts on his sunglasses (and emotional distancing tactic--literally cutting eye contact, shutters closing) and reclines back and tells sam to wake him up when it's his turn to drive. (because he still can't drive yet. they're still too close. he could easily turn the car around. he doesn't trust himself not to)

but, back to the other part of deancassie's goodbye that really gets me. it's dean's insistence that they will see each other again (even if we know this to be false, being the omniscient audience we are with the power to see into the future.) because dean has.....faith. dean got his crash course in faith in the previous episode and now, well, he's a bit of a believer in things that seem impossible. cassie says she's a "realist" and "doesn't see much hope" for them. but dean says he's seen stranger things. cassie says "goodbye" with an air of finality but dean responds with, "I'll see ya, Cassie....I will." determined and believing every word. because, again, dean can't bear to leave the people he loves. but if he must or if circumstances / other powers force them apart then he'll do everything he can to find his way back to them.

he is literally, literally the kind of person who does not say "goodbye" but "see you later." a fact that is made all the more heart-wrenching when you think about 15x18 too. "why does this sound like a goodbye" dean asks, his whole body filling with dread. "because it is." and dean pleading, "don't do this, cas." and then cas, like cassie, says "goodbye" with an air of finality. and what do we know about dean? well, he doesn't accept goodbyes. "I'll see ya....I will."

anyways dean's last goodbye with his first love and dean's last goodbye with his last love, two people that also share very similar names, is just. well. it sure does make me feel some kind of way.

#mymeta #vics spn rewatch #dean studies #spn 1x13 #spn 15x18 #parallels #deancassie #deancas

[skyloftian-nutcase]

"Shouldn't he rest, though?"

"If he stays in bed too long, he'll only grow weaker."

Link turned his face away from the voices, eager to slip back into the peaceful inky black of slumber. His head was hurting too much for this.

"Wake up, little hero."

A hand shook him slightly, pushing his shoulder further into the comfortable mattress. The movement sent a spike of pain up his neck into his skull, further articulating the headache he was desperately trying to ignore. With an angry, sharp inhale, he opened his eyes.

When he turned to view the person in question, he remembered his situation.

Huffing, he rasped, "What do you want?"

"I don't need your attitude, kid," Nabooru quipped lightly. "This is for your own good. You need to get up, and you need to eat and drink."

Link came up with a few snarky responses but found he was too tired to argue the matter. He let her pull him into a seated position, and he shifted his feet to the edge of the bed hesitantly. The last time he'd tried this he'd nearly passed out. He wasn't even sure how long ago that had been at this point - the exhaustion finally seemed to have won out over his will to escape.

Did that make him pathetic or intelligent? Zelda had always pushed herself so hard and never seemed to stop. He should do better.

Gritting his teeth, the captain pushed himself to stand. Nabooru had steadying hands on him, helping him shakily take a few steps towards the door.

Alertness came to him an instant, alongside hope. He was moving! He could survey his situation better if he let her guide him outside, he could find a way to escape the Gerudo stronghold, perhaps even retrieve the Triforce that Ganondorf had stolen!

Air moved on his other side, the only hint he had of someone moving beside him before an unsettling face invaded his personal space.

"Oh, so the wretched Hero is up and about now?" Ghirahim purred, lips curling in an unsettling smile.

"You're in the way," Nabooru said flatly.

The demon lord huffed, straightening and crossing his arms. "Must you ruin the moment, woman? You don't understand how long I've waited for this."

"Your rivalry is with the spirit, not the child," Nabooru said firmly. "Leave him be."

Link blinked, confused. With the spirit?

Oh. The Spirit of the Hero. The same person Cia had fallen into an obsession with. The same person who Zelda looked to with hope and conviction and dedication. The person who was supposed to be him, the person he strove to be every day.

Why... why were they talking about it like it was someone else?

Link scoffed. "I'm not a child. I am the bearer of the Hero's Spirit. If it's a fight you want--"

The rest of the captain's statement was cut off with a yelp as Nabooru swatted at Ghirahim and dragged Link away. "That's enough of this nonsense. I took you out here to get fresh air, not pick a fight with the first idiot you find."

"Idiot?!" Ghirahim repeated, affronted, though he was left behind by the pair as Link was practically carried outside the compound.

It was evening outside, Link realized, making him feel all the more disoriented. How long had it been since his capture? How long had been asleep? It had certainly been brighter when he'd encountered Ganondorf.

As he was guided to sit in a pile of cushions, a waterskin placed into his hands, Link saw a group of Gerudo women dancing and laughing. Others were playing music, and a crowd was clapping along. On a raised platform sat their king, also enjoying the festivities, though much more solemnly than his warriors. Ganondorf's eyes flicked over to the captain a moment, studying him, and Link felt his skin crawl. He glared defiantly in return.

Ganondorf returned his attention elsewhere, and Link's brooding was interrupted when Nabooru snapped her fingers in his face.

"Drink," she ordered.

Reluctantly, Link complied. There was no point in not hydrating; he needed strength to find a way out of this place. After a few sips, his body suddenly registered just how utterly dehydrated he was, and he emptied it in a heartbeat.

Glancing to her left, Nabooru said, "Watch him."

Link looked to his right and saw another Gerudo warrior walk up beside him, sword drawn and held erect against the ground while her hands rested overtop the hilt.

"What do you people want from me?" he asked, his voice gaining some strength now that his throat wasn't quite so parched.

"I wanted to kill you," the woman grumbled, and Link recognized her as the last thing he saw before he was knocked out in battle. "But our king had other plans."

The captain once again glanced at the perpetrator of this entire mess, feeling himself shiver a little. What did such a monster want with him? He already had the Triforce, after all. Was Link needed for some kind of ritual?

Was he going to capture Zelda as well, then?

Wait... was Link bait?

He had to get out of here.

Nabooru returned quickly, a bowl of curry in her hands. She held it out to the captain, who hesitantly took it. The guard walked away silently.

"I don't suppose you can tell me why your king wants me alive," Link muttered, staring at the curry. He didn't really know how to feel about any of this at this point, except that he was most certainly on edge and wanted to get the hell away from here.

Nabooru watched him a moment, seeming to make a decision in her mind, and sat beside him to watch the dancers. The lively music didn't quite reach the cold atmosphere Link's dread generated, but the Gerudo woman at his side was a steady presence, somehow less intimidating than the others.

"You are the Hylian Hero," Nabooru said. "The Spirit of the Hero travels with you."

"I am the Hero," Link emphasized, feeling his ire rise. He had drawn the Master Sword, he had led troops into battle time and again, he bore the Triforce of Courage, and he was the one Zelda had chosen to wear the legendary garb.

"Our king is quite interested in you," Nabooru continued, ignoring his interruption. "I must confess, I didn't expect you to be so... young."

Rolling his eyes, Link looked away. "Many say that. Most don't live to regret it."

Nabooru laughed at that. "Spoken like a warrior filled with spirit and a thirst to prove himself. I admire your ability to fight, child. Don't doubt that. I started fighting around your age too. But don't forget your place. You are still young, and you know very little of the world outside of a battlefield."

"Am I going to learn about wartime strategy and politics here, then?" Link prodded, glancing back at her. "Am I being held hostage as a bartering chip?"

"My understanding of it is that you're being held to keep you safe," Nabooru answered unexpectedly, looking him in the eye with a seriousness he wasn't expecting. "But only the king knows his own plans. I just happen to be the leader of the Gerudo."

"I thought the king was?"

"He wasn't here until a few weeks ago," Nabooru replied, looking away. "Our people were mostly wiped out by Hyrule."

Link felt his throat go dry, and he had no words to say while simultaneously having so many in his mind.

What did she mean that Hyrule had wiped out the Gerudo? Had they attacked Hyrule in the past? A war between the Gerudo and Hyrule could explain why Link barely knew of their existence, and why that other guard wanted him dead. But what about the other statement, about keeping him safe? What kind of nonsense was that?

Ganondorf needed him for something, clearly. He needed him, and he knew Link was too powerful a soldier to keep in play in the war. He was crippling the Hyrulean army and preventing Link from dying so he could utilize him for something.

This had to do with the Triforce, didn't it? Link knew so little of the artifact, except for its origin story.

He wished Lana was here to explain the situation. He'd even take Impa.

Sighing, Link stared at his curry, his stomach growling but his appetite disappearing as his musings clouded his mind.

#writing #good ganondorf #hyrule warriors link #hw link #nabooru #ghirahim #hyrule warriors ganondorf #hw ganondorf #hyrule warriors #legend of zelda

[hollyethecurious]

CS AU: Pan Says... (9/?)

Summary: After waking up in a strange room with a naked stranger, Emma and Killian must endure the twisted game their kidnapper insists they play in order to gain provisions and avoid punishments.

A/N: Check it out, y'all! Another update from me! Lots of love to @ultraluckycatnd and @kmomof4 for their exceptional beta skills! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter as much as I did writing it!

Rated E / Also available on ao3 and ff.net / buy me a coffee / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me!  

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six  / Part Seven / Part Eight

Chapter Warnings: exhibitionism / voyeurism. role play.

Part Nine

“I don’t know who you are, or what sort of game you’re playing at, but this isn’t funny!”

Emma glanced at the monitor overhead, the timer quickly counting down the minutes she had left to try and convince David that she was really Emma, that she was alive, and in need of his help.

“David Robert Nolan, shut the fuck up and listen to me!” she yelled over the receiver.

“What did you just call me?”

“I called you by your full government name,” she said. “David Robert, after your father, Nolan. Or would you prefer I call you Charming like Mary Margaret does?”

“How do you know--”

“Because it’s me, David! It’s Emma! I’m alive and I need your help!”

“Emma?” he questioned over the line, the hope she knew he wasn’t sure he should dare to feel leaking into his tone. “Is it really you? How? Where are you? Where have you been? Who did they pull out of the--”

“Just listen, okay?” she interrupted as the time rapidly dwindled. “I don’t know who that woman was or how he faked my death, but I was abducted three weeks ago by someone who calls himself Pan. I was taken from outside the police station after dropping off a skip. I was tasered. I’m here with a man named Captain Killian Jones. He has a brother named Liam, who also was led to believe that Killian was missing for reasons other than kidnapping. I need you to find him. He’ll be trying to get a hold of you, because Killian just called him, too, and let him know what’s been going on.”

She flicked her gaze to Killian, still looking shell-shocked from the emotionally charged conversation he’d had with his brother. He’d wanted to stay by her side whilst she made her call, but she’d told him to go sit and take a moment. They’d be there for one another later. It was why they’d chosen to wait and make these calls before turning in for the night. So they could just lay in bed and hold each other in the aftermath.

“What has been going on?” David demanded, bringing Emma’s focus back to her brother. “Why would this Pan person take you? What has he… are you alright? Has he hurt you? Did you escape, is that why you’re calling now? Do I need to come get--”

“No, we haven’t escaped. We… we sort of… earned a reward. Look. It’s too much to explain right now. I’m going to give you some specs of the place we’re being held in. Write them down so you can give them to the police.”

Emma waited as David searched for a pen and paper, her heart thudding wildly in her chest as the timer continued to draw closer to zero.

“Okay. Go.”

Emma rattled off the information Killian had put together for them; the estimated size of the facility, features he’d been able to make out that might make the building distinguishable, and details about the different rooms (though she hadn’t told Killian about the medical suite she’d been in, and hated that she couldn’t tell him or David about the doctor, for fear of Pan’s threat against Killian’s pound of flesh) that might aid in their search. She also mentioned that there were others here, so perhaps they could find a link between their missing person cases and others with similar details.

“Got it,” David said. “What… what else can I do?”

“Nothing,” she said, her throat tightening and tears welling in her eyes. The carefully constructed fortifications she’d put in place in order to get through the call were crumbling fast, but she couldn’t fall to pieces just yet. “Just… Just know that I’m alive and that Killian and I need you to get the police looking for us again. And…”

“And?”

10… 9… 8… 7… 6… 5…

“And that I love you! I love you both!”

0… dial tone.

The receiver slipped from her hand and clattered against the concrete floor. She was pretty sure Killian returned it to the base before sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her to the bed. Laying her down gently, he crawled onto the bed beside her and gathered her in his arms. With the last of her strength, Emma pressed closer to him, molding their chests together and tucking her head beneath his chin. Long, quiet minutes stretched out with only their unified heartbeats filling the void, neither of them capable of saying much of anything until Killian broke the silence.

“He sounded destroyed,” he murmured, his tone flat and watery from the tears he’d shed after hanging up with his brother, and again as he’d held Emma while she spent hers into the front of his shirt. “Your brother sounded as though he’d been given a noble quest, while mine…”

“You told him not to beat himself up over it,” she reminded him. “To not dwell on the fact that he’d believed the lie Pan sent him from your email address.”

“Aye,” he sighed.

She knew he was running the conversation over in his mind. The way Liam had sounded ecstatic to hear from him, asking about his travels and when he thought he might return home. The way the line had gone silent after Killian had revealed the truth. The way his brother had sounded broken and utterly ashamed that he’d fallen for the trick, too eager to believe things had turned a corner for his brother, blinding him from seeing the cracks in the story that might have caused him to be suspicious enough to follow up.

Killian had spent most of the call comforting his brother and apologizing for the things he’d said when last they spoke, breaking open old wounds they had not the time to properly dress so they might begin to heal. Their time had gone so fast. He’d barely been able to convey the necessary details to him so that further action could be taken beyond the call before time ran out. She wasn’t even sure Liam had heard Killian tell him he loved him before the line had gone dead.

While her call to David had played out almost exactly as she thought it would, she knew Killian’s had not gone the way he’d wanted it to.

“At least they know now,” she said. “The truth is out there, and they’ll be looking for us again. That’s something at least.”

“Aye,” he agreed, though a bit hollowly. “That’s better than the alternative.”

“Hey,” she said, pulling back and lifting her gaze. When he didn’t meet hers right away she reached up and scratched her fingers through the stubble at his jawline. A huff left his chest and his eyes fell to hers.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get a chance to really clear the air with him. I know there were things you had to leave unsaid in order to get our message out, but…” She swallowed hard, willing back the fresh sob working its way up her throat. “Please don’t give up hope.” His eyes softened at the sound of her words catching and he buried his hand in the back of her hair. “I need you to help me stay optimistic here. I need you to tell me that we’ll still be able to tell them everything we didn’t get a chance to say to them today, because they’ll find us and we can say those words to their faces. Okay?”

“Emma, I…”

She could see his heart breaking in his expression and she chastised herself for guilt-tripping him, but… she meant what she said. She needed him to be strong with her right now.

“I’m sorry, love,” he said, holding her close to his chest once more. “Of course we’ll get that chance. We’ll have an entire lifetime to say all the things that need to be said. They’ll find us. Of that I’m certain. They’ll never stop fighting for us. And neither will I.”

“Good.”

~/~

Emma twisted and turned her torso in an attempt to find comfort, something that seemed to be an impossibility in the damned corset Pan had provided.

A corset that accompanied the wench costume she was expected to wear for tonight’s festivities. Festivities that made her stomach roll, or would have if the blasted corset hadn’t been cinched so tightly.

After a fitful night’s sleep and late morning meal, she and Killian had been escorted to different areas so they could prepare themselves as the evening’s entertainment. Per usual, her anxiety spiked when it became clear they were to be separated, and the spa-like environment where she would spend the day being pampered and prepped did little to calm her nerves.

The host of ladies who assisted in the waxing, facial, manicure, pedicure, massage, hair, and make-up services wore masks to obscure their identities and spoke in a language Emma could not identify. Although she attempted to question them individually, they either did not understand her, or had been instructed to pretend as such. The latter seemed more plausible given the furtive glances the ladies occasionally made towards the Lost One standing guard.

After a light meal, Emma was dressed in the wench costume; a more upscale version of the cheap, slutty knock-off one might find at a Halloween store. The women were dismissed and she’d been instructed to follow the Lost One, her trepidations spiking again as she padded down the corridor behind him. There were many twists and turns before they finally rounded a corner, revealing Killian standing in front of a set of double doors. Emma’s heart leapt at the sight of him and relief flooded her body.

Well, first relief, then… something else.

He was decked out in head to toe leather, his jawline manicured with an alluring amount of scruff and his eyes lined in a deep, rich kohl. His hair had been artfully tousled and his skin bronzed. Beneath the layers of black leather, he wore a smoke-like linen shirt, unbuttoned down to the v of his waistcoat, exposing a tantalizing amount of chest hair. The leather trousers were tight, but not so much as to appear painted on, leaving just a hint to the imagination of what lay beneath their laces.

“Swan?” he said, in an amused and sinfully deep tone. “See something you like, love?”

Now aware that her mouth had been hanging open, Emma closed it and swallowed hard before answering, “You look…”

“I know,” he quipped with a cheeky smirk and smugly lifted brow, earning him an eye roll before his gaze raked over her once more. “You cut quite the figure in that get up, I must say.”

“Cutting is right,” Emma groused, struggling against the tight confines of her outfit. “I can only imagine the impression this corset is leaving on my spleen.”

“Your discomfort is a cross I am more than willing to bear… especially after my earlier one.”

Emma raised her brows in response to his cryptic words and put-out tone.

Scratching behind his ear, the tip of which was becoming quite red, he confessed under his breath in a low mumble, “I’ve been manscaped.”

Her eyes widened, and although she knew better from her earlier perusal, they fell to his chest, ensuring herself that the thick blanket of hair remained untouched.

“Not there,” he said, exasperatedly. “Lower.”

Emma tucked her lips between her teeth to try and stifle her laugh. His disgruntled tone and expression were absolutely priceless, despite the circumstances.

“Well,” she said, placing her hand on his arm in commiseration. “That makes two of us.”

They shared a moment of joint amusement, until the sound of the doors opening pulled them back into reality, sobering their demeanors.

A Lost One waved them forward. This one, like the one who had stood guard over her throughout the day, was not either of the men who had been assigned to them previously. The ones who seemed to be connected to her and Killian, respectively, in some way.

With shoulders back and heads held high, they entered the theatre, hand-in-hand. The Lost One directed them to the platform and they were both caught off guard at the emptiness of the room.

“My guests will arrive in due course,” Pan’s voice echoed. “First, a few pre-performance instructions. Pan says…”

He started by pointing out the furnishings upon the platform: a leather chair, an antique writing desk, a chaise with several cushions, and a small side table with various toys, lubricants, restraints, and other items atop it, including a pair of domino masks and earbuds.

“Go ahead,” he insisted, “Pan says, each of you take a mask and an earbud. The mask will help obscure your identities and the earbud is how you’ll hear conversations and suggestions made by my guests.” After affixing their masks, they placed a bud in their ear. Pan’s voice was now, eerily, inside their heads. “You will only act on the suggestions that are accompanied by a green light that will illuminate along the back of the upper tier.”

Green light splashed against the back walls as an example before Pan continued. “Pan says you shall not speak unless instructed otherwise, and should only do so in character. I expect you to comply with the approved requests and show my guests a good time. Understood?”

“Aye,” Killian managed to utter. All Emma could do was nod, too choked with impending dread to speak.

“Good,” Pan crowed in their ear. “Pan says, get into character and have a good show.”

Before the doors could open, Killian swung Emma around to face him and pressed their foreheads together. “You and me,” he whispered, so low she barely heard him. “Just you and me, love.”

Emma closed her eyes and nodded, her forehead rubbing against his as she inhaled deeply. Opening her eyes, she connected her gaze with his, both of them silently giving the other permission to get into character and play out the charade: him, a fearsome pirate captain and her, his defiant wench captive.

Their audience finally filed in, initially paying them little attention, while greeting one another as they took their seats behind their screens. Emma took a seat of her own in the leather chair at the center of the platform as Killian casually leaned against the front of the desk with his arms and ankles crossed. It wasn’t until the stage began to spin, allowing all of the guests an opportunity to see the show from every vantage point, that the audience really took notice of them.

It was unnerving to hear their actual voices, and the comments being made as they assessed tonight’s entertainment. Emma kept her eyes squarely focused on Killian’s, attempting to block it all out, and had therefore almost missed the way his bejeweled finger was drumming against his arm, tapping out a rhythm against the leather.

You and me. You and me. You and me.

A greeting of welcome sounded out from the speakers and Pan took a moment to remind his guests to don their own earbuds and microphones, as well as set the stage for that evening’s entertainment.

As soon as the greenlight - literally - was given, a cacophony of voices flooded Emma’s ear as each of the guests threw out suggestions. Her stomach turned and tremors of dread rippled down her spine at the thought of what they would make her and Killian do, of the intimacies they’d witness, of the images they’d take away with them.

Reaching up, Emma adjusted her mask, assuring it was firmly in place. Closing her eyes, she tried to drown out the voices so she could collect herself. She wasn’t Emma Swan right now. She was a wench. A wench being held by a fearsome pirate captain. They weren’t seeing Emma. They wouldn’t be able to take anything from Emma Swan. All they would get from her tonight was a wench. A character. A fantasy. Nothing more.

The sharp tip of cold metal digging into the underside of her chin jolted her back to the here and now. Her eyes snapped open and Killian - no. Not Killian. The pirate captain - was standing before her with a dagger held to her throat. The room was flooded with green light, and Emma realized the first command had been issued. Swallowing against the pressure of the blade, Emma wet her lips, set her features, then lifted her chin in defiance.

“Seems she needs some convincing,” a guest said in her earbud. “I say we give the Captain free rein to order his wench about. Agreed?”

Others murmured their agreement and the green light illuminated once more. A wide, sinister smile lifted the corners of her Captain's lips and he twisted the dagger so the flat part of the blade rested beneath her chin.

“On your feet, wench,” he commanded, the blade prompting her to stand as he applied subtle pressure upward.

With a predatory gaze he followed the tip of the blade as it dragged across her skin, over the swell of each breast before dipping into the valley between. A shiver of desire coursed through her causing his lust-filled, darkened depths to flick up and meet her own.

He slipped the dagger beneath the laces of her corset and with several firm tugs cut her free from the restrictive garment. A relieved and rapturous exhale left her lungs, her breasts heaving from the joyous release.

“My, my,” Killian purred in his Captain’s voice. “Aren’t you a sightly bit of plunder.”

The tip of the dagger continued to tease and taunt her breasts, the tip swirling around and over each nipple until they were painfully erect and clearly visible through the thin fabric of her blouse. A few more tugs, slashes, and artfully placed cuts left her top in tatters, her breasts fully exposed to their audience and her pirate captor’s eyes. Eyes she chose to remain focused on as more suggestions were bandied about among the crowd.

A new suggestion was green lit, and the Captain stepped forward, closing what little space there had been between them. Trading their positions on the platform, he then pressed down on her shoulders and ordered, “On your knees for the Captain, wench.”

Emma lowered herself in front of him, a defiant, in-character, glare staring up at the smirk he gave her.

Sinking into the chair she had occupied a moment ago, he leaned back and crooked his finger at her. As she shuffled forward on her knees, his gaze hungrily taking her in, he commanded in a low and sultry tone, “Make good use of those hands and undo me laces.”

Her core clenched and she tried to remain in character as she reached up and loosened the laces of his leather trousers as though it were the last thing she wished to do.

“Good girl,” he praised. Slipping his hand into his trousers he pulled out his cock, not quite fully engorged yet, and began stroking it in her face.

“Now then.” She flinched when he tapped her lips with the head of his cock, hard. Taken aback momentarily by the action because she’d been distracted by her earbud, trying to decipher what the crowd was telling them to do next… not that it was a big leap. Reaching down he placed his thumb against her chin and applied a bit of downward force as he told her, “Open that whore’s mouth of yours and take my cock, wench. Let’s see how deft you are at shivering me timber.”

Her eyes watered and she choked against the assault of his member being forcibly shoved down her throat. Flicking her gaze upward, she saw the concern and apology in his eyes before he shut them tight and let his head fall back, an expression of arrogant dominance and self-satisfaction gloating from his features.

The laughter and jeers of the crowd filled her ears, as did the vulgar chant of suck his dick, applied in a rhythm that her Captain made her keep pace with from where he had her hair gripped in his hand at the back of her head.

“That’s it, love,” he praised, tapping out another rhythm behind her ear with his finger as she bobbed against his length. You and me, you and me, you and me.

She’d almost managed to tune out the mob when a woman’s voice grated in her ear.

“Well, hello there, sailor.”

Looking up, Emma saw a woman, decked out ostentatiously in hues of green, arriving late and making her way down the steps. In her hand was the microphone attached to the ear piece she wore. She paused, giving Killian a once over before slinking behind her screen and taking her seat.

Before she disappeared behind the thin veil of fabric, Emma recognized her by the mask she wore. It was the woman who had paused by the two-way mirror the night before to check her flaming red tresses.

“Do us a favor and flick those kohl-lined eyes this way,” she cat-called into her microphone.

The green light signaled from above and another light shone down over her screen. Emma stared up Killian’s body to look at his face and saw the muscle in his jaw clench and spasm before he flicked his eyes away from her and towards the screen, then held his gaze there as the platform continued to turn.

“Mmmm,” the woman hummed provocatively. “Yes, I think I’m going to enjoy tonight’s entertainment very much indeed.”

When the platform circled round again, Emma glanced over at the woman’s screen and could see the silhouette of her reclined back with her legs splayed wide, clearly pleasuring herself under the Captain’s gaze. A jolt of jealous anger ignited down Emma’s spine. Relaxing her jaw, she let Killian slip further down her throat until she could brush the tip of her nose against his torso. A cursing moan slipped over his lips and his hips bucked from the unexpected action.

“Nice!” a guest praised. “Make her take all of it, Captain!”

“No, you fool,” another guest chastised. “We don’t want him blowing his load too soon. Not when the wench has other holes for him to use.”

“I wanna see the wench take control. Let her have the reins for a bit.”

“Maybe next time,” someone countered. “I’m enjoying this too much.”

Next time!? Emma responded internally in a near panic. What the hell do they mean, next time?

“I think her breasts need some attention, too,” another chimed in. “Look how those nipples are just begging for attention.”

“I wanna see her cunny. I bet it is just dripping. Would love to see our Captain’s face glistening from her juices, wouldn’t you?”

All during their debate Emma continued to work her Captain over. She delighted in the way his chest hitched and heaved, the way the chords of his neck tightened, the rosy blush that developed high on his cheeks, the micro spasms twitching through his torso and down his legs, and the sounds… dear god, the sounds this man made.

Green flashed again and Emma was astounded at the way Killian managed to keep track of what was expected of them, given the distraction she’d been providing. Pulling himself from her mouth with a pained sounding grunt, he hauled her onto her feet then shoved her back onto the nearby chaise. She’d barely registered what was happening when he lifted her skirts up over her legs and grabbed her hips, pulling her body towards the edge of the cushion and lining her sex up with his eager mouth.

The exquisite torment lasted for what felt like hours. Time and again he brought her to the brink with his tongue, teeth, and hands, deftly assaulting her clit as he probed, scissored, and thrust his fingers into her holes. When his mouth tired he switched to one of the many toys, holding her on edge until tears streamed down her face and pathetic whimpers escaped her lips. Her back ached from the repeated arch his actions provoked and her legs quivered uncontrollably. A few times, he gave her cunt a rest, turning his attention to her breasts and laving them with his tongue while his slick-coated fingers rolled her nipples into taut peaks that he then sucked clean with his mouth.

The sound of their joint moans were echoed by those from the crowd. A symphony of zippers being undone, fabric being moved, skin being slapped, and groans being uttered filled her ears, making the torture all the more erotic. When she was finally given leave to speak, it was only so she could beg. Beg for mercy. Beg for release. Beg for him to fuck her.

And beg she did.

“Please, Captain,” she whimpered, choking on a sob that had caught in her throat from the fresh assault he was applying to her clit.

“Please what, wench?” he commanded in a strained gruff. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Please let me come,” she pleaded. “Please, please, plea--!”

She didn’t get the third please out before a scream tore past her lips, her body convulsing from the pleasure the vibrating toy at her clit was finally granting her. Wave after wave of release crashed over her until she was so spent she wasn’t certain she hadn’t blacked out. The next thing she knew, she was being hoisted off the chaise and bent over the desk, facing out towards the crowd.

The Captain’s body molded against her back, his breath hot against her ear as he growled, “I’d find something to hold on to if I were you, wench. Because I’m gonna fuck you hard. I’m gonna fuck you deep.”

Emma barely had time to latch on to the corners of the desk when the entire thing tipped forward from the force of his entering thrust. Relentlessly, he pounded into her, egged on by the jeers, cheers, and taunts of the crowd.

“Keep your eyes open, wench,” a voice demanded from the masses. “We wanna see you watching us take pleasure in your degradation.”

The green light commanded that she do just that, the silhouettes from behind the thinly veiled screens leaving little to the imagination of how much the audience was enjoying the show.

“She can keep her eyes on the lot of you,” the irritating woman’s voice said. “I want the Captain’s eyes back on me.” When the green light agreed, Emma could practically hear the woman’s gloating expression in her words. “Cast those come fuck me eyes this way, Captain.”

He must have complied, prompting her to purr, “Oooo, you are a wicked one, aren’t you. Would you like to have your wicked way with me? Tell me all the wicked things you’d like to do to me.”

With effort, given the pounding he was giving her, Emma managed to look back over her shoulder in time to see him flash the woman a wide, yet sinister smile before grunting, “I’d like to shove a gag in your mouth to shut you the fuck up.”

Applause rang out, as did a round of laughter, and Killian turned his attention back to Emma and the brutal pace he was setting.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he panted on a half groan. “So wet and so tight.”

“That’s it, Captain,” the crowd encouraged over the barrage of their own moans and sounds of satisfaction. “Take her. Use her. Breed her.”

“Yes!” someone cried out. “Breed her! Fill her for us, Captain. I wanna see your cum leak out of her afterward.”

The Captain roared from his release moments later, his fingers digging into her sides to the point of bruising as his hips moved erratically against her ass. Once every last drop had been coaxed from him, he collapsed and fell forward, sprawling across her back as his chest fought for each breath. Around them the sounds and smells of others reaching their own climax filled the air, then for a brief yet glorious moment, things went quiet.

One final swath of green filled her vision, and Killian murmured into her ear, “Stay there, love. One last task, I’m afraid.”

He removed himself from her and she immediately felt the warmth of his release slip from her depths and trickle down her thighs. He gave her ass a quick, firm slap, then spread her cheeks, allowing everyone to see the proof of his conquest as the platform turned one last time.

When the platform came to a stop, a curtain dropped, surrounding the stage and separating them from the audience's view. Killian assisted Emma off the desk and swept her up into his arms before taking them over to the chaise where he could sit and cradle her in his lap. They held each other as their skin cooled, their heartbeats regulated, and their breathing calmed.

“You were wonderful, Swan,” he praised, his fingers gliding across her back and down her side. “I’m so proud of you, love.”

“You, too,” she murmured against his chest, barely able to keep her eyes open, the exhaustion created from both their exertions and the stress of the situation starting to take hold.

“Here. Have her put this on.” A voice caused them both to jump and Emma’s head snapped to where a Lost One stood a few feet away with a robe offered in his outstretched hand.

Killian took it from him and draped it around her shoulders, then helped her to stand so she could secure it around herself.

“Follow me,” the Lost One commanded, setting off towards the door they had entered hours before.

“Are you okay to walk?” Killian asked, his tone full of concern and laced with guilt.

“I’m good,” she assured him. Tucking herself into his side, she added, “But I might need to lean on you a bit.”

“Lean on me all you need,” he told her, wrapping an arm around her waist. “But I don’t mind carrying you.” She flicked her eyes up at him and smiled when his Captain’s persona took hold once more. A surprised yelp squeaked past her lips when he bent down and swept her feet out from under her. Straightening, he adjusted her weight in his arms and cheeked, “I’ve carried rum barrels heavier than the likes of you, wench. So, I’ll have no argument.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

~/~

Killian gazed up at the ceiling, his arm wrapped around Emma as she lay curled into his side, the smell of her floral shampoo and conditioner tickling his sinuses. After they’d finished entertaining Pan’s guests, the Lost One had led them to the showers so they could clean up. They’d both been almost too spent and exhausted to wash, much less talk, and little had been said on the way back to their room, while dressing, or even after they’d crawled into bed.

While Emma had drifted off within moments of her head hitting the pillow, Killian had been unable to do so. Too many thoughts were competing in his mind. Thoughts of Emma playing her part as the defiant wench, the memory of her on her knees, splayed out on the chaise, and bent over the desk threatening to make him hard again. Thoughts of the crowd and how he hadn’t expected the proprietary feelings of satisfaction that had coursed through him as he took his wench in their full view, claiming her for his own. Thoughts of what those actions would mean for them now, knowing he had finished inside her without protection. Thoughts of everything the two of them had been through since they had awoken, naked, in bed together all those weeks ago, and… thoughts of what Pan might have in store for them next.

It was these thoughts that were keeping him awake the most.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Emma said groggily, her fingers twirling through the hair on his chest as she sleepily looked up at him.

Furtively, he glanced down at her then back up, unwilling to voice his thoughts to her just yet. Despite everything they’d been through, she seemed so content. In this moment she was safe and happy and hopeful.

He did not wish to deprive her of that.

“Hey,” she said, concern coloring her tone. Reaching up, she cupped his cheek and pulled his face back down, forcing him to look at her. “Tell me. What’s eating you up?” Propping herself up on her elbow, her brows pulled together and a slightly panicked expression crossed her face. “Please tell me you’re not beating yourself up about tonight. You know I would never hold any of that against you, right?”

“Aye, I know,” he responded quickly, not wishing for her to believe for a moment that his trepidations had anything to do with her. “It’s just…”

“Just what?”

“I just… I wonder whether we,” he paused, taking a moment to swallow and fortify his resolve before confessing, “Whether we made the right decision.”

Confusion rooted deeper in her expression. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t you… don’t you wonder why he let us call them?” he said, his fingers gently stroking her arm as a way to ground himself and hopefully keep her feeling connected to him as he attempted to voice his concerns. “Why he made it seem like agreeing to do what we did was the only choice we could make?”

“It was the only choice,” Emma countered emphatically. “Being separated from one another isn’t an option I--”

“But that’s just it,” he argued. “Maybe that’s the choice we should have made.”

Emma pulled back as though he’d just slapped her, and his heart broke at the vulnerability and hurt he saw displayed upon her face and in the tremor of her next words. “Are you… Have I done something to make you not want to…”

Sitting up, he took her face in his hands, leveled his gaze with hers, and assured her, “No. No, please don’t misunderstand me. Being separated from you is the last thing I would ever wish for. I just think that…”

Emma reached up and took his hands into her own, cradling them in her lap as she spoke. “Alright. Talk me through what you’re thinking, then. Why do you think it was a mistake to agree with his demands and stay together?”

Killian’s Adam’s apple bobbed and he drew in a deep breath, not wishing to voice his concerns for fear of making them real. He’d rather them both be prepared for the possibility, though. Everything they’d faced, they’d faced together. Choosing together. He didn’t want this to be any different.

“Each round of Pan’s demented game has escalated things between us,” he began. “First, it was stripping away our vulnerability. Forcing us to reveal things about ourselves that we would never normally reveal.”

Emma nodded and squeezed his hands. “Go on.”

Wetting his lips, he continued. “The second round was all about taking advantage of our attraction towards each other and getting us comfortable with sharing physical intimacy. This third round challenged and exploited the lines of physical intimacy we were willing to explore with one another.”

“Yeah,” she replied. “Each round has ratched up the stakes of our experience here, making us more and more compliant.”

“And each round’s rewards and penalties have reflected that.” He held her gaze with an intensity he hoped would lead her into understanding where he was going without him having to say it explicitly.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t quite getting it.

“I still don’t understand why you think it might have been best if we’d chosen to be separated.”

“What if the next escalation, or the one after that, is…” He swallowed past the bile working its way up his throat, “...actual harm to each other. Violence.”

Emma balked and her mouth dropped open with a gasp. Clearly, such a thought had not occurred to her until now.

“What if Pan makes us hurt each other? What then?” he continued on, pulling her into his arms and whispering the rest into her hair in a tone of apology. “Maybe he tricked us into staying together? Maybe we would be better off separated, because… Now we have to face what it would mean to have hurt someone we… how are we supposed to respond when faced with the command to injure the other? What would you have me do if Pan orders me to…”

Thoughts of the unthinkable made it impossible for him to continue, but after a few moments Emma pulled back and ran her fingers down the side of his face.

“We’ve already made our choice to stay together. There’s no point in wondering whether or not it was the right one.”

Killian nuzzled his face into her hand then turned his head to place a kiss on her palm.

“Besides,” she said, his tough lass straightening her shoulders and setting her resolve. “If Pan commands that one of us is to be harmed, then the harm will happen regardless.”

Killian cocked his head to one side, not completely sure what she meant by that statement.

Fortunately, she clarified, saying, “Either one of us will administer the injury, or he’ll have one of his Lost Ones do it. Either way… the injury will occur. There’s nothing either of us can do to stop it from happening.”

“Aye. You’re right,” Killian replied. “I suppose the thing we must ask ourselves is whether we can endure the guilt, and every other emotion that might come with it, should we be the one to inflict such pain on the other.”

Several silent beats of his heart went by before she softly, yet hesitantly asked, “Could you?”

Killian took another beat to truly consider the question. The question he’d been considering for most of the night. If Pan commanded it, could he hurt the woman he loved?

“No,” he stated definitively. “It’s one thing to administer a spanking to you, and quite another to…” He balled his hand into a fist and stared down at it, his Adam’s apple bobbing painfully. “The thought of putting my fist to you… I can’t. I won’t.” Gazing back up at her, he added, “And I won’t fault you for having a Lost One mete out Pan’s orders on me either. Especially if it will save you from having to carry that guilt, love.”

Emma nodded her understanding and acceptance, then prompted him to lie back down beside her. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” she whispered softly, though there was very little hope in her tone.

“Aye, love. Let’s hope so.”

Part Ten - Coming Soon!

Tagging the Curious Crew: (add to tag list)

(Please be advised that I only keep one tag list for all fic updates and new works. If at any time you wish to be removed, just shoot me an ask or a DM. No worries.)

@kmomof4 @jrob64 @zaharadessert @laianely @booksteaandtoomuchtv @the-darkdragonfly @undercaffinatednightmare @killianxswan @mie779 @motherkatereloyshipper @jennjenn615 @jonesfandomfanatic @anmylica @superchocovian @caught-in-the-filter @winterbaby89 @wyntereyez @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @gingerchangeling @exhaustedpirate @cocohook38 @donteattheappleshook @lfh1226-linda @teamhook @jackieorioncat @paradiselady19 @snowbellewells @earanemith @ultraluckycatnd @pirateherokillian @calmjoonie @unworried-corsair @teamhook @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @captainswan-kellie @soniccat @kday426 @djlbg @fairytalepretzkle @maggiegreenvt @natascha-ronin @ilovemesomekillianjones @iamstartraveller776 @deckerstarblanche @shadowsaur @qualitycoffeethings @idristardis

#csff #cs ff #cs fanfic #cs au #captain swan #csfic #cs fic #cs smut #pan says... #words by hollye

[greypetrel]

Fan Work Friday Saturday

Rules: If you're tagged, MAKE A NEW POST and showcase one fanartist or fanfic you recommend (with links), and tag someone to give their recs next! Don't forget to reblog the rec you were tagged in!

Thank you so much for the tag @dreadfutures! Saving the second for later on in the week. Listen I have a hard time choosing and I'll do these on repeat if I must.

Fanartist: @salsedinepicta

Starting with her, purely because it's litterally 10 years of me being 👀 at her art, and I do love the way she mixes pictorical techniques with swirly, 2D lines. I am not a fan of pink+green combination, BUT when she does it. Add a lot of historical references and clothing and an expressive use of colour. I'm an absolute sucker for all artstyles that just looks like three paintstrokes thrown at a paper (digital or traditional) and she does that. And, she's a wonderful human being too, which really helps. <3 (she'd hate the attention but let me Will Smith meme her.)

Fanfic: To The Bone, by @shivunin

Rating: M Words: 48,373 Pairing: Cullen/Inquisitor Lavellan Summary: Depending on who you ask, either Sylaise or Andraste set a mark of fire on those who are destined to find each other. No matter how curious each of them is, neither Lavellan nor Cullen are especially eager to actually go looking for this person. Either luck or fate draws them both to the Inquisition anyway.

I debated high and low what of her fics to start from. I chose To The Bone because it's a soulmate AU. And I generally don't like Soulmates AU. But this one? Mo has a way to turn tropes and clichès around in a way that just makes them relatable, visceral and real. The way she renders human fragility and vulnerability is really heart-clenching. I know I always fangirl over her work but it bears repeating. To the Bone is played more than a Soulmate AU -it is important, but not the main focus, which tricks me into loving this- as a big story of two hurt people who needs to learn to trust someone with their own vulnerability. It's all about learning that you can trust other people, and exactly how scary a decision it is, how much it feels like a jump in the blue.

It's relatable, it's gritty, it's not the peak angst Mo can reach (for that, get a lot of tissues and click on Wander the Drifting Roads.), but it was the first of her works I read and it has a special place in my heart. For its themes, for its main character (can I hug her?) and also and particularly because it's a trope I generally don't like. And I do like to be stand corrected.

Tags under the cut!

You two whom I mentioned, if you want consider this a tag too! :)

Also: @melisusthewee @dreadfutures @inquisimer @blarrghe @blightbear @star--nymph @pinayelf @dungeons-and-dragon-age @ndostairlyrium @hollytree33 @theluckywizard and YOU

#fic rec #fanwork friday #tag game #salsedinepicta #shivunin #I feel terribly guilty in choosing only one thing so fill me with tags please - I'll tag myself if I have to :"D #(it's a great idea and I'm happily jumping into the bandwagon - but choosing makes me anxious) #I'll start recommending more rarepairs #tagged petrel