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zegrasdrysdale · 6 months

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[ slip of the tongue ] n. hischier

paring : Nico Hischier x fem!reader

summary : after a Devils win, Nico gets interviewed in the locker room after scoring his first NHL hatty. he slips up in front of the cameras and mentions his girlfriend for the first time. it doesn't stop her from showing Nico how proud she is of him though ...

warning(s) : smut ! p in v protected sex, oral (m receiving), pet names during sex, language throughout. possibly wrongly translated german (i'm learning)

author’s note : this plot has been in my head for a while so here i am. pls just indulge me w this bc i was having a moment while writing it

18+ below the cut ! MINORS DNI

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(Y/N) swears she won't have a voice come the morning.

As soon as the puck went into the net and the goal horn went off for the third time, she's been screaming in the suite with the other Devils wives and girlfriends. Her boyfriend just scored his first NHL hat trick and she couldn't be prouder of him. They're now up 5-2 on the Sabres with less than a minute left in the game.

Jack and Dawson have a goal each along with Nico's three goals. It's a four-point night for her captain boyfriend since he got an assist on Jack's power play goal. She remains standing until the final horn that signals the game is over. The Rock is buzzing as the Devils give Vitek some goalie hugs.

She records when Nico is announced as the first star of the game for his four-point night. The crowd cheers as loud as they did when Nico scored the hat trick. Her lips hurt from smiling for nearly ten minutes straight.

As soon as Nico skates off the ice, (Y/N) makes her way down to the players' lounge room that the wives and girlfriends usually hang out in before and after the game. She hangs out with Vitek and Erik's wives as she waits for the players to come in after they've changed and showered.

Notifications start coming through about a half hour after going to the players' lounge. A lot of notifications. New followers, lots of likes and comments on Instagram. A lot of mentions on Twitter. She has no idea what's going on.

(Y/N) reads one tweet that's in her mentions that has a clip attached to it.

vina @/hischiers i knew there were rumors but nico hard launching his relationship after the game was not something i expected to happen today of all days

She clicks on the clip of Nico in his postgame interview and watches it.

Amanda Stein asks off camera, "Did you have any friends or family present for the game today to witness your first NHL hat trick?"

Nico doesn't hesitate to reply, "My girlfriend came to her first Devils home game today." He smiles and bites his bottom lip. "Yeah, she, uh, this game was really special for me because she's here and she got to witness my first hat trick in person." He blushes and doesn't stop smiling in the clip.

"Oh my God," (Y/N) gasps as the clip restarts.

They never talked about going public with their relationship. They've been dating for about seven months. Nico is one of hockey's most popular players, and (Y/N) has seen how loved he is among the fans. She's basically a no one from Newark dating the captain of a hockey team in the NHL.

The players begin to make their way into the lounge area. They make their way to their wife or girlfriend or really whoever they invited to the game. Her eyes are on the door as she waits for Nico to come in.

Jack and Luke walk into the room with Nico five minutes after the rest of the team does. They're deep in conversation but she can't help but run over to her boyfriend and basically jump into his arms.

Both Hughes boys both laugh as Nico catches her and she wraps herself around him completely. He wraps his arms around her torso so she doesn't fall.

"Congratulations, baby," she says against his hair. It's still damp so he recently showered. "I'm so proud of you."

"Guess you're my good luck charm," he laughs in reply. (Y/N) pulls back so she can see his face and he looks genuinely happy. "I play a lot better when you're in attendance."

She shakes her head and smiles. "I think that's bullshit," she tells him. "There's a reason you're one of the league's best players since you came back from your injury. It's not because of me."

"I think you should come to more games anyway," Nico says. "Clearly I like when you come to games."

(Y/N) laughs and rests her hands where Nico's shoulders meet his neck. "I'll come to games whenever you want," she replies. "You like to show off when I come."

He smiles and nods. "I gotta show off for my girlfriend," he retorts. "Especially when she looks so good in my jersey."

"Flatterer," she laughs before she leans down and captures his lips in a soft kiss. Nico laughs into the next kiss before she pulls back and looks at him. "By the way, did you know you told the entire league and it's fans that you have a girlfriend during your postgame interview?"

"You saw?"

"It's all over social media, Nico. People are saying you hard launched our relationship."

She lets her legs drop and Nico lowers her to the ground. "There were rumors anyway," he replies. "It was bound to come out. Did it bother you? It just kind of came out when I was asked and I wasn't really thinking about the fact that we never talked about it."

"I just would've liked a little heads up," she tells him with a smile on her face. "Are you ready to go?"

He nods and begins to make the rounds to say goodbye to the Devils. She never lets go of his hand as he says goodbye to his teammates. It's his job as captain to tell the team how good they did so he doesn't forget about that. He congratulates Jack and Dawson on their goals before they finally head to the parking lot.

Nico drove them to the Prudential Center in his car so she sits in the passenger seat of the car so Nico can drive them to whoever's place is closest. Which is Nico's apartment.

As they leave the parking lot, Nico stops and says hi to some fans. Pictures are taken where (Y/N) is definitely in the background but at this point, she doesn't care. Nico already told the entire world that he had a girlfriend that was at the game.

He signs some jerseys and pucks, takes some pictures, and gets more than a few congratulations on his hat trick before Nico finally pulls out of the parking lot. He looks over at (Y/N), who gives him a small smile as they stop at a red light.

"You played really well tonight," she tells him. "I'm not just saying that because you had a four-point night but you played really well. I'm so proud of you for getting your first hat trick tonight. I can't believe that I was able to watch it happen in person."

Nico laughs and says, "I told you that you're my good luck charm. The first game you come to after we start dating and I score my first NHL hat trick. It's not a coincidence."

She shakes her head with a smile on her face and looks out the window until they get to Nico's. She plays with her thumbs under the sleeves of her too big jersey that Nico gave to her a few weeks ago.

Fifteen minutes after leaving the arena, Nico pulls into his apartment building parking lot and parks in his usual spot. Her car is parked next to his. They get out and begin the trip up to the top floor of the building where Nico lives.

The building is ten stories tall so it takes a minute for the elevator to get up to the tenth floor from the first floor. Their fingers are laced together the entire time.

(Y/N) follows close behind as Nico unlocks the front door to his penthouse apartment. She wraps her arms around his torso as he unlocks the door and presses her front to his back. "You can't wait until we get inside?" Nico asks as the stupid door finally unlocks.

"Nope," she replies, popping the "p". "I wanna show you how proud of you I am."

He laughs before he pushes the door open. (Y/N) stumbles inside after her boyfriend. She closes the door behind her and Nico presses her against it with his hands on her waist. She stares up at him like she’s challenging him to do something.

Nico looks her up and down. “I wasn’t lying earlier when I said you looked good in my jersey,” he tells her. His voice is deeper and accent thicker than it normally is. “I love seeing my name and number on your back. Knowing you’re mine. It’s so hot. You're so beautiful.”

“Do something about it.” Her voice almost comes out as a whisper. She is absolutely challenging him at this point.

He leans down and captures her lips in a searing kiss. Her heart leaps in her chest when their lips touch. Her back hits the door with the force of the kiss and her fingers grasp at the collar of the jacket Nico is wearing. (Y/N) pulls him as close to her as she can get him.

He presses himself completely against her and slots a thigh between her legs. She has to resist the urge to grind up against his thigh to give herself some relief from the pressure that's building between her legs.

"Off," she mumbles as she pushes Nico's jacket off his shoulders. He helps her out and shrugs the fabric off. He kicks it to the side when it hits the floor and grabs her by the waist.

She pushes her waist off the door and they stumble toward the master bedroom where Nico sleeps. Their shoes are kicked off by the door and Nico's jacket is abandoned on the floor. He loses his tie in the living room and his button-up is lost in the hallway.

When Nico falls onto his back on the mattress, all he's wearing is his suit pants. Even they're unbuttoned and the belt is on the floor. (Y/N) looks down at her boyfriend on the bed and gnaws on her bottom lip.

Sometimes she doesn't know how she got so lucky. She fell in love with the most beautiful and loyal guy. He's captain of a NHL team but still manages to find time to see her whenever he can. He's a talented hockey player that fell in love with her.

She can't believe this is her life. Being able to fall in love with Nico has been the best thing that's ever happened to her. Being able to be loved by Nico is an honor.

"You okay?" Nico asks as he sits up. His hands run up and down the back of her thighs. "You look deep in thought."

"Just thinking," she tells him as she crawls onto his lap. She straddles his waist. "I don't know how I got so lucky to love and be loved by you. You could've fallen in love with anyone but you fell in love with me."

Nico smiles up at her and wraps his arms around her waist. "I fell in love with you because you are the most incredible and beautiful woman I have ever known," he replies. "You're so supportive of me despite my crazy schedule. I don't know how I got so lucky."

Her face gets hot as she smiles. "I'm proud of you, Nico," she says. "I am so happy that I get to see you grow as a person and a player." She leans down and presses a quick kiss to his lips. "Gonna show you how proud of you I am."

She slides down to her knees on the floor at the foot of the bed. Her fingers work on unzipping his pants. She pulls Nico's pants and boxers off in one pull. His hard dick pops out of its prison and stands against Nico's stomach. (Y/N) throws them to the floor and kisses up the inside of his leg from his knee.

After placing a soft kiss to his hip bone, she takes him in her hand and gives him a few slow pumps. Nico grabs a pillow and uses it to prop his head up so he can see her without straining his neck. She smiles up at him before she takes him in her mouth.

"Oh, fuck me," Nico breathes out as (Y/N) moves her head up and down on him. "That mouth of yours feels so good, liebling."

(Y/N) loves it when Nico uses German nicknames on her, especially when they're in bed. They sound ten times hotter when her mouth is on him or when he's inside of her. There have been times when (Y/N) has been in control and Nico has been reduced to speaking his native language.

She'll never get enough of it.

One of her hands makes up for what can't fit in her mouth while the under snakes into the leggings she's wearing under the jersey. Her own fingers run through her folds and work her toward her orgasm. She lets out an occasional hum, which drives Nico crazy. She knows it drives Nico crazy by the way he squirms under her touch every time she does it.

Then she does the one thing she knows gets Nico to come almost as soon as she does it. She hollows out her cheeks and sucks before she swirls her tongue around the fire red tip.

"(Y/N), baby," Nico pants. "Gonna come in about two seconds if you keep doing that."

With a pop, she pulls off his leaking dick. She uses her tongue to get a bead of precum that was on the corner of her mouth. "We wouldn't want that to happen so soon now would we?" she asks as she stands up.

Nico's eyes widen as she begins to undress. The leggings come off first. She reaches down to pull the jersey over her head and Nico sits up quickly. "Uh uh," he says. "Jersey stays on."

"If you come on it, you better get me a new one," she tells him as he slides back on the bed. "I'm not walking into games wearing a jersey you came on." He laughs as he reaches into his bedside drawer and pulls out a foil package.

She finishes getting undressed but leaves the jersey on. Nico slides the rubber contents of the packages onto himself as (Y/N) straddles his thighs. He sits back against the pillow and headboard. She leans down and captures Nico's swollen lips in a tender kiss. He matches her pace and slowly kisses her back. He puts a hand on the back of her neck. His fingers curl into her hair.

All of her emotions are poured into this kiss. Her hands are on his jaw so he can't go anywhere. Not that he could go anywhere since she is sitting on his lap.

(Y/N) begins to move her hips slowly. She hums as Nico's dick slides through her folds and against her clit. A soft moan falls from her lips into the kisses she exchanges with Nico.

One of her hands leaves Nico's jaw and she positions him at her entrance. She presses a long kiss to his lips and leaves them connected as she slowly sinks down onto him. A whimper comes from her as the familiar pressure fills her. Nico takes the opportunity to lick into her mouth before he pulls back to look at her.

"You feel so good, schatzi," Nico tells her. "So good for me. You take me so well, you know that?" She replies with a soft hum as he completely fills her.

She allows herself a moment to adjust before she begins to roll her hips. Nico's hands fly to her thighs before sliding under the jersey to her waist. "Fuck, Nico," she breathes out as he moves in and out of her while she rolls her hips. Her hands are on his torso to keep her balance.

Slowly, she begins to pick up her pace. Moans fall from her lips the faster she moves.

One of the best things about being with Nico is how intimate these moments are. It feels amazing to be physically connected to him like they are one person. She wouldn't trade this for the world.

They fit together like two puzzle pieces. His hands fit perfectly on her waist. Their lips mold together every time they touch. The way his nose fits perfectly above hers when their foreheads touch is her favorite thing. She molds against his body every time they lay in bed together.

It's like they were made for each other.

"(Y/N), liebling," Nico breathes out. His eyes are on her as she rides him. "Ich liebe dich so sehr."

This is what she means. It's like he's forgotten how to speak English when they're in bed together. She loves it.

"I love you too," she pants because she's slowly been learning simple phrases and knows what Nico said. He tells her he loves her all the time in German. "I love you so much. I'm so proud of you. Fuck. You're amazing."

One of Nico's hands slide to the back of her neck and he pulls her down so their foreheads rest against each other. Her nose brushes his every time she moves. Her eyes close and Nico's thumbs brush her cheeks. "Open your eyes, baby," Nico tells her. "I want to see them. Please."

Her eyes open back up and meet Nico's big brown eyes. He smiles and she leans down to kiss him. She breathes hard into the kisses that are exchanged between them.

Nico takes advantage of the distraction and rolls them over so he's hovering over her. She smiles up at him until he begins to thrust hard and deep inside of her. A pornographic moan passes her lips and she arches her back to get closer to Nico.

He reaches between them and his fingers find her sensitive clit. She gasps when he touches the bud then whines when he begins to rub her closer to her pending orgasm. "Holy fuck, Nico," she cries out. "Keep going. Fuck."

Nico throws her legs over his shoulder so he can get a new angle and move even deeper into her. She has to bite her lip to keep from screaming his name as he begins to slam into her g-spot over and over again.

"Let me hear you, liebling," Nico says. "Don't hold back."

His pace quickens and she has to grab on to something. She chooses his hair when her hands slide up into his locks and her fingers curl. "I'm gonna come, Nico," she warns him. "Fuck, I'm close."

He keeps the same pace and uses his fingers to bring her over the edge. She comes so hard she sees stars. Her vision goes almost white and Nico's name passes her lips along with a string of curses. Her legs shake as they hang on his shoulders and she cries out as she has one of the most intense climaxes of her life.

Only Nico could ever get her to come like that. No one has ever made her come like that. No one besides Nico will ever get her to come like that.

There's a weight on her chest as she comes to and she realizes that Nico is lying on her chest. They're both panting messes as Nico gets off of her after resting for who knows how long. He ties off the used condom and tosses it into the trash can by the bed.

(Y/N) pulls off the jersey and takes off the bra she's wearing because she's sweating before she crawls under the blankets to cover her naked and spent body. Nico joins her and she rests her chin on his chest. Her eyes are on his the whole time. She traces little shapes on his belly.

"I think I got a little carried away," Nico admits. "I blame the jersey."

She laughs and shakes her head. "Good to know you have a thing for me wearing your jersey," she replies. "I'll have to remember that when you're having a bad day or you have a rough game."

Nico smiles and brushes a piece of hair out of her eyes. "I really do love you a lot," he tells her. "Thank you for coming to the game tonight. It meant a lot to me that you were there to watch me score my first hat trick."

"Thank you for inviting me," she says. "I had a lot of fun watching you score your first hat trick. It was incredible."

He leans down and presses a soft kiss to her lips.

Their night is nowhere close to being over. Nico has a day off so she is going to make sure she takes care of him and gives him whatever he wants for the rest of the night. All because of that hat trick.

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MASTERLIST

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#nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl oneshot #nhl fluff #nhl smut #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey oneshot #hockey fluff #hockey smut #nico hischier #nico hischier fluff #nico hischier smut #nico hischer x reader

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trashogram · 3 months

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He Chose You (Pt. 3)

Lucifer/Reader - Lucifer decides that you are the perfect person to be his baby mama.

Rated E, but the smut has been delayed due to personal matters. I apologize! Still not for kiddos though.

“Hello there!”

Teeth.

This man in your apartment —

‘He was a duck. A fucking duck and now he’s a man. Oh my fucking god what the fucking fuck.’

— had shark teeth.

If you’d had better control of your faculties — if you were capable of doing anything more than staring airily with mouth agape — you would’ve screamed bloody murder.

Instead, you sat there, unable to move and quickly succumbing to a sensation you could only described as detachment.

His pointy smile gleamed despite the darkness. His whole person appeared to glow, in fact, giving you a clear view of his demonic approximation of a man in what could only be described as circus attire.

You stared.

There was silence. The expression on his face fell slowly, showman’s smile melting until it barely lingered on his pallid face.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to get loud, heh.” The man-creature adopted an inside voice. “Hello.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you. I mean we’ve met before, obviously, but it’s nice to be able to meet you as me a-and you as you!”

The blond cleared his throat. Enthusiasm in full force as he pulled a cane out of behind his back and spread his arms out wide.

“Allow me to introduce myself! I am Lucifer Morningstar! King of Hell… and I am at your service, my lady.”

Lucifer bowed until his strangely nose-less face just about touched the floor.

“… King of Hell…?” Your voice came out steadier than you thought it would. “You’re… Satan?”

“Ah-ha, ha, that’s a common misconception. Satan is actually a friend of mine!” Lucifer sprung up, pleased as punch to hear you finally speak. “People have called me a ton of different names; that’s what happens when you’ve been around for like, ever. It all gets jumbled and lost in translation. Like that game! Telephone!”

“Wait, no.” He snapped his fingers together a few times. “Is that…? No that’s not it. It’s, it’s, ah shit.”

“No, you’re right.” You replied mildly. ”It’s Telephone.”

Lucifer’s eyes lit up like firecrackers. He moved closer to you, step by step, while excitement squared his shoulders.

“So, are you taking me to hell now?” Your flippant question stopped him dead.

“Wait, what?” His shock snapped into nervous laughter.

Your eyes rolled up to the ceiling contemplatively. “I didn’t think I was special enough to be brought down by the Devil himself.”

“No! No, no, no, no, no!” Lucifer waved his arms frantically. “I’m not! You’re not! I would never!”

“I’m flattered. You didn’t have to come all this way, you know.”

“Hell is for sinners not — not for you!” The very real panic on his face was amusing to some part of your hindbrain as you stared back at him airily. “You’re - you don’t deserve to go to Hell. Ever!”

“… Why?”

Lucifer’s shoulders shook, eyes still bugging out of his skull before he took a deep breath and exhaled shakily. If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear he was on the verge of a panic attack.

“Well, because! Because you-uuu are a good person. Good people go to…” He inhaled deeply and exhaled shakily. “H-heaven.”

You humored him with a smile, a kernel of pity lodged in your heart. It made sense that the Devil would hesitate before even naming Heaven.

“No,” You course-corrected gently. “Why are you here?”

“Oh! Okay, yeah that. Great question! Thank you for asking!” The man-thing cartoonishly wiped at his brow, a silent ‘phew’ following. “I just wanted to, um…”

Black gloves gesture wildly like Lucifer was fishing for words out of the air.

“Ahh, I guess? The short answer is that I just wanted to meet you.” He smiled sheepishly.

Your face felt numb, but you imagined that he could make out the want to raise your eyebrow questioningly from the blazé energy you were exuding.

“See, actually, I’ve been meaning to introduce myself for days. You were moving in and I saw you and I wanted to say hello because you looked… ”

Fang-like teeth bit into his lower lip as Lucifer eyes darted to your form. That sheepish look had morphed into a mortified one when he could no longer make eye contact with you.

“You looked like a ve-ery nice, helpful person and I thought to myself ‘gee, I don’t get to talk to a lot of nice, helpful people often — being as I am the ruler of Hell, and that’s not the nicest place around, right? Hah — so why not stop by and see if this person would be willing to talk to me?’”

The cane in his gloved hands tapped against one palm impatiently, a shiny red apple glinting at the top.

“Well, I, I mean that’s what I wanted to do when you first got here…” He trailed off with uncertainty.

“But I just… I just kept fucking it up!” Lucifer knocked a fist against his face as if to say ‘stupid! stupid!’. “Every time I come up to knock on your door, I start thinking about all the ways it could go wrong and then I’d start getting antsy and I didn’t wanna freak you out!”

The Devil raked a hand through his platinum-blond hair.

“I was just so afraid you’d run away screaming.” He sighed. “Which, while I thought that would be the worst case scenario, made a little more sense than right now with you taking this whole thing exceptionally well.”

“Hmm,” You hummed, turning his words over in your mind. “Well I can’t run away, but I’m definitely screaming internally, if that’s helpful?”

Lucifer had the nerve to pout at your deadpan statement.

“Maybe whatever you gave me at dinner caused a bad reaction?” You suggested.

“Oh no. Well, maybe. I mean — I didn’t give that stuff to you. This was their idea.”

A bit of feeling was returning to your nose, and you could feel it scrunch up in confusion. “Your friends wanted to drug me?”

“My frie — Hah! Oh no, sweetie those aren’t my friends! Well, I mean they’ve let me crash at their place when I’m up topside, but that’s all part of our little agreement.”

“Your agreement to-oo provide them with joy and laughter in their golden years as a pet duck?”

Lucifer guffawed loudly. “Oho! You are — that was funny! Hah, funny, kind, pretty, you’re the whole shebang aren’t ya?! — I knew picking you was the right move!”

‘Picking me?’ That got you to tilt your head with some effort, mouth opening to ask just that.

“Aha no, actually.” Lucifer cut you off. “That’s the other thing I was going to mention. I wasn’t gonna bring it up until a little while later, after we got to know each other.”

Before you knew it, Lucifer had scuttled to your side and was sitting on the edge of the couch beside you, propping up the side of his head on one arm against the back.

“Now’s as good a time as any.” You replied serenely. If you could shrug, you would’ve.

Lucifer frowned while patterns into the couch cushion. “I wish I knew why you’re so darn agreeable. I mean, I love it! Makes this so much easier. But it’s also a little… weird.”

You shifted to better face the Prince of Darkness, feeling a tingling sensation along one side. “I find it’s best to go with the flow during dreams. When I question things, they’re more likely to change into nightmares.”

“Wh… what?” Your companion flinched back like you’d smacked him in the face. “You think this is a dream?”

“What else could it be?” Came your nonchalant response. “It’s either that or a hallucination from the drugs. I wouldn’t know, I don’t usually partake. But I’m pretty sure I fell asleep after my neighbors brought me back to my room, so I’m leaning toward that.”

The devil remained silent, that earlier expression of mortification making a comeback, as well as a slow-growing horror that made the unusually red spots on his cheeks drain down to pink.

“No, no I’m not… I’m not a dream! This is real! I’m real!” Lucifer lurched forward suddenly, hands hovering centimeters from your lifeless arm.

He swallowed thickly, making a decision in real time to peel off his glove and reach out to you with alabaster fingers.

“See?” He asked softly, brushed against your shoulder down to your forearm with cautious claws.

The nerve endings in your body had been waking up throughout your conversation with Not-Satan, but felt unusually sharp as his nails grazed your flesh. Lucifer’s hand was smoother than smooth, and cold like a glass window in winter. It was as if he were made of porcelain, solid yet fragile.

And yet you felt a burgeoning warmth when he took hold of your hand. There was a faint heat coming from beneath his skin; a candle still burning somewhere beneath layers and layers of ice.

You shivered violently, body and mind syncing as you both rejected and sought that impossible sensation.

Lucifer, meanwhile, was staring at your hand in his, fingers entwined. He marveled at the image, hope blossoming from within, after an eternity of being grounded.

Just to touch you, to be near you and bask in your body heat and the presence of your soul did wonders.

“This is no dream. This is really happening.” He repeated softly.

———————— Tag List:

@crescent-z, @for-hearthand-home, @undertale-is-sansational, @loslox, @navierkalani, @yaimlight, @ivoryviness, @crystalplays28, @flowerempress, @wally-darling-hyperfixation, @altruisticradiodemon, @moonlight-readings, @halparkebitch

#hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader

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thehighladywrites · 6 months

Text

I still remember the third of December, me in your sweater…

Pairing: azriel x reader, the ic, lucien and elain, and helion mentioned

Summary: angst, no happy ending for him, a bit ooc azriel bc he’s an absolute ass in this. also I can’t make elain the villain bc I love her. bittersweet ending, cassian and feyre being the most wonderul people ever. some swearing, like a tiiiiiny nsfw scene, like it barely counts, but i’ll warn you anyways.

Author’s note: yeah, this was inspired by heather, so definitely listen to it while reading💔 i just think this was the perfect day👀 never again am i writing angst, plus i might have been a bit dramatic when said this was gut-wrenching, i don’t think this was very angsty, just a bit tragic. but i hate angst so any angst is gut-wrenching in my eyes🤷🏽‍♀️ also there’s no revenge better than rising above…

Word count: 6,5 k words

If you see any grammar errors or spelling mistakes, no you didn’t ❤️

"Y/n, I practically hear your teeth chattering. Here, wear this." Azriel removed his sweater, passing it to you with a hint of concern in his eyes. You bit the inside of your lip to keep from smiling, he was always so thoughtful and observant. It was on of the reasons you fell in love with him.

"It's okay, Az, you'll freeze." You attempted to return the warm clothes, but he firmly pushed them back, fixing you with a stare that left no argument.

"I won't freeze. You know I'm used to this weather. Bet you miss your old home right about now." He alluded to your home court, The Day Court where the sun always shines, and standing on the balcony on a crisp December morning doesn't make your fingers feel like they'll fall off.

You arrived in Velaris to assist with document translations, given your expertise. Your services were in high demand across various courts. And initially, a month-long stay extended to two, then three. Eventually, enchanted by Velaris and its people, you asked Helion if you could make it your permanent home. The support of your friends added to the whole experience.

You slid into Azriel's warm sweater, feeling its comforting embrace. The fabric whispered tales of comfort and safety, an unspoken promise against the biting cold. As you adjusted to the newfound warmth, your heart felt a different heat—one that spoke against the unspoken feelings you had towards him. The subtle scent of his cologne lingered, intertwining with the softness of the fabric, creating a scent that seemed to make your heart flutter twice as hard. In that moment, you couldn't help but let the warmth of the sweater mirror the warmth within you.

“ Feel better?” You nodded, avoiding his eyes in fear that he’d be able to see the emotions portrayed on your face.

“ Thanks, Az. For the sweater and all. It’s really warm.”

The corner of his lips twitched as his eyes remained on you, “Keep it. It looks better on you than it ever did me anyways.”

He grabbed your hand before you could respond and walked back in, closing the balcony doors. Stuck between friends and something more, you felt lost. Wanting to confess your feelings to Azriel but scared it could mess things up, you were torn. The shared laughs felt like good friends, but those lingering looks sparked a longing for more. Balancing this act, you wrestled with risking the friendship for a shot at something deeper. In the middle of all this, you were standing there, not sure which way to go.

As you hesitated walking further with him, Azriel noticed you stopped walking and furrowed his brow. "Hey, what's up?" he asked, his eyes reflecting genuine concern.

You wanted to tell Azriel how you felt, but doubts held you back. As you looked at him, the sweater felt heavy with unsaid words. You wondered if it's better to say what's on your mind or keep it to yourself. Fear answered for you as you shook your head and gave him a reassuring smile.

——————

Later that day, during dinner, Azriel asked you to meet him in the upstairs library while your friends were distracted, to which you accepted, head spinning at the possibilities.

In the quiet sanctuary of the library, the air thick with unreadable energy, Azriel's eyes met yours. Without a word, he closed the distance and gently pressed his lips to yours, a silent acceptance of the feelings that had lingered in the unspoken spaces between you. The unexpected kiss marked a sweet transition between friendship and the uncharted territory of something more.

——————

For over a year, you and Azriel kept things under wraps, not really calling it a relationship. It was a secret, a kind of unspoken understanding. The stolen moments and shared looks formed the backbone of whatever it was between you. You regularly fell in each other’s beds and spent intimate moments together. There was however one specific night you’d always cherish.

You were in his bed, cuddling after he gave you yet another amazing time. Your legs were h thrown over his hips as you occasionally kissed his plushy lips. He held you tighter and ran his hand under your sweater. His eyes were lidded as he whispered intimately,

“ This sweater looks so fucking good on you, please never take it off. I’ve never given anything to another woman, but there’s something special about you. I love it when you wear it, like a reminder that you’re mine. No one else will wear it.” He pulled you closer and kissed your neck and collarbones. His hot breath made yours hitch as he fondled with your stiffened nipples.

Your attempt to come up with a response faltered as he brushed over another sensitive area, prompting a moan to escape your lips.

————————————

But as time passed, the lack of clarity started to wear on you. The hidden nature of it all was both a source of comfort and frustration. You yearned for more, a real relationship, a label to put on what you had with Azriel.

But with the war and Feyre's sisters entering the scene, everything got complicated. Your attention got scattered, and the chaos made the unspoken thing with Azriel less of a priority for a while.

————————————

After the traumatic and bloody war, you tried to seek Azriel for comfort, but he busied himself with Elain. His focus seemed to be on her, making it hard to find a moment to reconnect. The situation left you feeling unsure about where things stood between you two.

As the days went by, you noticed Elain entering Azriel's world completely, capturing his attention in a way that left you filled with jealousy and pit growing in your stomach. Her presence became a subtle intrusion, and the shared moments that were once exclusively yours now seemed to be scattered between you and her. The laughter and conversations, once intimate, now carried a different tone, a rushed tone to hurry away to Elain. A pang of jealousy crept into your heart, and the undefined nature of your connection with Azriel began to feel more fragile. The fear of losing him to someone else tugged at your emotions, leaving you questioning the unspoken relationship you had shared for so long.

You couldn’t even blame him. Elain was a sight for sore eyes, a beautiful girl with an even more beautiful soul. She had only treated you with kindness, giving you thoughtfull Solstice gifts and advice when needed.

You couldn’t justifiably be mad at her.

You’d pick her over you too.

—————————

Maybe you should just face your problems head on and ask him for some advice to break the newfound ice. His grunts were heard as he punched cassians face, getting some blood on his knuckles. Approaching him in the training pit, you hoped he wouldn’t dismiss you. “ Hey, Az, can we talk?”

Looking at you with an unreadable expression, he sharply replied, “Yeah, sure, quick. What's up?”

You tentatively asked, noticing his mood, “ Um, you wanna go for a walk? I haven’t seen you for a while. Also, we’re supposed to meet tonight, are you still up for it?”

He glanced around, eyes searching for an out, “Can it wait? I've got something I need to take care of.”

You felt dismissed as he didn’t even address what you mentioned and used whatever power you had left and asked, “ I just thought-“

"Look, I'll catch up with you later, alright? But yeah, I guess i’ll meet you tonight." After Azriel quickly walked off, you felt a sting from his unintentional rudeness. He had been acting like this for a while now and they way he hurriedly accepted your offer was making you feel like a second choice. But why? You did want to meet him and he did say yes, so why in the mother’s name did this feel so…?

Trying to shake it off, you found a quiet spot to gather your thoughts. Doubts crept in, making you wonder if his abrupt exit meant something more. Left alone with unanswered questions, you thought about having a straightforward talk about where you stand in his life.

“Hey, you okay? What was that about?” Cassian’s tone was so gentle and inviting and it almost made you spill everything right there, but he already had his own issues and problems with Nesta so you didn’t want to burden him further.

"It was nothing. I, uh, I'll see you later, Cas." You hastily departed, your eyes stinging with impending tears.

————————————

He was late. Again. This had happened seceral times before and despite agreeing to see him tonight, his prolonged absence weighed on you. Feeling a bit pathetic, you rose from your armchair and slipped under the covers, opting for a deep, dreamless sleep.

————————————

As war flashbacks filled your mind, and a suffocating panic took hold in the middle of the night, leaving you sweating. You threw of your sheets, gasping as you made your way to door. Desperate, you rushed to find Azriel, your heart beating louder than the echoing footsteps in the quiet hallways. You hoped to find comfort, a break from your horrors, as you hurried along.

Turning a corner, the world shattered around you. Azriel and Elain stood in an embrace, lost in a kiss that felt like a thousand daggers piercing your chest. The air in your lungs disappeared , replaced by a crushing weight that threatened to swallow you whole. Time was lost as you grappled with the horrible realization that the sanctuary you sought was crumbling before your eyes.

Your Azriel wasn’t yours anymore.

Your Azriel wasn’t ever truly yours, a taunting voice spewed in your head

Quietly, your broken heart mirrored the shattered moonlight, pain etched into you, stranded in heartbreak's silent hallway where quiet screamed louder than war's echoes.

He had chosen to be with Elain even though he promised you he’d see you.

———————————

Your heart was in your throat as you went downstairs for breakfast. The memory of Azriel shoving his tounge down Elains throat was still so fresh and it made something in you ache.

The dining room buzzed with the voices of friends and family as you dropped into a chair between Feyre and Lucien, saving space for more seats in front of you. Glancing to the right from your plate, you noticed Lucien, as he cut into his eggs. Oddly, you hadn't known he was back, despite being good friends. Ever since he learned about his father, he'd been curious about your old home in the day court, where his father ruled. You two became fast friends, and you promised to take him on an exclusive trip there anytime he wanted.

“ Hey, Lucien. How was your trip and when did you come back, I didn’t hear you enter yesterday.”

Yeah because you probably cried yourself to sleep, maybe that’s why.

He flashed his charming smile, tilting his head with playful eyes. "Missed me, Y/n?" he teased, laughing as you playfully punched his arm. Only he would crack jokes so early in the morning.

Deciding to tease him back, you couldn't resist digging into the details of his trip to the continent. You never got tired of his adventures, loving how he narrated them with grace and humor, making you feel like you were right there with him.

"Yeah, so what if I missed you? I enjoy having you around, Luc. But seriously, spill. Did you take down any monsters? Save any damsels in distress?"

Lucien chuckled, leaning in with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, I did fight off a swarm of overeager pigeons. Does that count as saving the day or just a triumph against feathery creatures?" he quipped, his laughter infectious.

You howled at the thought of a flock of birds surrounding your friend, pecking at him while he irritatingly tries to remove them.

The room fell silent as Azriel walked in with Elain, and your laughter faded.

A mix of hot and cold flashes hit you as you saw Elain wearing your sweater.

The sweater Azriel gave you a year ago—the one that meant a lot to you.

The one you had grown to love and was a reminder of what could be.

The one that cemented your feelings for him.

He gave it to Elain.

The one he was kissing last night.

The one he swapped you with and then got irritated when you tried to approach him.

The one who was mated to the seething male next to you.

The weight of everyone's stares bore down on you as Elain and Azriel took their seats in front of you and Lucien. Feyre and Cassian's eyes felt like lasers on the side of your head as you couldn't look away from your sweater now worn by Elain. Confusion gnawed at you – you'd tossed it into the laundry basket, yet there she was, flaunting it. The fact that Azriel didn't seem to care only added to the bewilderment, even when he knew what it meant to you. Irritation sparked in you as you got ready to chew him out, because who the hell wears something that doesn’t belong to them. And maybe Elain didn’t know but Azriel sure as hell did and you had enough of whatever bullshit this was. But before you were able to speak up, Feyre beat you to it.

“Elain, where did you get that sweater? I’m pretty sure it’s y/n’s.” Everyone looked back at Elain as red colored her cheeks, she meekly looked at you as she sputtered her explanation.

“ I hope it’s okay y/n, I didn’t know it was yours. I was in the laundry room with Azriel and I got… Well I, I um, got dirty, so he handed me this shirt and told me it was okay but I should’ve asked. Do you want it back?”

Numbness was all you could describe what you felt like. There was no way to miss the insinuation. They fucked and he gave her your sweater to wear after. And she didn’t even know it was yours, so you didn’t blame her. You found a new level of respect for Lucien, because you weren’t even mated to Azriel and you felt all this pain. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how he felt.

Not having the energy for this you gave her a sweet smile and said something that made Azriel’s eyes stay on you the rest of the meal.

“No worries, Elain. The shirt means nothing to me. Keep it. It looks better on you than it ever did on me, anyway.”

You casually picked up your fork, trying to eat away the tension that lingered in the air. Throughout the meal, Lucien remained tense next to you, his mate leaning against the shadowsinger, his arm around her. The gesture practically shouting that he didn't care about Elain's mate sitting across from him, much to Rhysand's dismay.

"Lucien, I'm full. Do you want to accompany me to town? There are a few things I need to get, and I could use some help carrying them." You extended your hand, and he took it, ever the gentleman, placing it so you held onto his arm with a smile.

————————————

Reaching the pathway to the town square, the open nature felt like a breath of fresh air. Despite you and Lucien being able to winnow, a walk through the cold December morning seemed necessary to clear your head. Glancing at Lucien, you sensed a shared need for clarity. Unable to contain it any longer, you decided to spill everything, the weight of unspoken words demanding release.

“I’ll be honest, I suspected something along those lines. I mean you weren’t being subtle about it. But the sweater threw me off.”

“Oh, I suppose our subtlety is not relevant anymore. Lucien, I just want you to know how much I appreciate you and hold you in high regard. Feel free to share anything; I'm here to listen. I can't even fathom how hard it must be when you're mated.”

His sad laughter echoed, tugging at your heartstrings, confirming that it wasn't an easy situation. As he opened up, every word he shared made perfect sense, resonating with what you were feeling.

After wandering around The Rainbow, sipping hot chocolates, and sharing your thoughts, you headed home. However, upon your return to The House, you were greeted by a pacing and visibly upset Azriel. Furrowing your eyebrows, you looked at Lucien who looked just as confused as you. Azriels pacing came to a halt as he quickly made his way over to you.

“ Where have you been? I looked for you everywhere. Why where you out with him?” Hot fury coarsed through your veins as you snapped at his tone. Just who the hell did he think he was?

“Where I am and who I'm with isn't your concern. Now excuse me, I'm going to my room. Lucien, I'll see you around. Thank you for your help.” You stood on your toes, giving Lucien a kiss on the cheek, and then briskly walked to your room, leaving Azriel with his thoughts. Though he certainly didn’t think very long as his footsteps inched closer behind you.

Azriel stood before you with a tense expression. “Why were you with Lucien?” he demanded, his eyes searching for answers.

As much as you missed him and ached for him, there wasn’t a single planet where you’d let him disrespect you and then demand answers like some jealous boyfriend. Anger took over as you stood tall and laid everything for him.

“Listen, I don’t know what you think you’re doing but you can’t talk to me like that. Lucien is a good male, you should know, your fucking his mate and he hasn’t murdered you yet.”

His face was back to it’s neutral state, the state of the shadowsinger and spymaster of the night court. He stepped closer, jaw tight as he spewed words that made your blood boil.

“I don’t want to see you around Lucien again. I don’t care that you’re friends because it looks like you want to fuck him. You belong to me and I don’t share.”

The possessiveness normally would’ve turned you on as it once did when a male tried to hit on you a few months ago. But this just made you want to punch him clean across his face.

“Azriel, I’m not sure you’re hearing me. I may see whoever I want because you’re not my father or mate or anything. And I’m not a thing, I do not belong to you so I will do whatever pleases me.” You stepped closer, interrupting whatever he was about to say.

“Unless you’re actually disturbed, then you’re capable of understanding that you’ve chosen Elain, you’ve neglected me and have chosen her. I don’t blame you, the heart wants what it wants. But atleast grow a pair and say it to my fucking face. How dare you come to me and demand I stop seeing my friend?”

“ Y/n, let me just-”

“ No, i’m saying what I’m going to say then me and you never have to talk unless it’s absolutely necessary.” The last bit of anger you had, fired up the question you had been asking yourself for a while.

“Why did you give her my sweater when you said you’d never give it to anyone. Why would you ever give her what’s mine? From my laundry basket? Are you truly heartless or just plain stupid? And why do you care about what im doing? You’ve made it clear we’re over.” You swallowed back your tears, determination winning over the burning behind your eyes, no fucking way would you cry in front of him.

His words devoid of any sense of emotion rattled you. He ignored everything you said as he gave his stupid answer.

“First of all, it’s just polyester. You’re acting like a child over a shirt. And you’re my mate, so I think I get some say in who you see.” As if his words triggered something, an obnoxious golden thread snapped itse in your chest. The weight of it heavy with sadness and betrayal.

He looked bored and uninterested as he stared you down. “I’ve always wanted a mated and when you first arrived, the bond snapped into place, hence why I fucked you for over a year. And I almost told you about it but then Elain came along and I realized I love her more than I want a mate. You know, The Mother is cruel, she should’ve just made me and her mates so we could’ve skipped this ugly little moment. Oh well-”

A grunt escapes as he staggered back from your punch. That arrogant, hypocritical piece of shit knew you were his mate, he knew it every single time he bedded you, he knew it when you cried and laughed, he knew it when you told him how much you wanted one.

He knew and he didn’t care.

A whirlwind of emotions hit you as the bond intensified. A headache crept in as you turned away and left in silence, your head filling with questions.

How could you face him without the urge to punch again? Did Elain know all this? Did anyone? How could you stay here without wanting to kill him? And why was your face wet?

You halted, a trembling hand reaching for your face. Tears flowed, and a humorless, empty laugh escaped you. You hurried back to your room, sobs breaking through. Collapsing onto the bed, waves of sadness, heartbreak, and betrayal overwhelmed you.

————————————

You stayed in your room, wallowing in self-pity for the next few days without eating or seeing anyone. The House put several plates of food on the table next to you but you just felt nauseous. Your friends had reached out and tried to talk to you only to be met with your silence, it speaking loud enough for them to understand you didn’t want to see anyone.

A knock made you snap your head up as the person persisted. Irritation sparked in you as the knocks kept up. Letting out a sound of annoyance you got up, letting your legs get adjusted from the days of not using them, before strutting over and throwing the door open only to be met with by Cassian and Feyre.

“ Oh, what are you doing here, I think I’ve made myself very clear. I’m really not inte the mood for this.” You sensed an intervention and there couldn’t possibly be a worse time. They ignored you, much to your dismay, and just stepped in and plopped down on one of the plush sofas that decorated your room.

“ Y/n, we haven’t seen you for almost a week. I’ve accepted you don’t want to see anyone but i’m starting to get really worried. Please know that whatever’s burdening you doesn’t have to weigh on your shoulders alone. We’re here for you and if you don’t want to talk to us then maybe Azriel? I know you like each other and have some connection.” Your stomach dropped when she mentioned his name.

"No, absolutely not Azriel. I never want to see that lying son of a bitch ever." They appeared alarmed and confused since you always spoke highly of him. Feyre and Cassian were the only ones aware of the true nature of your relationship with him. They had supported you, and were the only ones shocked about the sweater Elain wore, knowing its significance to you.

"What do you mean? What did he do?" They rose to give you a hug, noticing your eyes glossing over. Sitting on either side of you, they held you as you poured out the details. In the safety of your friends’ embrace, you told the painful details of Azriel's betrayal. The room echoed with the weight of your emotions as they listened, offering comfort and understanding.

"I feel so stupid. I know he's my mate, but I still feel betrayed. He made it clear we were just sleeping together, but there were so many mixed signals, and I just... I don't know. I have no anger left; I honestly don't care anymore. And I know it's not Elain's fault because she doesn't know we're mates, but I'm afraid I'll hurt her if I see her near Azriel. Gods, I really admire Lucien. I wonder how he's gone this long without breaking down." You shook your head as you looked to them. Their expression was laced with sadness and anger towards the spymaster.

“ I’ll kick his ass today at training, I’m so sorry honey.” Cassian was filled with conflict and anger at his dear friend being put through this. And Feyre didn’t look better as she glared at the door as if Azriel might suddenly appear. They were finally both mated and could imagine the pain of their mate doing something like this.

“ Y/n, do you want to come with me and stay at the River House? Maybe some time away from him will do you good. Lucien is also staying there and he has been down lately too. I’ve talked to him and your situations are very similar. Maybe you should talk to him.” Feyre held your hand, her voice gentle as she gave you a smile when you nodded, accepting the offer.

Cassian walked over to your closet and packed you a bag of clothes while Feyre led you to your vanity and brushed through your hair. She pulled it into one of the simpler styles you usually went for. You went onto the bathroom and took a quick shower. Cassian knocked softly and handed you a change of clothes. You felt an overwhelming gratitude for your friends caring nature as tears welled up in your eyes. They approached with laughter, and it sparked a genuine smile from you. Gods, you loved your friends.

—————————

Azriel flew back to The House after spending the day with Elain and dropping her off outside the River House. Though he loved Elain, she hadn’t reciprocated his feelings and it grated his nerves. He threw away a perfectly good mate. She should be loving him back too. As he entered The House, the unusual silence struck him. Cassian and Nesta’s typical noise was absent, and the absence of any sound from you heightened his worry. Azriel anxiously opened doors and searched every corner, looking for any sign of anyone.

He remembered that it was Sunday, the day of their usual family dinner. He let out a sigh of relief and changed before flying to the estate.

————————————

Your wineglass paused mid-air as Azriel walked in, placing a kiss on Elain's shoulder. She glanced at Lucien, subtly distancing herself. Despite her evident discomfort, Azriel nonchalantly put his arm around her. You felt bad for Elain. Maybe she wasn’t feeling Azriel anymore but didn’t have the heart to tell him.

A snarl ripped you from your thoughts as Lucien stood up looking murderous. Elain looked up at him with a hint of relief as Azriel simply pulled her closer and stared at him, face unreadable.

“Get your arm off her before I kill you.” Luciens voice came out gritted and you instinctively moved away a bit, not daring to get too close to the seething male witnessing his mate feel uncomfortable. Lucien was a levelheaded male and it took a lot for him to get really angry, so anyone with half a brain knew not to tread to closely. Rhysand next to him, stood up aswell, sensing that there probably would be a fight, ready to intervene.

“You’re going to kill me? I’d like to see you try.”

That was definitely the wrong thing to say because Elain frowned and pushed his arm away, making her way over to Lucien, calming him down by grabbing his hand shyly. He still held eye contact with Azriel, slightly smiling as Azriel grew angry.

“Don’t lay your hands on her again. If i ever see you making her uncomfortable, I’ll hang you with your own insides.” Elain looked at him with wide eyes and dragged him further down the table.

“Okay, what the actual fuck? What is going on and why are you looking at y/n like that?” Rhysand’s voice broke whatever trance was going on. Your interest peaked as your eyes slid over to Azriel’s only to find them filled with his usual boredom mixed with anger.

You let out a laugh, not being able to stop as you thought about how ridiculous he was being.

“ Well, let’s see. Azriel is my mate and he kept it hidden from me since the day I met him. Oh, and we fucked around for a year or so before he became a dick and started ignoring me, stopped coming to our planned meetings and I finally understood it was because of Elain. But I don’t blame her, I blame him. Hmm… what else? Right! He knew about us being mated and wished he was mated to her instead, and look how that turned out. The one you left me for doesn’t even want you anymore Azriel, how does that make you feel, mate?”

You bit out the last words with poison as you gave him a half smirk. Elain approached you, as everyone soaked up the information. She held your hands in her shaking ones and looked at you with a pained expression.

“ Y/n, please believe me, I didn’t know you two were seeing each other, let alone were mates. He told me you were just friends and nothing more. Had I known, I wouldn’t have ever been with him. And if i’m honest I thought i wanted to be with him, but I want to get to know my mate.” Before she could ramble on you pulled her into a hug, feeling bad for her. She hadn’t know and still apologized.

“Elain, I assure you, I don't hold any blame towards you. I'm happy you want to get to know Lucien. Trust me, he's genuinely funny and nice when he's not being a sarcastic ass.” Laughter filled the air as you and Elain shared a moment, lightening the mood.

You let her go as she got closer to Lucien. No matter how much you wanted to seek your mate out for comfort, you couldn’t let it happen. You knew there was only one thing left.

“ Azriel, I reject the bond. I don’t know how I can ever be with you after this. Not only did you lie to me, you lied to everyone. I’m never going to trust you completely and I think we need to work on ourselves. But it won’t be with each other.” With that you turned on your heel and left for your room, leaving behind a shattered bond and pleading a mate.

———————————————

Azriel's three-month-long begging for a second chance haunted you, likely triggered by witnessing Elain and Lucien's kiss in the courtyard. While you were happy for them, a lingering sadness stayed you, realizing you would never experience a shared bond. Azriel had robbed you of the beauty of a mating bond, and forgiveness felt out of the question. Suffocated by him, you made your way to Feyre and Rhysand's office, ready to ask the dreaded question that had lingered within you for a while.

“ Come in!” Feyre’s gentle voice probed you to open the door as you slithered in. They both looked at you with caution. After breaking the bond, you had been bedridden for three weeks. The physical and mental toll it took on you was overwhelming and some days you questioned your decision. But then you remembered what led you here and just powered through.

“ Guys, I promise I feel much better, so please no more mother-henning. Especially you Rhys.” Feyre let out an amused giggle as Rhys just narrowed his eyes in mock irritation. The weight of what you had to say hung heavy on your shoulders, but you knew they'd support you. Opting for honesty, you decided to rip off the bandaid.

“ I want to move back to the Day Court. I love it here but I miss my home, my siblings, my parents, my friends. I wasn’t supposed to stay this long and even though I love velaris, I can’t live here so close to… him. Not only that but I’ve been sending letters to Helion and he is very eager to meet Lucien and has asked me to check if he wants to come.” You decided to drop the last bomb, asking them for a huge favor.

“I also wanted to see if you could erase my memories of Azriel. Not everything, just the whole fiasco. I genuinely want to move on, and I feel like I won't be able to if I keep dwelling on it. Believe me, I've tried to avoid him and the situation for the past months, but the thoughts still linger.”

They were silent for a moment, likely speaking to each other through their mind. You met their saddened eyes as they nodded.

“I'm sorry you feel this way, Y/n. I genuinely wanted you to feel at home here, but of course we won't force you to stay. We'll erase the memories, but only if you promise to visit someday. Perhaps even let us come to you? I've heard the Day Court's sun is not to be played with, almost rivaling the Summer Court.” You giggled and nodded at Rhysand's words, tears streaming down your face – a mix of happiness and sadness. Overwhelmed with emotions, you embraced them as they gave you a big hug, one of the last you realized.

————————————

You surveyed your now empty room, memories of passionate moments and heartfelt kisses with Azriel lingering in the air. It felt like a distant past, a different life, a different version of you. Shouldering your bag, you descended the stairs. Rhysand had winnowed all your belongings back to your old quarters in Helion's palace. Lucien and Elain, already packed, awaited you at the breakfast table. It was time to share one last meal as residents of this house.

After announcing the news, Lucien and Elain asked if they could join you, insisting on the top-class tour of the court you had promised him. Delighted, you agreed, more than happy to bring your friends along as you all headed back home.

The table was filled with your friends as you shared one last meal, Azriel's seat empty as he was out on a mission. Unable to face him in fear of lingering emotions, you insisted on leaving while he was away.

Feyre stood at the head of the table, a mix of emotions visible in her eyes. She cleared her throat, capturing everyone's attention.

“Today marks the beginning of a new chapter for Y/n, Lucien, and Elain. Though farewells are always bittersweet, we must embrace change and growth. Y/n, you've been a cherished member of our court and a life-long friend, and while your path diverges, our bonds remain unbroken. Never forget that you will always have a home here.”

She smiled warmly, addressing each one individually, “Lucien, my first and dear fae friend, Elain, my kind older sister, your presence has brought joy to our home. The Day Court awaits, and I have no doubt that your light will shine brightly there.”

She raised her glass, “To new beginnings, may your paths be lit by the stars that connect us all. Safe travels, my friends.”

The room echoed with the clinking of glasses, a heartfelt farewell lingering in the air.

————————————

After tearful goodbyes, Feyre and Rhysand exchanged a glance, understanding the weight of your request. Pulling you aside, Feyre spoke softly, “Are you ready for this?"

You nodded, feeling Rhysand place a gentle hand on your forehead as Feyre held the back of your head. Together, they wove their magic, erasing the memories of Azriel and the pain attached to them. As the magic settled, you blinked, a new easiness in your eyes.

Rhys offered a reassuring smile, “May this bring you peace on your journey, Y/n.” You gave them a final hug, walking back to Lucien and Elain and winnowed back to your home.

—————

TWO YEARS LATER

At Helion's annual grand ball, you moved through the crowd, the vibrant atmosphere alive with laughter and music. You glanced around as you spotted your friends.

Approaching your dear friends, you hugged and greeted all of your friends, updating them about your life as you heared the uptade of theirs. Then, unexpectedly, you found yourself face to face with Azriel. His expression revealed a mix of confusion and curiosity. This was the first time you had met him simce you moved. Your friends told you that he was often gone on long missions, only staying briefly to report to Feyre and Rhysand before heading back out. Unbeknownst to you, your friends had slowly decreased their conversations and meetings with Azriel and he was now more of an employee than a friend. They loved both of you but there was no way to just let him back in as a dear friend after what he did.

“Hi, Azriel. It’s been a while. How’s everything going?”

He nodded, "Indeed. I must admit, I'm surprised to see you here."

You chuckled, “Really? I mean it is my home after all. Why is it shocking?”

Azriel furrowed his brows, "I thought... after everything, you hated me."

Your eyes widened in confusion, “Hate? I don’t know what you mean, Azriel. Why would I hate you? You’re a dear friend of mine.”

Realization dawned in Azriel's eyes, “Your memories...” But before he could continue, Rhysand pulled him away.

Azriel's realization hit him hard. The weight of the moment pressed upon him, and he felt a deep sense of remorse. Seeing you free from the memories, both good and bad, brought a profound ache.

He swallowed hard, the truth settling heavily in his chest. He had caused so much pain that you chose to erase him from your mind. A sickness crept over him, the regret of his actions piercing through as he watched you move through the ball, blissfully unaware of the history you once shared. Surrounded by the festive atmosphere, he felt a deep loss and the haunting echo of an irreversible mistake.

You looked happier and healthier than you had ever been. Deciding to not disturb the peace you created, he simply disappeared into his shadows, seeking out their comfort as he always had.

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caineinthecorner · 2 months

Text

Language (The Demon Brothers)

★ Based on my language general hcs. Part 2 is here.

Hi. Today we have the demon brothers language hcs, brought to you by a single dumbass bilingual. :D

I include mentions of bilingual/multilingual MC, but I use the term MC and you interchangeably in the bullet points. It's the same thing who cares (you can also add whatever languages you think fit I am just going off vibes tbh)

★ Lucifer.

Since he was the strongest and highest ranked out of the brothers, his innate abilities were muddled the least.

This is to say that he remembers a lot from his innate knowledge as an angel, and can actually fare incredibly well on his own if you leave him in the human realm.

(the language he preferred back in his angel days was Archaic Latin, which is also Simeon's preferred language)

When Diavolo brought up the idea of the human exchange program he was like "(: ok" and binged human language for like two months straight like a total psychopath

He's like one of those fancy 10+ languages fluent polyglots (how)

Despite his fluency, it is rare to ever see him speak them. He has better things to do and prefers demon tongue.

Or if he does, the Loquar Ad Vos that was applied to you once you arrived in Devildom doesn't allow you to hear it.

You try to swear in your native language around him and oh boy it backfires

That is how you learn he's fluent in everything under the sun (exaggeration)

Frustrated, you grumble that you will learn demon tongue just to one up him

He takes it like a challenge. Enjoy reading a million books on the demonic language and having double the homework for your little joke.

(he gives you hard material to learn on purpose to see you fail. Enjoy hell buckoo. Double hell? Hell²)

You kept misspelling good morning in demon tongue as a demonic death threat and that somehow turned into an inside joke between the two of you.

He has to keep himself from chuckling whenever MC screws up words

Your accent is lovely though. Keep it up

★ Mammon.

Spanish and English.

Ok I actually can't justify myself further than "Mams would absolutely fucking go to Vegas" and the fact that USA has a large Latino population but hear me out

You cannot tell me that he would not watch telenovelas. Like. C'mon.

he has the vibes of a Spanish speaker is what I am saying

he was SO frustrated about having to learn human languages you have no idea

In fact he probably still struggles a bit and that makes him really mad

Why is it so complicated all of the sudden?! It wasn't complicated Before!

He unconsciously associates human languages with the trauma of the fall, and the stress and hurt and turbulent emotions it conveys

So learning new languages besides the two he knows is a touchy subject for him

(but like, he will learn MC's native language despite this. Whining to hell about it, but he will. Everything for MC)

You are actually very lucky that you have Loquar Ad Vos with you, bcs he actually switches from demon tongue to either English or Spanish mid sentence sometimes.

Not that you notice with your crusty translator (Loquar also works for human languages it supports), of course.

"Ayo can you [Spanish phrase], oh and give me a [English word], for a [spanglish nonsense]" <- Mammon's dumbass not functioning in trilingual

Also he has an accent but he's trying

The others are used to it so they don't question it anymore, but they deadass could not understand Mammon at some point because trilingual was not computing

It was frustrating to say the least

You two play charades with each other when the other forgets a word in your respective languages

"MC WHAT'S THE NAME OF THE ANIMAL FUCK THAT CHANGES HOME" "... Hermit crab?" "THATS THE BITCH"

★ Leviathan.

Japanese (very decent) and English (bad) are musts.

You cannot tell me for a second this fuck watches anime subbed OR dubbed. He's too weeb for that. He will watch the original dub version for the full emotional impact

He wanted to know what happens in the weeb world of the west (and internet discourse), so he learned English through shitty 2000s anime forums and Duolingo

Probably plays Duolingo competitively and/or cries if he loses his streak

His hearing and speaking English is okay, his writing is literally so so shit

Tried to learn a romantic language to be corny but failed miserably.

(He steered clear of languages his brothers know so he isn't self conscious)

It was probably Portuguese or something since Mammon kept talking about being good at figuring it out as a Spanish speaker (due to it being a romantic language)

The diacritical marks killed him on the spot

Meu português não é bom... (crying)

Victim of the you're* corrections

Runs his several-paragraphs-long rants about weeb stuff through Satan so the grammar is legit

Actually thinking about it would be absolutely fucking hilarious if he knew russian just for funsies. Yeah add Russian to the list

He sends you crusty Russian memes at unholy hours in the morning. Calls that bonding

Would absolutely swear in loud ass Russian while playing Valorant or smt

"ПИЗДЕЦ" "LEVI IT'S 2AM SHUT THE FUCK UP"

Ah + he knows Morse code (obviously). He was really excited when he discovered it and proceeded to obsess over it for like three weeks straight.

Although by the time he learned about it humans had already moved on from its wide-spead use at sea (post-1999), the Devildom Navy adapted Morse code for their own use as per Levi's command.

He teaches MC how to use Morse code (bashfully) and they send lil' messages to each other for fun

★ Satan.

He inherited a good chunk of Lucifer’s angel-knows-all-languages innate talents.

He doesn't have the angel knowledge of every language, of course, but he definitely has a really high count since birth; Unlike his brothers who had to relearn their languages of interest.

However, he can tell™ that the topic of languages is kinda taboo-y, as it signifies the traumatic fall he himself was not there to witness, and kept quiet about it.

The others (mostly) think he just learned languages in his free time.

He is the designated google translate person. When the other brothers need translations, they ask him.

He gets very frustrated when he has to translate something on the spot

Absolutely knows Chinese and Latin just to read fancy old human books and be a menace about it

He has a copy of the Art Of War in Chinese I will fight you on that

Actually he probably owns every important human book in its native language

Culprit of the you're* corrections

If he has to read another thesis-length essay abt weeb shit by leviathan he will actually lose his shit

You know the Voynich manuscript? He's probably trying to decode it for funsies.

If you and him (unfortunately) share a language, he will absolutely correct the living shit out of you when you speak it

Look me in the eyes and tell me he wouldn't "erm ACtuAllY" MC. You can't.

His ass does not understand slang. At all. You tell him See You Later Alligator and he'll be like "tf you smoking ಠಿ⁠_⁠ಠ?"

★ Asmodeus.

French. And Korean. Maybe very mid English.

Ok so french is the language of lOVe and whatever + Korea is known for their heavy beauty-focused culture

I can see Asmo definitely picking up Korean just for makeup and self care brands purposes.

Like it is easier to browse for products he wants if he can actually browse the original places/websites himself

It's just more convenient and he's actually very good at language learning

+ Korean it is a "cutesy" language so it fits his vibe.

Like he absolutely would go "안녕 teehee (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)" to look disarming is what I am saying

He flirts to hell with Solomon in French. It is a language they both know and isn't supported by Loquar for translation so nobody can snoop their conversations

If you have the misfortune of knowing French I am so sorry for you bcs they are NASTY

Solomon is teaching him English. Asmo fakes being bad at it on purpose

★ Beelzebub.

He knows a decent amount of English.

What does he use it for? Order food. Obviously.

In fact everyone kinda assumes he just knows a few food orders and that's it but no he's actually very decent at English (borderline fluent)

He learned through clunky conversation with small restaurant owners

Beel actually makes a great effort to enunciate every word clearly, so he doesn't like speaking long sentences

"Would you like Salsa with that, sweetheart?" "... Yes," <- Beel has no fucking clue wtf salsa is but it tastes good so who is he to defy food gods (a nice Mexican grandma with a killer Pozole) whom have blessed him

I also think he would probably know some kind of sign language

Fingerspelling maybe, solely because it allows him to talk while having his mouth full or bcs his games are loud and he can't hear words very well

That and, like, the Devildom equivalent of sign language. DSL or something.

Look at him. Absolute sweetheart. He would absolutely want to include deaf or hard of hearing ppl.

★ Belphegor.

Ok so

I am going to be very fr with you

I believe Belphie would be the only monolingual (demon tongue "native") of the brothers

at most he would remember a few phrases of a few languages from back when he was an angel, but not any specifics

Like this dude has ZERO interest in human culture I cannot think he would sit down to (re)learn anything

he would fall asleep trying to learn human verbs actually

He only knows how to tell you to fuck off on 4 languages (/hj)

None which you speak. So that's kinda awkward

He doesn't know how to cast Loquar (nor has any interest in learning how)

Beel casts it for him if he needs it

He can and will deadass just remove the translator spell from you if you try to annoy/interact with him (except if Beel is who casts it on you).

(so Beel now also casts Loquar for you)

Begone >:(

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date?#obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me hcs #caineshcs

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bellaireland1981 · 1 month

Text

Babymoon

Summary: You and your husband take a quick beach vacation before becoming a family of three.

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female! Reader

Warnings: Illusions to smut, heavy making out, pregnancy, fluff, Jake being adorable. UNDER 18 DNI

Word Count: 2231 (look at me keeping it quick!)

A/N: Written for @thedroneranger 's Pick Your Poison writing challenge. Inspiration for the fic was Sex on the Beach As always, I do not own the Top Gun Maverick characters but all OCs and Reader insert concepts are my own and storylines are mine. I do not give permission for my work to be translated, copied, reposted to other sites, used in AI generators and sold on any platforms.

Masterlist

“Angel, are you sure you’re not overdoing it?” Jake asked as the two of you made your way down to the beach from your hotel room. “We can relax in the room for a bit or sit by the pool if that’s better…”

At 7 months pregnant, you were getting close to the point of no travel and Jake had surprised you with a last minute “babymoon” down to Mexico. He wanted the two of you to have one last opportunity to be spontaneous and fly off for a romantic getaway before you become parents.

“Jake, I love you, Stud…” You said, looking up at your husband, a coy smile on your face, “I promise I’m not overdoing it. I just really want some time on the beach with my sexy husband and baby daddy…maybe some sexy time on the beach with my husband.”

“You’re a menace, Angel.” He chuckled, pausing your walk to the beach to steal a quick kiss. “But anything for my sexy pregnant wife” kissing you again, “Beautiful mother of our daughter.”

“Our daughter is going to have her daddy wrapped around her tiny little finger.” You smirked, as you continued toward the beach.

“Just like her Momma.” He replied, chuckling. “Wouldn’t want it any other way, Angel.”

He led you to a cabana area he’d rented for you for the day. There were beach loungers set up in front, where you could lay in the sun and soak up the warm rays, but there were also loungers in the cabana to allow you to lay down out of the sun and rest without having to leave the beach. It came complete with full food and drink service from the resort. Your amazing and perfect husband had thought of everything.

“Before you get all comfortable out there, darlin’ you need sunscreen.” Jake reminded you.

“Are you worried about me burning…or do you just want a reason to rub your hands all over me in public without the threat of getting arrested?” You teased him.

“A little of both.” He admitted with a smirk, “I’ll always take any excuse to get my hands on my wife, Angel, you know that… it’s why you’re currently pregnant.”

“Does this mean I’ll be spending a lot of time pregnant over the next five to ten years of our marriage?” You laughed.

“I will happily give you as many babies as you want Angel.” He said, pulling you close, one hand naturally finding its home on your swollen belly, the other behind your head, tilting your head back before capturing your lips in a tender kiss.

“Let’s see how things go with our daughter first.” You suggested, “So far, she’s a handful just like her daddy.”

“The morning sickness finally eased up.” He reasoned, “And after several talks recently, she’s no longer using your bladder as a punching bag.”

“True.” You acknowledged, “Now she’s using my kidneys and rib cage for soccer practice and I swear she takes joy in giving me major heartburn.”

“I’ll have another talk with her.” He smiled, “But you’re not fooling me. I see you when you don’t think anyone is watching… or listening. You’re loving every moment, kidney shots and all.”

“I really am.” You sighed happily, rubbing your hand over your belly where your daughter was safely growing and developing. “I can’t even describe the feeling… knowing a part of you and a part of me…growing inside me. Getting to feel her move and being this close to her… knowing that once she’s born, I’ll never be this close to her again… I’ll have to share her, I’ll no longer be able to protect her from the world… It’s an incredible thing.”

“It’s pretty damn amazing from this side of things too, Angel.” He said gently, his hand joining yours on top of your belly, “Watching our little girl grow inside of you, knowing I helped put her there… seeing you literally grow a human, OUR human… protecting her, nourishing her, loving her… it about brings me to my knees. You’re already the most amazing momma in the world, Angel. Our little princess is so lucky she gets to have you as her momma. As for protecting her once she’s on the outside… I have zero doubts you’ll be fierce and badass at that. I’ve seen you in action protecting those you love. She’ll have us, and a squad full of uncles and aunts to keep her safe. Our little girl will be just fine.”

“You’re gonna make me cry.” You sniffled, tears threatening to spill over. “Not like it’s hard to do… it’s kinda low hanging fruit.”

“You said it, Angel.” He laughed, “But you’re adorable when you’re all emotional.”

“I love you, Stud.” You said, snuggling into your husband.

“I love you too, Angel.” He replied, holding you close.

After a moment, once the emotions had calmed down you pulled back a bit, “Can you put sunscreen on me now?”

“Absolutely,” He agreed, grinning, “Let me grab the bottle. Sit down on the lounger and I’ll get you all sorted.”

The two of you spent time laying in the sun, you reading a steamy romance novel, Jake reading an updated manual for new equipment to his jet.

“You know, My Love,” You teased him, “We’re on vacation, you shouldn’t be working.”

“I enjoy learning about my jet, Angel.” He defended himself, “Besides, wouldn’t you rather I know everything there is to know about it so I can be extra safe?”

“You already know that jet down to the last screw.” You laughed, “And I love that you’re thorough, Babe… it makes it a little easier to send you off on missions and deployments because you tackle those the same as your jet and you learn every detail given to you. I love that about you.”

“I will always do everything in my power and control to come home to you and our little girl.” He promised.

“I know.” You smiled, “And I know that you have amazing squadmates who have your back.”

“They’re alright.” He laughed playfully. Truth was, you knew he loved all of the Daggers and would do anything for them. He’d already been best friends with Javy coming into the Uranium mission that had formed the Daggers, but afterwards he and Bradley had formed an unbreakable bond and a strong friendship. Bradley had even asked Jake to be his best man in his wedding the month before. “Feel like getting in the water?”

“I could cool off.” You replied, “Going to need help getting up though.”

He set his manual down under his towel so it wouldn’t blow away and reached for your book so he could set it next to his before reaching out to lift you up. You swayed slightly into him, the change in position causing you to feel slightly lightheaded.

“Easy does it, Angel.” He said, “Are you ok? Do you need to go inside to rest for a bit?”

“No, I’m ok.” You replied, “I just stood too fast. Let’s go into the water, then we can cuddle in the cabana for a bit.”

“Cuddle?” You asked, smirking.

“Behave.” He chuckled, playfully swatting your butt.

You laughed, taking his hand and the two of you walked to the water. There were some waves but the surf wasn’t overly active. Jake still made sure to keep you close and his hands on you at all times while you were both in the water. You waded out until you were mostly past the break, the water to your chest, but barely above Jake’s belly. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in as close as possible with your very pregnant belly between you.

You leaned up on your tiptoes, your arms around his neck, pulling him down so you could kiss him. You didn’t hesitate to swipe your tongue over the seam of his lips, seeking entrance into his mouth. His own tongue came out to meet yours, the kiss deepening. He let his hands wander down to your butt, rubbing over your bikini clad cheeks.

“What are your thoughts on sex on the beach, Angel?” Jake asked, his head dipping down to kiss over your neck and shoulder.

“Oh my God.. I MISS those amazing little cocktails.” You sighed, “Penny makes the BEST Sex on the Beaches.”

“Angel, I was talking about literal sex on the beach.” He groaned, still trailing kisses over your collarbone, tasting the salt from the ocean water.

“Pretty sure THAT is how I ended up pregnant, Stud.” You teased him.

“The night after the bonfire?” He asked, lifting his head to look at you, a smirk playing on his lips, “Seriously?”

“The timing is perfect.” You shrugged, “Lord knows I DRANK enough of those sneaky little cocktails that night…”

“I remember.” He said, his voice going husky, dropping deeper, “You suggested we do an experiment to see if actual sex on the beach was as good as the drink.”

“Well, it looks like it exceeded expectations.” You giggled, pulling his head down to kiss him.

“So, how about round two?” He asked, his hands wandering back down to your butt.

“I’m way too pregnant to end up with sand in unfortunate places, so how about sex in a cabana?” You compromised, smirking.

“I think it’s time to head back to shore, Angel.” He replied, scooping you up bridal style and carrying you in towards the shore.

“Jake!” You squealed, “Put me down! I am way too heavy!”

“Angel, I can handle carrying my girls just fine.” He promised, “I would never let anything happen to either of you.”

“Such a softy.” You said, letting your fingers run over the wet hair at the nape of his neck.

“Don’t let that get out.” He teased, “I have a reputation to uphold.”

“The gig is up, Babe.” You laughed, “Everyone knows you’re not really an asshole. As soon as they saw you with Ruben’s kids it was all over.”

He carried you out of the water and over the sand back to the cabana before setting you back on your feet. It had shades that could be pulled down for privacy and to block out more sun, which Jake took advantage of as soon as you got inside the cabana. There was a large sun lounger that looked more like a bed, in the middle of the cabana with small tables set up on each side. With the shades pulled on the sides and the light weight material used as a curtain in the front of the cabana let down, it gave you a little privacy from prying eyes of other resort guests. It was at least a private beach, only open to those staying at the resort.

“This might have been easier before we were all wet.” You said, winding your arms around his neck as he came back to stand in front of you. “Now our suits are all clingy”

“Hmmm,” He hummed, leaning down to nibble at your jawline before working back towards your ear, whispering “I prefer my wife to be wet and clingy.”

A shiver ran through your whole body, arousal flooding your system, soaking your already wet bikini bottoms.

“Jake” You moaned, trying to push up against him, as much as your very pregnant belly would allow, “I need you to fuck me.”

“Your wish is my command, Angel.” He replied, guiding you back towards the lounger. He untied your bikini top, letting it fall to the floor of the cabana, making sure to block you from view of the outside world. “Fuck, I love your boobs.”

“Thought you were an ass man, Stud.” You smirked, knowing that your husband had been infatuated with your boobs since you’d become pregnant. They had increased two cup sizes by this point in your pregnancy, and you were told they’d get even bigger once you were breastfeeding your daughter. Jake was intrigued by it.

“When it comes to you, Angel there’s not a part of your body that doesn’t get me going.” He admitted, flashing his dimpled smile. He helped you to lay down on the lounger. He made sure you were propped up on the many decorative pillows and comfortable, leaning in for a quick kiss, before running his hands down over you, pausing to rest his hands on and gently kiss your bump, before continuing down, pulling your bikini bottoms off on his way.

The look of pure lust and adoration on your husband’s face was enough to give you confidence in your own body and not give in to the negative thoughts that tried to permeate your brain when you looked in the mirror. Your OB said it was normal as your body was rapidly changing, to have the negative feelings or insecurities but reminded you to be kind to yourself and if the thoughts became too intrusive to let her know so she could set you up with someone to talk to. Jake had been at that appointment and had made it his mission afterwards to make sure he knew how absolutely beautiful he found you and how incredible it was that you were growing an entire human.

“I think you’re overdressed.” You smiled, allowing your eyes to hungrily track over his sun kissed body. “And I believe I was promised Sex on the Beach.”

A/N: There it is! My second ever Jake fic! What do you think??

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#top gun maverick #jake seresin x reader #pick your poison #glen powell #bellaireland writes #top gun fan fiction

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cdragons · 2 months

Text

Bound by Embroidered Chains - Aemond Targaryen x Seamstress!OC x Jacaerys Velaryon - Chapter Two

Previous Chapter

Summary: Dragons have a habit in hoarding the prettiest of jewels, and pearls are of no exceptions.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ Obsessive Behavior (we all knew this was coming), tiny!Jace is delulu, tiny!Aemond is kind of a jerk in this one, Dark Themes, shit is going down, not betaread we burn like Harrenhal, etc. Also, translations for Valyrian will be added at the bottom! Also, I used an online translator for the High Valyrian, so it may not be great 🫠

Author's Note: I'M BACKKKKKK! I am so sorry for leaving this story alone for so long! I have been getting into other fandoms and making new stories because of those fandoms. But the two new trailers for HOTD season 2 brought me back! I swear I will be better at updating this story! But on the bright side, I made this chapter over 5k word length! I own only the plot and OCs of this story, please do not repost without my permission.

Despite living in the Red Keep for nearly your entire life, you still felt hopelessly lost as you walked down the corridors beside the prince. Like you and Aemond, the sight of you walking side by side with the heir of the Iron Throne’s firstborn son made for an unusual sight for the courtiers of the Royal Family. But this was not the case with the serving staff, which comprised smallfolk. Your mother was a favored companion by Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra. Despite coming from such humble beginnings, Doreah of Essos became a highly regarded member of the serving staff belonging to the House of Targaryen. All the maids respected your mother, while most stewards who served under knights idolized your father. And as your mother’s daughter, they were very used to the vision of one of their humble sewists’ children playing with the Royal children.

As a result, no one so much as batted an eye when they saw you walking down the halls directly beside Prince Jacaerys. It would have made a much more unusual sight if your presence was absent by either his or his uncle’s side. The older staff bowed their heads in respect to the prince while also flashing a small but kind smile at you. The younger serving girls were still too new in the ways of the court and beamed with broad smiles at the sight of you before acknowledging Jace. You grinned back as you inwardly beamed at the knowledge that Head Septa Marlow was with you.

She would have scolded those girls fiercely if she had caught them greeting an apprentice seamstress before the prince.

You turned your head to glance at your childhood friend, who happened to be second in line for the Iron Throne, as you both made your way to his mother’s chambers. Your eyebrows furrowed as you took in the troubled expression on his face. Just a few minutes ago, he was practically bouncing on his feet as the two of you left Aemond alone in the Godswood. But now it felt as if he was a thousand miles away from you despite being so close. Having been by his side since his birth, you always felt a sense of protectiveness toward the young prince. No matter his station, you were a month past your third name-day when he was brought into this world. It was natural that you were perspective to his shifting moods.

“Jace?” you softly called out to him. You were relieved to have brought him out of his thoughts. “Are you alright?”

Jacaerys stopped in the middle of the stone corridor. Staring at you with those large brown eyes, he looked much older than his actual age. When someone as happy and bright as Jace became somber, it was always a reason to worry. Was Rhaenyra all right? Had he been listening to those awful rumors of his true birth?

“Ashi’,” he began, “what were you and Aemond discussing in the Godswoods’ Heart Tree?”

Ah, so that’s what this is about.

You inwardly grimaced as you realized how foolish you were to worry. With Aemond and Jace, it was always something one did to the other. And almost every time, it was up to you to stop their squabbling by being forced into the middle. You were not as blind as everyone in the castle liked to believe you were. You knew that both boys had an unhealthy attachment to you for whatever reason they conjured in their minds. Reasons that were only encouraged by their mothers.

You were still cross when they interrupted you and your mother’s reunion with your father. The matter was really very stupid. Jace had made fun of Aemond for not having a dragon during their family supper with the King. However, Jace only did so because Aemond and Aegon were snickering to themselves about how fat Princess Rhaenyra had grown due to her third pregnancy.

It didn’t make any difference to you, in all honesty. All you remembered from that time was that your time with your beloved father was forcibly cut short. To make matters worse, the two boys’ outbursts startled your mother, and the stress was so terrible that it nearly caused her to faint.

As a result, you decided not to speak to either boy for nearly two weeks. It had grown to the point where Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra practically begged you to forgive their sons—but even a royal command would not budge you. It did not matter how many blueberry tarts or honey cakes they gave for your forgiveness. You made it very clear that you would resolve never to speak to either boy unless they sincerely apologized to your mother for the awful fright they gave her. You finally resumed your friendship with them after your mother asked you herself to forgive them after Aemond gifted her a lovely bouquet of blue and purple hyacinths, and Jace gifted her a basket full of her favorite honey lemon cakes.

“Jace,” you groaned, “you cannot be serious.”

“Ashi’, you’ve been spending so much time with him lately. I feel like I don’t ever get to see you anymore.”

Rolling your eyes, you walked away from him as you sped up your pace to reach their destination. You only made it a few meters from where you were earlier before Jacaerys caught up to you and firmly grasped your wrist to keep you in place.

“I’m serious, Ashi’!” he insisted. “Unless it’s for fittings or when the Maester seeks your help teaching us High Valyrian, I rarely ever see you anymore!” His eyes had a wet sheen in the light, and his lip quivered slightly. “I miss you. Luke misses you. And so does Mother and Father!”

If the pitiful sight was enough to fill you with guilt, his next question nearly broke your heart.

“Do you – do you still consider me your friend?”

“Oh, Jace-” you pulled your younger friend into your arms “- of course I do. I’ve been so busy with my duties and my mother’s health. She and Princess Rhaenys have been so concerned over Lady Laena’s pregnancy and are trying to convince Prince Daemon to travel to Driftmark for the baby’s arrival.”

Jacaerys wrapped his arms around you, eager to feel your warmth. If the gods were kind, time would stop, and he and you would stay like this forever. But he became sad at the mention of his Aunt Laena. He had heard his father recount hundreds of stories of their time together at Driftmark in their youth. Jace knew his father missed his sister terribly, and he was sure she missed him the same.

You noticed your friend’s change in behavior. You looked at him with concerned eyes, and his heart began to race at your care for him.

“Oh, Jace,” you whispered, “have I upset you somehow? I did not mean to!”

Jace frantically shook his head. “No, Ashi’! I just wondered…do you think I’ll ever meet my Aunt Laena?” he softly asked. “Do you think she’ll like me? Can you tell me more about my cousins?”

You rolled your eyes at his request. He had yet to do so despite your advice for Jace to send a raven or two to his cousins. You hadn’t seen the twins for many years, but the three of you wrote to each other so often that it felt like you would recognize them by how they spoke alone.

“I’m sure she and your cousins will adore you, Jace. Baela is excited about her new sibling. She says she’s close to riding Moondancer! Once she gets big enough, she hopes to ride her with Rhaena!”

Jace wondered how you’d react if you knew he didn’t write to his cousins because he was scared they wouldn’t like him. To be honest, he didn’t really care about them at all. He only cared about the way you smiled at him, and only him, when he asked.

“Mother!”

Still seated at her dark-stained ebony-wood desk, Princess Rhaenyra of House Targaryen scribbled away with her black swan’s feather quill, nearly hidden behind stacks of dusty tomes and piles of scrolls from across the Seven Kingdoms and, despite being heavy with child, remained to be one of the most exquisite beauties across the realm. Hearing her eldest son’s voice, she looked up from her papers and smiled at the two children standing in her chambers' doorway.

“Jace! You made it and brought our little Lady Ashirri with you.”

You looked down at your feet as your cheeks slightly pinkened at the attention brought to you. Princess Rhaenyra was one of your mother’s closest friends and one of the few belonging to the noble houses that approved of your father’s rise in status. But his title was only in name, and so many in the keep look down on him with ill-hidden disdain. And as a result, many in the keep looked down on you with the same contempt and disgust.

The image of Lord Otto Hightower’s cold and judging eyes gazing down at you with arrogance came to mind before you could block it out.

You lifted your skirts and bowed in a deep curtsy in respect for Princess Rhaenyra. “Yes, my princess. Prince Jacaerys told me that you required my assistance with something?”

Princess Rhaenyra warmly smiled and laughed. “Yes. My husband seems at a crossroads in deciding which fabrics best suit his sister. Although, as you can see, he is being unnecessarily picky about it all.”

Her husband, Prince Consort Laenor of House Velaryon, stood beside your mother with his arms spread wide apart. On each arm were textiles of luxurious materials and superb stitching patterns. His close friend and confidant, Ser Qarl Correy, stood close behind him. The crown princess spoke truthfully as the entire room was filled with dozens of fabric bolts, from brilliant orange-marigold Dornish satin to iridescent light-azure Yi Tish silk. Your eyes were filled with excitement and wonder at the magnificent sight. You raced to touch the imported textiles.

“Is this silk truly from Yi Ti?” you softly whispered while carefully stroking the surface with one finger. “It looks almost too pretty to be real. This color would beautifully complement Lady Laena’s complexion and silver curls.”

Your mother and Prince Laenor smiled in agreement. It was softer than anything you’ve ever touched. Yi Tish silk was famous for its textile quality. One bolt was worth double your mother’s monthly wage at the Red Keep. The color alone was mastery at its finest. You knew from personal experience that blue was an incredibly tricky dye to handle. Although it was a primary color, it was rare in nature. You had to devote hours, if not days, to find the correct materials to yield the desired tone and shade properly. But that work is useless if the dye ends up damaging the fabric. Dark blue was one matter – it was still stunning, and many nobles would pay a hefty amount of coin for it. But to own such beauty, you wouldn’t dare imagine the price for a few yards, let alone an entire bolt.

“Fine eye as always, little lady,” Laenor jovially laughed. “Yes, I’m sure at least one of these fabrics will make a suitable dress for my sister before she gifts me another niece or nephew. I’m afraid your mother is very cross with me at the moment. Any delay in choosing the fabric will result in her being unable to finish the dress before the baby is born.”

“Lady Laena will need it to be loose and not so tight around her waist,” you spoke matter-of-factly. “Muña says that most pregnant women have rashes and inflammations after giving birth, so the dress must be made of a fabric that won’t cause irritation. Let’s see…excuse me for a moment?”

You took out the small leather-bound journal Kepa gave you as a gift from one of his many voyages with Lord Corlys that you kept in your dress pocket, along with a small stick of charcoal. You drew out the image as quickly as possible whenever inspiration struck, regardless of the time or place. It was a habit that could lead to horrible misunderstandings, but being scolded and berated mattered little to you if it meant you could train yourself to be half as talented a seamstress as your mother.

After flipping past all your previous ideas, you finally spotted a blank page. Racing to your mother’s side for help, you excitedly shoved the journal in her face.

You thought aloud and drew out the concept simultaneously. “I think it should be blue. Even if Lady Laena married Prince Daemon, she is still a Velaryon by birth! Maybe if we chose a material that looks like water, it would make her feel closer to Driftmark and Lady Rhaenys!”

Doreah beamed from ear to ear as she crouched down and took you in a tight embrace. It filled her with such joy to know her daughter had developed such a tender and compassionate heart. You were a deeply empathetic girl who always considered the needs of others before your own. Her little pearl had a heart of gold that shone through the darkest storms. She planted a loud kiss on your cheek before letting you go.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea, my little pearl,” her eyes twinkled as she cupped your cheeks. “I have just the fabric in mind for it.”

Lady Doreah Pyke pulled out a large bolt of shimmering azure blue silk velvet. The rippled pattern and texture matched the transcendent and melancholy shores that surrounded High Tide. You gasped in delight at the sight of it. It was exactly the color you imagined! You gently caressed the hand-pleated panels, expecting it to feel crinkly and cheap despite its luster. But the fabric sheen and its soft, velvety texture made you want to wrap yourself with it like a warm blanket.

Your mother thoughtfully inspected the fabric. “Yes, this will be perfect. However, I think instead of a dress, it may be better to be used as a cloak. If the result is as beautiful as my little pearl envisions it to be, it would be a shame to be a dress for one lady. If it is a cloak, it can be passed down from mother to daughter.”

“An heirloom cloak…” you murmured in excitement. Your mother was a genius. “It sounds so romantic…the waves should be hand-painted and glass beads strung and stitched into the fabric. Oh, Lady Laena will look like a sea goddess! Would she like it enough to pass it down to Ladies Baela or Rhaena?”

Doreah chuckled at your delight and booped your nose. “She will love it, my darling – especially because you will be helping me make it.”

“A wonderful idea!” exclaimed Laenor. “Who better than our lovely Doreah and her little pearl to complete the task?”

“Really?” you gasped. To work beside your mother on such a prestigious project…was like a dream too good to be true. “Mother, do you…do you truly think I am ready?”

Jace jumped to his friend’s side to hug her. “Ashirri! This is wonderful! You and Lady Pyke will make the most beautiful cloak in the Seven Kingdoms - I know it!”

Rhaenyra and Laenor glanced knowingly at their son’s support for his dearest childhood companion. Everyone in the Red Keep knew of Jacaerys Velaryon's infatuation with Ashirri Pyke. If only the gods had allowed their stations to be so different. It seemed cruel to let two young souls meet and grow beside one another without the hope or possibility of love being borne.

You beamed at Jace with a brilliant smile that shone with so much radiance that looking at you felt nothing less than sin. You took his hand in yours as you squeezed his hand in silent thanks and appreciation for his words. In the young prince’s eyes, you were more heavenly than the Maiden herself. He hopes to be seen as strong as the Warrior in yours one day.

“Kirimvose, jorrāelagon raqiros,” you said in your mother’s native tongue, softly stroking your thumb on his skin as a rosy hue bloomed on Jace’s cheeks. “Muña, īlon līs jiōragon naejot mirre rȳ istin! Nyke jāhor sagon going ēlī!”

You were about to leave before stopping and tracing back your steps to bow to Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Consort Laenor quickly. Your cheeks were bright red from embarrassment from forgetting such basic etiquette.

“My princess, my prince, forgive me for not remembering to thank you for granting me this opportunity and forgetting to leave before you dismissed me. I was too caught up in my excitement. But, I swear that I will not let you down.”

The adults in the room shared amused expressions at your excitement. Ashirri Pyke’s transparent honesty and sweet nature were so refreshing to not only the Targaryen Princess and her prince consort husband but also the entire Royal Family. She was the perfect combination of her parents’ personalities. From Hotho, you adopted your father’s unwavering honesty and sense of justice. From Doreah, you were your mother’s copy in sweetness and purity. You were a highborn noble in all but birth and title.

Rhaenyra waved off your apology and nodded. “No need for apologies, little pearl. Run along. There is work that needs to be done, and your mother and I still have things to discuss between old friends.”

You pouted to hear that your mother would not be joining you. After all, this was a very important job, and you had hoped this would provide an opportunity to learn more of your mother’s secrets in her trade. But who were you to refuse a princess’ orders? You bowed once more before waving goodbye to Jace and everyone in the room before racing to your chambers. The disappointment you felt moments before was washed away by the jittering and buzz of your creativity rushing through your mind.

The waves would have to be hand-painted – that goes without saying. But should you paint silver instead of ivory for the sea foam? And did you have a steady enough hand to replicate each pattern perfectly? You were going to need a template to trace it.

You were going to need dozens if not hundreds, of beads ranging from violet to turquoise to teal. Were there any artisans in Kings Landing that could make such a large quantity? Were there any skilled enough to ensure the glass and crystals would yield such clarity and durability? You may need to ask Kepa if he made any glassmaker friends from Essos or the Free Cities.

Could you dip into your personal collection of sea crystals and pearls? Mother would be cross with you, but it would look so splendid against the fabric!

While racing down the many halls and past the flurry of chambermaids and squires, you came across Aemond. His trademark frown on his freckled face quickly turned to a kind smile.

“Ashirri! Mother wants to–”

But you did not have time to stop and quickly ran past him. You interrupted him with an apology.

“Usōven, Aemond! Yn issa muña se Dārilaros Laenor teptan mirros hen rōvēgrie import! Nyke emagon naejot jiōragon naejot mirre paktot qrīdrughagon!”

Aemond owlishly blinked before realizing you had spoken to him in High Valyrian. He took a few moments to mentally translate what you said before calling out your name and asking you to explain.

“Umbagon! Skoros gaomagon ao nūmāzma?”

But when he turned, you were nowhere in sight, and he was left alone in the middle of the stone corridor. His shoulders slumped in deep disappointment at seeing you running away from him. But he supposed that such a slight could be forgiven since you were his loveliest and dearest friend. On the plus side, he was gifted with the sight of how the sunshine rays peering through the windows darted your glossy locks and wrapped you in a warm halo that brought out even more of your natural charm and prettiness.

As soon as you reached your room, you shut the door and grabbed every colored charcoal stick you’ve been gifted since you began learning your letters. Grabbing your big sketchbook, you immediately began jotting down your vision. By the time your mother joined you, your entire floor was covered with pages filled with a kaleidoscope of blues, greens, violets, and silver. Doreah was ecstatic of the display of your budding talent and took you in her arms for a tight hug.

The next few weeks were the most thrilling of your young life. You would spend hours on end with your mother, going over and debating which colors would match the tone of the cloak. Your mother found out about your idea to incorporate your pearls in the stitching, and she gave you a lecture that put all her past scoldings to shame. Eventually, you relented. In truth, you were a tad reluctant to part with your pearls. Each pearl was a gift from your beloved kepa for each country he visited. He said it was his way of giving you a tiny part of the world to his little pearl.

Because you were so busy trimming and stitching, you barely had time to read with Aemond under the Heart Tree in the Godswood or watch Jace practice his sword fighting with Ser Harwin Strong. You and your mother could only be removed from the cloak when either Queen Alicent or Princess Rhaenyra ordered your presence. They often expressed their woes at your decreased presence in court. As a result, your mother would take small breaks to share tea with Queen Alicent to discuss your progress as a seamstress, or she would get called by Princess Rhaenyra to her chambers so that they may speak their most private thoughts and troubles in High Valyrian.

You would often escape their orders by spending time with Princess Helaena. She would sneak into your workspace to bring her own embroidery and ask for your guidance with the more intricate patterns. While most of the court found the second princess a bit…odd – you took to her presence like green to pink. The two of you greatly differed in personality, but that made your friendship with her all the more special. You always made sure to treat her with kind words and common courtesy.

The most rude you had been to her was when she showed you a massive spider in her hands, and you loudly shrieked before crawling under your bed as a reflex. It took a few minutes before you could rejoin her. When she asked if you liked to hold Gerald the Spider, you took your father’s thickest riding gloves before you went near the beast.

You only held Gerald in your palms a few moments before you cried and begged Helaena to remove him from your person. But despite the terrors you got from Gerald the Spider that night, it was worth it if Helaena could smile as happily as she had when you agreed. She was so pleased that she didn’t correct you when you called her by the nickname you made for her, ‘Hel.’ In fact, you were almost certain that the nickname made her happier than you holding the spider.

But despite the peace these past few weeks have brought you and your family, such joy was not granted to the rest of your friends. Trouble was brewing in the Red Keep for House Targaryen – a fact you were unaware of until much later. You were returning from the rookery after being notified of receiving a letter from Baela. She was so excited about the arrival of her new sibling. You were reading the letter until you heard soft cries in the library. Searching for the source, you were shocked to find Aemond crying in a secluded section of the Royal Library. Distressed at your friend’s tears, you immediately knelt and hugged him close to you.

Clinging to your arms like you were his anchor, you could only make out the words: ‘pig’ and ‘dread.’ When you voiced your confusion, Aemond explained once more.

“They gave me a pig!” he barked, wiping away the angry tears from his violet eyes. “They said they found a dragon for me, and it was a pig! The ‘Pink Dread’ they called it!”

You lowered his head to the crook of your shoulder. “Aemond, who’s ‘they’?” you softly asked.

“Aegon! Who else?” he exclaimed. Your simple linen frock muffled his yells. “My sister’s bastards were there, too!”

Your blood chilled. He couldn’t mean…Jace wasn’t…

“Aemond, you can’t say such things,” you warned. “It’s considered treason by your father’s laws.”

But Aemond wasn’t listening. “I hate those bastards. They shouldn’t carry the Targaryen name. Their last name should be ‘Waters.’ It’s the name that bastards born in the Crownlands carry. Northern bastards are called ‘Snow,’ ‘Sand’ for Dorne, ‘Flowers’ for the Reach–”

“‘Pyke’ for the Iron Islands,” you snapped and let him go. “Am I a bastard, Aemond? Am I what you hate? Do you hate my father?”

Aemond was shocked at your venomous tone. When he realized what he had done, he quickly tried to make amends.

He shook his head. “My pearl…no, no, no,” he said. “You aren’t a bastard. I wasn’t talking about you. I was talking about–”

You clenched your fists and stood on your feet. “I know who you were talking about! That does not make it right!”

Aemond was getting angry. Why weren’t you taking his side? Had his whore of a sister already poisoned you against him? Had Jace already dirtied you with his filthy, bastard blood? He stood up and stared you down with fury in those beautiful violet eyes that you once so adored. But all you saw was his grandfather.

“Your father is a bastard,” he stated matter-of-factly. “He was a bastard from the Iron Islands that Lord Greyjoy didn’t want! He wasn’t worthy of his noble father’s house name, so he is named ‘Pyke’!”

You shook your head. “There is more to family than names and blood. I am neither a Targaryen nor a Velaryon. I do not carry a speck of your noble house’s blood, but I consider you and Jace my dearest friends! To me, you are my brothers! You and him are my family because I love you, not because of blood! Does that count for anything?”

“I never thought of you as a sister,” he spat out. “Not once did I consider you family.”

Devastation overwhelms your broken heart as tears flood your and Aemond’s eyes. He reaches out to hold your hand, but you step back. Once more, he tries to keep you closer to him, but you turn around and run to the door. When you reach it, he calls out your name and begs you to let him explain. Once more, you turn to face him to see he has not moved an inch. You feel so small and insignificant underneath the massive stone framework, but you summoned the sea of hurt and rage crashing inside your heart.

“I used to wonder how a horrible and mean-spirited man like Otto Hightower could be the grandsire of such a sweet boy,” your voice trembled, but you continued to steel yourself. “I thought…you were smart enough not to listen to such horrible things. I thought you were my friend. But I was wrong. I was so horribly wrong. What your brother, Jace, and Luke had done to you was cruel and unfair. But Aemond…what you had become…I-I don’t even recognize you anymore.”

With that being the final word, you raced to your mother’s chambers. You cried into her skirts and told her what happened – of the Pink Dread, Aemond’s cruel transformation, and the ruin of your friendship with him. You sobbed out your wish to leave the Red Keep and never return.

Doreah Pyke immediately thought of what Princess Rhaenyra had informed her in the afternoon. ‘Nyra told her that she would be moving her family to Dragonstone. Each day since her failed attempt to match Jace with Helaena, the Red Keep feels less safe and more hostile to her and her children. Since Harwin assaulted Ser Cole, tensions between the princess and the queen have reached an all-time high.

“Come with me,” her princess begged Doreah. “Come with my family to Dragonstone.”

“Oh, ‘Nyra,” whispered Doreah, “I don’t know. Dragonstone is so far from King’s Landing. And Ali would never–”

“Alicent is becoming more like her father each day,” Rhaenyra interjected. “She wants to put her son on my father’s throne – both she and her father are conspiring against me.”

Rhaenyra clasped Doreah’s hands in her own. “I know you want to believe she is the same girl from our youth. But Otto Hightower has sunk his poisoned claws in her and will stop at nothing to crown Aegon when my father passes. I need people I can trust by my side. People like you, my sweet Dory, and your husband.”

“…But Ashirri, my pearl,” sighed Doreah. “She will be so devastated. She grew up running in these halls, playing in the Godswoods, exploring this castle’s corners and shadows. This is her home.”

“Your daughter will flourish wherever she goes,” insists Rhaenyra. “She will never be alone – not with Jace, Luke, and Joffery by her side. And forgive me for what I am about to say, my friend, but…King’s Landing no longer agrees with you as it used to.”

Doreah sighed and gazed out the window with slumped shoulders. What her princess said was true but hard to hear. As she grew older, she found the air and noise outside the Red Keep more sour and rancid. It made her miss the clean and fresh sea breeze in Essos. Rhaenyra was not the only one who had noticed Doreah’s melancholy. Hotho, her beloved Iron Knight, has remained in King’s Landing after learning of her despondence. Her husband implores her to care more for her health – if not for herself, but their daughter.

Doreah waved off their concerns, but perhaps…they had a point. Stroking your hair to calm you down, your mother asked if you would be open to the possibility of moving to Dragonstone. She reassured you that she and your father would be there with you and that you would still be around Jace, Luke, and Joffery if you ever felt lonely.

You agreed before she finished and immediately started packing. By the end of the month, you had not spoken another word to Aemond and left with Princess Rhaenyra and her family to Dragonstone. You did not look back. You wanted to leave King’s Landing and Aemond as soon as possible. You wanted to leave this wretched castle and have peace once more.

While others stared at the obsidian castle with trepidation, you felt hope. Unpacking your things from your trunk and knapsack, you were determined to leave behind all the political headaches and focus solely on stitching with your mother and sailing with your father.

If only life could be that simple.

Translations:

Muña - mother

Kepa - father

Kirimvose, jorrāelagon raqiros…Muña, īlon līs jiōragon naejot mirre rȳ istin! Nyke jāhor sagon going ēlī – “Thank you, dear friend…Mother, we must get to work at once! I will bet going first!”

Usōven, Aemond! Yn issa muña se Dārilaros Laenor teptan mirros hen rōvēgrie importance! Nyke emagon naejot jiōragon naejot mirre paktot qrīdrughagon! – “I am sorry, Aemond. But my mother and Prince Laenor gave me something of great importance! I have to get to work right away!”

Umbagon! Skoros gaomagon ao nūmāzma?” – “Wait! What do you mean?”

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etherealily · 16 days

Text

𝟡 𝕝𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕤 // Nate Jacobs.

Nate Jacobs + Fem!reader. Darker. SFW, but discretion advised.

Part 1 : Whiplash (thanks for the love on there)

Part 3 : Blessed

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Desc. : You should be grateful.

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He wasn't supposed to text you. He was supposed to take the beating you'd given him for being a prick, like a man, and shut the fuck up about it.

But here you were, midnight, staring at the chat that had started it all.

'yo, u up?'

You rolled your eyes, going back to your scrolling.

'I hate seenzoners.'

You liked his message.

'That's so much worse.'

'The fuck do u want?'

Nate Jacobs sent a voice message.

You could have just ignored it. You could just block him. You could just… stop. But the allure was far too much. The urge of finding out what he wanted was too strong.

"Guess where I am."

He could've just texted that. No need for a voice message, but he was Nate Jacobs.

"I don't know, the psych ward?"

"You wanna know? You'll have to drive and follow my instructions, though. You trust me enough for that?"

Ha. No fucking chance. "No, I'm good, thanks."

"Oh, so you'll text me, but won't see me in person?"

His voice was oddly sultry, as if he'd either just woken up or hadn't slept for days. Most likely the second one.

"Bingo. Go to sleep, Jacobs."

And then he sent you a picture of him from the bleachers of your school's football stadium - how the fuck did he get in?

"C'mon, don't you want to see what our school looks like at night?"

Uh, yes. But with him? No.

"It's 12:05, ASSHOLE. No fucking way."

"This is the scene where you cave and meet me and we have a cute little nighttime school montage where we sit and talk about life."

You listened to that message a good four times before you stopped laughing.

"This is the scene where I block you."

"I will come over if you don't come to the school. Uh, y'know, if you want your parents to think you're fooling around with the QB."

"I will literally shoot you if you come within fifty feet of my house."

"Come. I'll make it worth your while."

Was it possible to hear smirks?

"I'm not coming, Nate."

No way he was actually at the high school. It was probably an insanely good edit.

"You will be."

The FUCK was that supposed to mean? Not like he could force you to show up.

"Wanna bet?"

"Sure. Fifty bucks says you show up to the high school tonight."

"Not blowing fifty bucks on anything, even if I do win."

"What's it going to take for you to come? Look, I-I know it's been weird, and I might've scared you, but that's… that wasn't my intention, I swear."

Yeah, his intention was just to show you what his blood looked like. You liked his message once more, rolling your eyes.

"Dude, seriously, I swear, I'm not like, a serial killer or anything. You can bring pepper spray, a taser, whatever, if it makes you feel better. I'm just- okay, fuck, you're right. Dumb idea, trying to convince you like this."

Wait, okay, good. That was good. He was getting the message.

Another voice message.

"I forgot who I was talking to. You leave me no choice."

"What?" No.

And then, you received a video. He was teetering off the edge of the top-most row of bleachers. With a gun at his head.

"Come on, Y/N, this is getting really sad, that the only way I can grab your attention is by almost killing myself."

"I don't care. Do whatever. Not falling for it this time."

═════════════════════ ⋆♠️⋆ ═══════════════════

"FUCK!", you yelled, as you found yourself running frantically through the school football field for the second time in two weeks.

You'd actually kept your word for a while, pushing out every Nate-related thought for a good night's sleep - you didn't fall for it.

Until McKay called and informed you that Nate wasn't picking up his phone - and that his last message was something along the lines of : 'Call Y/N if you don't hear from me in the next couple of minutes'.

He was deranged. Playing Russian Roulette with his own life was absolutely deranged.

"You actually showed."

GOOD, he was still alive, meaning you could kill him.

You didn't speak. That would simply complicate things, because then you'd have to look at him.

"Plus, you didn't flinch when you saw me. Think that's a win for me in the trust department."

You stood there, glaring at him as he jumped down from the bleachers, even doing that dangerously, as if he was a cat with nine lives, or he was playing a video game and would just respawn.

"You know, you could say something."

He wasn't getting impatient, though, like his tone was trying to portray. No, he was getting more amused. He liked this. He liked the fact that he got you to come to a basically abandoned-for-the-holidays-high school at midnight. He reveled in it.

"Like hey, Nate, thanks for convincing me to actually live a little for a change instead of staying cooped up in my house.", he suggested.

You punched him.

Yeah. You kept running across that field till you were close enough and you punched him right then and there.

You full-on punched him, shoved him back, slapped him, clawed at him. "Stop FUCKING doing this to me! STOP! You can't FUCKING do this to me!", you screamed, hitting him repeatedly on his chest.

He took every beating, and the fact that it seemed he was trying not to laugh just egged you on even more to actually kill him, make his nose bleed, make his head fall clean off his egotistical body.

Eventually, though, it seemed even Nate Jacobs had his limit. He grappled against your hands as he held them between both your chests, clenching his jaw. He wouldn't risk saying anything, seeing as your eyes were already burning with tears.

"You…", you cried out as he shifted his grip on your hands to only one hand, wrapping the other around you. "…Can't keep…"

"Shh, shh, I know.", he muttered as he rested his chin on your head. "Shh, I had to."

"No, you didn't."

He kissed your head, then your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, and stopped for a moment, hovering over your lips but not touching them, as though he was more scared than you were. "You know I did."

You wondered if he could taste the tears, whether he relished it. Knowing what little you did of him, he might have.

"I would've come."

"No, you wouldn't have. Shh." He was right, but there had to be some other way.

"You know what, sweetheart?"

It was sickening how he could do this to you and then use words of endearment against you.

"You should actually be grateful."

And that's when you noticed that he was actually gripping onto your hair, tightening it when your face didn't show any contortion due to pain (only contortion due to unbridled rage and the urge to stab him with your car keys).

"I usually hurt people to get what I want. With you, I'm hurting myself."

You fought the urge to say 'so fucking what?'

"You're not bleeding, baby, that's what you don't get. You're untouched, and safe, and not bleeding. Me, however?"

What was his point? That he was being a gentleman by scaring you half to death instead of having a normal adult conversation?

"I'm bleeding. I'm hurt. I'm in pain. But I'm still holding you."

He said it with exaggerated magnanimity, like he was doing you a favour, or something, like all your problems, trauma, worries, stress, had just disappeared because he was holding you in his 'big strong arms'.

"Then stop!"

"Neither of us wants me to stop holding you."

"I do."

He grinned, knowingly, with a subtle shake of his head. "No, you don't."

"Let me go."

"No."

"Let me go, Nate."

"Fine. Because you called me Nate and not Jacobs.", he nodded, letting go of you and throwing up his arms. "Don't hit me again."

"Was McKay in on this?"

He frowned momentarily, before realization swept over his face. "Shit. Yeah, no, he wasn't. I should text him, huh?"

Oh, now he was asking if he should be a courteous human being?

You watched him loathingly, as he typed out what you guessed was a half-assed apology.

'Sorry, McKay, I'm good, man. Chicks, y'know?' or some absolutely fucked up shit like that, to be sure.

"Done. Now, will you stop being so square and enjoy the fact that you're here at school at midnight?"

"What?" Enjoy?

"I'll bet this is your first time out at midnight period, let alone your first time out at midnight somewhere you're not legally supposed to be."

"Why am I here?"

The condescending look he gave you set your teeth on edge. 'Oh, poor, naive girl. Of course she doesn't even know why she's here. This is why I told her to stay in my grasp. She never listens.'

FUCKING ASSHOLE.

"You're my good luck charm. My good luck charm, but I heard you're fucking Shane. You can't be doing that."

The softness in his movements, the gentleness, it had either completely stopped, or entirely overshadowed the fact that he had put you through yet another nerve-wracking event that would raise your blood pressure.

Shane who, Shane who, Shane- oh. Shane.

Not so much fucking as went on one date with, but it was better for everyone if Nate thought you had already gone that far.

"Why not?"

"He's a punk."

"You're one to talk."

"Look, he plays defense. What if you're just, like, intensely fortunate? Can't have him sneak in a quickie before the game and then he's lucky."

It's like he wanted you to punch him again.

"He's on your team. You'll win anyway."

He shrugged, as though he could see where you were coming from, but was about to respectfully absolutely ruin your argument.

"I like to win."

"Not a team player, are you?"

"Never claimed to be."

══════════════════════ ⋆♠️⋆ ═══════════════════

He was so clearly getting frustrated with your lack of response - the initial dopamine and thrill of being a disgusting element of surprise by shooting/not-shooting himself in the head gone.

But what could you say?

You'd already ghosted Shane after the date had tanked, so technically there was no reason for you to still be here. The chances of a 'lucky quickie' were virtually zero.

And so, you just stood there, the two of you, with inexplicable rage pooling within.

Your senses were heightened, your emotions wilder than the crazed look in your eyes as he stood there, looking down at you like an adult looking down at their childhood toy. As if you were the naivest, most precious, pathetically adorable thing he owned, reminding him of a simpler time.

At this point, even a rabbit's foot had been treated with more respect than you.

And you hated every moment of it because it was thrusted upon you, just like the silence of the eerie, void-like field you two were in.

"Why are you like this, Y/N?", he groaned, with the nerve to sound tired.

You? Why were you like this? What about him?

"You're… so cold." His hands flexed as if they were about to move from your hair to your throat. "Just… let loose, please. You're the reason I'm winning, I'd at least like to get to know you!"

"Oh, so this is like, an interview? Is she good enough to be associated with me? You think you're hot shit? Dude, I- you gotta realize how fucked up all of this is."

You were practically pleading. Acknowledge your absurdity, Nate Jacobs, please.

"Hey, whoa, look, you chose to associate yourself with me. Not my problem, ok?", he spat back, clearly happy with the return of banter.

"I didn't choose any of this!"

"You requested to follow me after I followed you. You chose not to block me after I followed you."

"You're putting this all on me?"

That's what normal people do ; they follow people back! He was grasping at straws, but it still seemed as though he had an iron grip on them.

"There wouldn't have been a first time if you didn't care so goddamn much." Like he was mocking you. You almost screamed. You almost hit him. He was so nonchalant.

But that… rang true. However, the humanitarian in you was adamant that there was absolutely no one cold enough to shrug off a video of someone slicing so effortlessly into their palm and exposing their blood so unabashedly.

Well, except Nate Jacobs himself.

"But, y'know what, Y/N?", he said, clearing his throat, matter-of-factly. "That's all in the past. Because now, now, we're going to sort out this arrangement between us and everything will go back to normal."

Normal? Normal as in, both of you go back to being strangers? Unlikely.

"Arrangement?"

"How this thing is going to go. Before every game, you fist-bump me. You don't touch any other players whatsoever, Blackhawk or otherwise."

Great, he was policing who you could fist-bump now.

"I- you brought me here at midnight for this?"

"Uh, no, I brought you here at midnight for fun.", he replied, scoffing. "But since you wanted to be all violent and physical, I thought we should stick to business."

Did he mean to be this insufferable? Was it a bit? There was no way an actual human being could act like this, yes? There was no way anyone could think that this was a justifiable response to a genuine question. Right?

At this point, you didn't know anymore.

Nate Jacobs had officially stumped you.

"If I say okay, can I leave?"

"No, you cannot leave, but you definitely can go sit over there and think about your little attitude before I bring out the tequila."

He burst out laughing at your annoyed face, slinging a heavy arm around your shoulder in an oddly possessive display of 'familiarity'.

"Relax. Loosen up, like I said, and you'll be fine.", he snorted, and that was your only indication that he did not, in fact, actually wish to put you into time-out.

The insane man with a gun had a sense of humour, apparently.

"You brought tequila?"

"I told you, the whole point of tonight was fun and getting to know the reason I'm winning better. So, sit."

You sat, still glaring up at him. You must have looked absolutely fucking cute or something, because he pouted at you before reaching into a duffle bag you hadn't noticed before and whipping out two bottles of straight tequila.

"Body shots?"

"Jacobs…"

"I'm joking, I'm joking. You'll come around soon, though. They all do."

Great. That's brilliant. You'd been reduced from a stranger, to a bitch, to a joke, to now a stereotype. This was just spectacular.

"Why me?"

That question seemed to genuinely catch him off-guard.

Good. Now he knows what this past week with him has been like.

"Hm?'

"Why me? Why am I the good luck charm?"

"I don't know."

"You could just be a really good player. You don't know, you haven't gone a single game without it, so you assume you're winning because of it."

"The third game was the one you weren't there for. You must remember hearing about it, though? Most embarrassing game for East Highland, I swear. 34-nil? That was shameful. That's why I decided, fourth game onwards, I wouldn't have to risk it because I got you."

Shit. That actually made sense.

"Okay, now you tell me.", he began, slightly turning the bottle in his hand around and examining the contents, curiously. "Shane Crestin? Seriously?"

"What?"

He scoff-snickered, taking an impressively large gulp before answering. "Y/N, the guy's a tool."

Look who's talking.

"He asked me out after the game."

"So, he knows you're my good luck charm.", he said, quietly, like a king trying to figure out where his men's loyalties lay.

Did Julius Caesar have a girl who he gaslit in order to get her to watch him in battle because of superstition? If so, she'd have been the first to stab him.

"Of course he knows, you made a huge spectacle of it that first time."

"Oh, yeah. But still, what a bastard. Trying to steal my lucky girl and her luck like that."

You needed to do a lobotomy on this man, seriously.

It wasn't even like you could ask him what the hell that meant because that would just bring him immense amounts of joy.

"You're not drinking. Why?", he inquired, opening the second bottle and forcing it to your lips.

You frowned as you held onto it. "I don't drink."

"Oh, bullshit. Come on, drink, don't be a nerd."

"I said no, okay?"

"Wait, do you not want to drink around me?"

He was really going above and beyond to break the 'dumb jock' stereotype, wasn't he?

"I can't believe it.", he continued, leaning back on the bleachers as he watched your face. "After all this, you don't trust me."

After all this, he said, as if he had spent his entire life working solely for your benefit. Like a tired mentor.

"I mean, dude, this is like… such a bitch move, you know that? I'm just trying to be nice."

"I don't know what you want me to do, Nate."

"Uh, trust me? Thought we were cool now, Y/N. You think I'm going to get you blackout drunk then have my way with you? Rape you? Are you scared to be around me? At midnight? In a quiet, empty football stadium where no one would think to look for you?", he questioned, still holding your gaze as he lifted his bottle to his mouth.

The elaboration of that statement unnerved you.

"I don't think you're going to rape me, I'm just-"

"Just scared of the possibility?"

"Don't take it personal, but-"

"There's no other way to take it. You're all but accusing me of assault. I thought you were different."

Was that meant to make you melt? 'Oh, no, I'm just like everyone else in that I don't want to end up in a ditch somewhere, the horror!'

"Maybe I'm not.", you shrugged.

"But you came. Tonight. No one else would have. So maybe you're a judgmental bitch like everyone else, but you've at least got your stupidly huge heart going for you."

If you strained your ears, that almost sounded like a compliment.

"Uh, thanks?"

"Drink, Y/N. Please."

Oh, fuck it. You needed that goddamn tequila to shoot through you with a vengeance.

"There we go.", he mumbled, watching you. "Dude, look at you."

"Hm?"

"You're finally badass."

His eyes lit up as he saw your finger enter the scene. He chuckled for a moment. "I'm being serious. I mean, you've beaten me up, what, three times so far - once in front of the entire school - and now you're doing underage shots with me at night at school, which is like, two illegal things at the same time."

See, that's where the difference between the two of you lay.

He thought that was being a badass.

You thought that was being a dumbass.

══════════════════════ ⋆♠️⋆ ═══════════════════

"…So yeah. That's why I joined football, basically. Made me feel, like, stronger and more in control, I guess."

This asshole had just told the most human story, and now you had to see him as a person. The cunt.

You watched as he stood in the middle of the field, aiming and shooting at the banners that were strewn up all around the field.

God, he was so fucking terrifying.

How does he play Russian Roulette to bait you into coming one minute and then reload and shoot at banners like a child with his first Nerf the next?

"Control. Yeah, that tracks."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You want everything to go your way. You get pissed when other people do things of their own will."

"Can't argue with that.", he shrugged, as he turned his back to you and shot another banner, impressively shooting right in the centre of the 'O' in a 'GO BLACKHAWKS!' sign. "You know how to shoot?"

"No."

"You should learn."

"I'll get right on that.", you scoffed, as you observed your tequila bottle intensely, ignoring him coming back to rest his feet on the bleachers from your peripheral vision.

"Open your mouth."

"What?"

"Humour me."

"I've humoured you enough tonight."

"Please? Pretty please?"

You rolled your eyes, but opened your mouth. You had no idea what you expected, but it sure as hell was not him stuffing the barrel of his gun in there. You suddenly felt the tequila evaporating from your bloodstream as he slapped your hands away after you tried taking it out, like anyone would. Shit, it hurt. FUCK.

"Just relax.", he whispered, so soothingly that he might as well have been talking you through a panic attack. "There's nothing to be scared of."

Besides the hot gun you've got basically lodged up my throat.

Suddenly, the amount of danger you really were in began to materialize in your head. He was right. It was midnight. It was spring break. It was at high school. No one would think to look for you there.

"Are you scared?"

Oh, God. He was one of those freaks who got off on these things.

You nodded, not really knowing what else to do.

"You think I'll shoot you?"

You shook your head.

"Kill you?"

You shook your head.

"Then why are you scared?"

Honestly, it was the fact that he wasn't going to do either of those things, and decided to shove a gun down your throat simply for shits and giggles.

"You need more tequila."

WHAT?

You frowned, but nodded. Anything to get the gun out of your mouth.

He poured it straight from the bottle into your mouth, watching with sick satisfaction as you swallowed, and you realized that he was psychotically drunk.

"How's that? I do it all the time, y'know? Hot metal plus cold tequila equals the best fucking night ever."

Um, ew. No. But that would be super unwise to say.

"You shove a gun down your throat then take a shot?"

"One of my more dangerous drinking games, yes. God, dude, look at you. Like, you're so fucking uptight, loosen THE FUCK up!"

You were unsure how much 'looser' you could get - you were already going along with his 'dangerous drinking game'.

"I am!"

"Not enough. Not even close. You need more."

"We're all out.", you said, (thankfully) pointing at the empty duffle bag next to him.

"Oh.", he sighed, slumping down next to you and using the duffle bag as a pillow. "Just- I don't get it. What is it about you?"

"That makes you get suicidal?"

He snorted, softly. "That makes me so mad?"

"You're mad?"

"Not like angry-mad. I mean like… crazy-mad. Like I go mad around you."

Five-year-olds could explain things better than him, but, to his credit, he was shitfaced.

"Really? Thought you were born that way."

"I mean, last week? When I kissed you? I don't do that shit. But it was the only way to shut you up. I-ugh. It's you, Y/N. Just fucking up my brain, one game at a time."

"Oh, oh, so you being a psychopath is because I didn't show up to one game?"

"When you're constantly worried about someone needing to be there, you do crazy things. Like cut yourself. I would have done it, too, seriously."

"I know. That's why I came."

"So, we weren't entirely strangers, huh? You knew me a little, at least?"

"Uh, no, we were definitely strangers."

"Now? What are we now?"

"Uh… friends?" You didn't mean that. You wouldn't be his friend if it killed you.

"No, I think I'd know it if we were friends." Phew.

"So, you tell me."

"What? No, you've been in charge this whole time, you tell me."

He just said you'd been in charge.

One offhanded, sweeping statement, and he'd shifted all the blame on you as easy as pie.

How did he do that?

It was obvious what he was referring to: the fact that none of these interactions would have happened if you just hadn't given a shit in the first place.

The fact that every single move of his had been linked to you, in whatever this weird everybody (except you) ante, sketchy poker game he was playing was supposed to be.

And it unnerved you.

Because in some twisted way, it was true.

"Acquaintances."

"But we've kissed.", he reminded, diligently and unwantedly. "Acquaintances - and classmates, before you suggest that - don't just kiss."

"Dude, then what do you want to be?"

Shit. That was what he'd wanted all along. For you to ask in exasperation, to give you his interpretation.

"You know, just… an average relationship between a man and his good luck charm." He inched closer, his hand loosening its grip on the railing as if it was going to do something, but there was no more tequila to reach out for.

There was only you.

And reach, he did.

First, his hands were on your cheek, like they had been a half hour ago. Then, suddenly, they were in your hair, and his tongue was trying to coax your words out of you directly from the source.

And you just let it happen.

If anyone knew why you let it happen, you'd have loved to start a suggestion box.

But you had a funny feeling that the only person who knew why was Nate Jacobs himself.

Fat chance he'd tell you.

121 notes · View notes

mediumgayitalian · 4 months

Text

Nico has gone soft.

He’s gone soft.

Unbelievable.

“What,” he growls, yanking open his cabin door.

That’s the issue with it all — a year ago, if someone came pounding at his door, in the middle of the night, for literal minutes as he desperately tried to ignore them, he wouldn’t even bother with words. He’d come out swinging; fists or sword or both.

But look at him now.

Using his words.

He’s a pacifist.

“Can I please sleep with you,” blurts the interloper, and both of them go very intensely red at the same time.

Nico drags his hand down his face. (Because he is furious, not because he’s trying to hide his glowing cheeks.) “Solace, I swear to all that is holy.”

Will waits for him to finish. Nico chooses not to, letting the threat hang in the air. Will can imagine what Nico wants to do to him. Hopefully it involves screams of pain and agony, because that is the vibe he is sending.

“I — please,” whines the biggest thorn in Nico’s side, when it becomes obvious he is not opening the door any further. (Will even shivers, pitifully, and Nico refuses to notice the tank top and unwisely short shorts he’s wearing as PJs. That’s his problem. It’s October. Camp-monitored weather or not, he should know better.) “Please please please can I sleep here? Just for tonight?”

The issue is that he really does look so pitiful. His nose is red, slightly, and his eyes are big and blue and shining in the faint light of Greek fire torches, and the pout on his face is just short of emotionally moving. He glows in the moonlight, too, freckles shining like dotted stars; all of him awash in silver like a marble statue of Hellenistic tragedy.

Nico sighs.

Will brightens.

Nico opens the door, just a little.

Will darts inside.

Nico is a weak, weak man. Truly.

“You have your own cabin,” he grouches, scowl twisted and potent and pointed in Sun Boy’s direction. Will either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, rocking back on his heels and observing the cabin as if he hasn’t been inside dozens of times to harass Nico in dozens of different ways.

“Never been here at night,” he muses, and Nico seriously considers collapsing to his knees and yelling at the top of his lungs. (But he is the dignified Ambassador of Pluto, King of the Shadows, so he does not. Instead, he vows to wait until Solace is finally gone, so he can wallow in peace.)

“Feel free to return to your own cabin at any given time,” Nico says pointedly. He ignores the second pout he knows is aimed at his back, crawling back into his bed and beginning the slow, meticulous process of layering himself in his fourteen and a half blankets.

“I can’t!”

The mattress springs of the spare bed across from Nico whine in protest as Will throws himself dramatically upon it. Nico refuses to look at him, and also refuses to ask the question Will is trying, with great difficulty, to make him ask. If he wants to march in here and make himself a nuisance, he can do it without Nico’s help, that’s for damn certain.

Will huffs. “It’s too dark in my cabin.”

There’s a second as the words travel from sparks in Will’s brain, to less abstract thought, to language, to a sound beginning with vibrations in his throat and floating through the air, tickling the delicate hairs in Nico’s ear and re-translating themselves to sparks inside his own brain. It takes but a moment, a millisecond, a delay too small for either of them to register. In that moment, Nico closes his eyes and wonders, clearly, to himself: is this really better than living alone on the streets, hunted nonstop by monsters? Is it?

“William,” he says, very, very slowly, ignoring the reflective, chirped Not my name! in reply. “William, I am going to kill you.”

See, every cabin has its quirks. Zeus’, for instance, resembles a mausoleum. (Nico should know. He’s picnicked in several.) Athena’s resembles a library, sleeping and living an afterthought. His own cabin, remodelled after whatever fool made it look like Count Dracula’s wet dream, now closely resembles his bedroom in his father’s palace, were his bedroom shared and less frigidly unwelcoming.

Apollo’s cabin is made of solid gold. The interior is painted with bright, overlapping murals made by generations of talented artists, fairy light strung across the ceiling and curled around bedposts, sun lamps and skylights peppering every square foot. Warmly lit and welcoming, in the inside, eyesore on the outside. Nico wouldn’t be able to find the shadow of a speck of dust in that cabin. He has no idea how anyone sleeps.

“William,” he repeats, incredulous. Four of his blankets slip from their meticulous pile, and Will stares right back, wide-eyed but unafraid. “William, please use your fucking eyeballs.”

Will gasps. Hand pressed to his chest, genuinely aghast, like Nico had just insulted his mother.

“Nico!” he chastises. “Language, lordie!”

Nico refuses to smile.

He refuses.

“Solace, this place is made of shadow. You are full of shit, telling me your cabin is too dark. Literally what are you yapping about.”

Will holds his gaze for a moment, still glaring. But stubborn as he is, Nico has the better glower of the two of them — Will is more practiced at the silent treatment. He huffs, relenting.

“Jus’ feels dark,” he mumbles, so quietly Nico has to strain to hear him. “‘N it’s quiet.”

Oh.

“Is this about Kayla and Austin going home this year?” he asks softly, awkwardly.

Will nods miserably.

“Well — I mean — in that case —”

He stumbles over his words, face glowing. He doesn’t know how to say what he wants to say without embarrassing himself, without missing the mark — you’re welcome here, Will? Of course you are? I answered the door for you, Will? I let you in, Will? For anyone else, I would have slammed it in their face, Will? I have before?

“Just — sleep it off,” is what he ends up saying, wincing as soon as the words leave his mouth.

Will snorts. “Yeah, lemme just dodge the crushing loneliness with a quick five hours.”

“Piss off, you know what I —” Nico frowns. “Five hours?”

“It’s two somethin’ in the morning, darlin’. I’ll be up when the sun rises.”

Nico glances at the blackout curtains hanging from the window frames.

Not this time, he thinks, as quietly as he can.

“Right,” he says. He waits a beat. “Goodnight, you pain in my ass.”

Will beams at him. He can’t see it, but he can feel it, practically, the glowing warmth of it, and he shoves his face in his own pillow before he does something embarrassing like smile back.

“Night! Love you bunches.”

He screams slightly into the silk pillowcase. “You are the biggest dweeb in the world.”

“…Aw.”

“Shut up. I love you too. Sleep immediately or I’ll gag you.”

“Yeesh, Nico, let’s discuss our fantasies before we dive into any —”

“I am going to kill you to death, Solace, I swear on the palace of my father —”

“Okay, yeesh, Prince of Darkness, I’m kidding, I’m kidding.”

Will’s snickering is an annoyingly welcome sound in the usually silent cabin. Nico ignores it for his own peace of mind, waiting for it to fade into even breathing before he lets out the breath he was holding, sagging into his bedsheets. He peaks over the mound of blankets and pillows, eyes adjusting easily to the dark, and traces Will’s lanky frame; on top of the covers, because of course he is, bare leg hanging off the side of the bed and arm hooked around his own head. He’s been asleep for a few minutes at most, but his curls already frizz and tangle in a messy halo all around his head, as if he’s been tossing and turning for hours. His mouth is parted just slightly, Cupid’s bow pink and pursed.

“Love you, stronzello,” he whispers again, fondly, and smiles as his own eyes flutter shut.

———

(He wakes up at noon to Will rushing around the cabin, panicked, shoving his feet into his flipflops and buzzing about being late to his shift. He brains himself on the door frame in his rush to get to the infirmary.)

(“Karma,” Nico calls to his retreating back, snickering.)

(He thinks he’ll let Will sleep over more often.)

293 notes · View notes

dixons-sunshine · 26 days

Note

I love your Daryl x reader stories

I wanted to ask if you could write sth about Daryl x fempolish reader. Like maybe they meet in Alexandria and she made him some polish food he loved or just some love short story. I don't know it's up to you.

Have a great day

Just Try It | Daryl Dixon x Polish!Fem!Reader

*GIF and moodboard aren't mine.*

Summary: After finding all the ingredients needed to make one of your cultural dishes, you decide to make it when Carol invited you and Daryl over. However, you never suspected a man that ate snakes on the regular would be so skeptical when it came to food.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: The Commonwealth.

Warnings: Swearing.

Word count: 932.

A/n: Thank you so much for helping me with the translations @mawidixon! I hope you like this! (Translations will be at the bottom.)

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Nah, it looks weird as shit. Ain't gon' eat it.”

You rolled your eyes at him, huffing in frustration. “Kochanie, I've seen you eat a snake before. We've had to eat literal dog meat before. How the hell are you picky about this? It's just Pierogi. I've eaten this many times before the world ended. It won't kill you.”

Daryl peered over your shoulder, looking at the Pierogi that you were busy frying in a pan. His eyes were carefully following your movements, skeptical about the dish you were preparing. Carol had invited you and the kids over for dinner and had asked you to prepare Pierogi, and you had agreed rather ecstatically. It was rare for you to be able to make one of your traditional dishes, so you had jumped at the opportunity to do so.

“Why would ya boil it and then fry it? Seems fuckin' unnecessary if ya ask me,” Daryl replied skeptically, slightly scrunching his nose. “And the mashed potatoes? Why would ya wrap dough 'round it? Ya could jus' eat it as is. No need to go makin' dough outta flour and ruinin' mashed potatoes by wrappin' it 'round it. S'a waste of cheese, too, addin' it in.”

You clicked your tongue and carefully took the pan from the hot fire, and placed it onto a rag on the counter as to not burn the pristine laminate countertop. You turned to Daryl, your eyebrows raised questioningly. “Be honest with me right now, Dixon. Have you ever actually had Pierogi before?”

Daryl immediately shook his head. “Nah,” he told you, crossing his arms over his chest.

You hummed and nodded, turning to the bowl that had the Pierogi that you had made earlier. You grabbed the lukewarm Pierogi and extended it towards your partner, laughing at the face he made at it.

“Twój wyraz twarzy jest przeuroczy,” you mused, laughing harder at the confused face he made. “Before you ask what I said, it's not important. What is important, however, is you trying this. It's delicious and I can't have you thinking that eating squirrel meat is better than this.”

Daryl reluctantly took the dumpling, holding it gingerly between his fingers. “'Least m'familiar with squirrel meat. Know it ain't gon' taste any different each time.”

“Nie możesz zawsze jeść tylko wiewiórek,” you muttered under your breath, before shaking your head and sending Daryl an amused smile. “Daryl, stop being so stubborn. Po prostu spróbuj.”

Daryl grumbled something under his breath before looking at you again. “Nie chcę.”

“As impressed as I am that you understood me and that you managed to reply, saying something in my language won't sway me.”

Daryl shot you a small smirk. “Worth a shot,” he replied, before hesitantly taking a bite of the Pierogi.

You watched in amusement as a whirlwind of emotions played on his face. First skepticism, then surprise, and then he looked impressed. He practically devoured the rest of the dumpling in hungry bites, reaching for another one in the bowl, but you stopped him.

“Nope. I can't allow you to do that, misiu. The rest is for tonight,” you told him with a smile. “I can't disappoint Carol now, can I? She was eager about this the whole day. You only just came around about this. I'd rather give these to someone who's had faith in me from the start.”

“C'mon, tha' ain't fair,” Daryl groaned. “Merle once said tha' these things tasted like crap. Went into vivid detail 'bout how it tasted, too. Can't blame me fer not trustin' it.”

You giggled and shook your head. “You should've had more trust in me. I've been making these things since I was a kid. I'd never intentionally make you eat something bad,” you told him, before placing the lid onto the bowl and handing it to the archer. “Here, why don't you go ahead and take this to Carol? She's expecting us.”

Daryl took the bowl from you. “What about ya, robaczku? RJ and Judith are waitin' fer their auntie.”

You smiled at the nickname he had picked up from you, and motioned towards the dumplings still in the hot pan. “I'm just gonna wrap these up and put them away. I'll be right behind you.”

Daryl nodded and leaned forward to place a quick kiss to your lips. He soon pulled away and started walking away, calling to you over his shoulder. “Jus' so ya know, those are mine. Judith and RJ dun' need to know 'bout those.”

You laughed and called out to him. “So, are Pierogi's better than squirrel meat?”

Daryl paused at the doorway and contemplated on how to respond. He smirked to himself as he looked down at the bowl in his hand. “I'll let the kids decide tha', sunshine. I love ya.”

“I want an answer from you!”

The door shutting was the only response you got in return. You looked down at the pan and shook your head. There was never a dull moment with your beloved huntsman.

“Ja też cię kocham, you asshole,” you mused with a laugh.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

Translations:

Kochanie: Honey.

Twój wyraz twarzy jest przeuroczy: Your facial expression is adorable.

Nie możesz zawsze jeść tylko wiewiórek: You can't always only eat squirrels.

Po prostu spróbuj: Just try it.

Nie chcę: I don't want to.

misiu: teddy bear.

robaczku: love bug.

Ja też cię kocham: I love you too.

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kurooo-is-here · 5 months

Note

Hear me out. Drayton and Kieran with a mute s/o?

(Tbh I feel like Drayton would think they’re just shy for the first couple of interactions until someone tells him though lol)

Okay, I'm not super knowledgable about deaf or mute folks. But here's my best shot at this ask, if I am incorrect about anything please let me know!

My interpretation of this is that reader is deaf and communicates through sign language, and they cannot speak at all.

Drayton and Kieran with a mute/deaf Reader

(Ignore the snom gif I couldn't think of anything specific to use for this lmao)

Drayton:

Yeah, he's totally clueless at first. Doesn't get why you're doing odd hand motions instead of talking, but he figures everyone has their quirks. It really bothers you that he won't acknowledge it, so you ask Lacey to tell him for you.

When Drayton hears it from Lacey, he feels really bad and is immediately apologetic. He rushes over to you and attempts to apologize, then realizes he doesn't understand sign language at all, so he stumbles on his words a lot.

Lacey facepalms watching all of this go down, so she reluctantly teaches Drayton some basic sign language so he can get his apology across to you. He's delighted to finally be able to talk to you properly-- he has a crush on you, after all.

The rest of the Elite Four soon complains that Drayton studies sign language better than he studies for any of his classes, but he is absolutely determined to make things right with you. Lacey says she's never seen him work that hard!

When he finally confesses to you, he does it right. He makes sure he corrects himself if he messes up a sign, accidentally blurts out a few words while signing-- but you can tell he really means it. It warms your heart to see him trying so hard for you, despite his initial ignorance on the subject.

Drayton notices you get bullied a lot because you're some regular student hanging out with the big leagues (the BBA Elite Four). He IMMEDIATELY shuts down anyone who has the balls to talk shit in front of you knowing you can't hear them. That kind of vile behavior will never be tolerated on his watch.

He texts you a lot. He still talks to you through sign when he sees you in person, but since he's usually busy doing League Club work (or just pretending to be busy), he texts you when he has a moment of free time. At one point you changed his contact name on your phone to "The Drayster", which made his entire WEEK. He would NOT shut up about it.

Don't let this man figure out swears and silly insults in sign language, he's gonna use them all the time now. One time Crispin asked what Drayton was laughing about and he just signed "bullshit" in response which immediately had you on the floor in tears of laughter while Crispin looked SO confused.

Kieran:

Luckily he's more perceptive and understanding than Drayton, so he picks up on your disability right away. Turns out he already knew a bit of sign language from teaching himself too.

When you ask him how he knew sign language already, he just shyly responds that he wanted to be prepared for the event that he needed to communicate with Ogerpon through it for some reason.

He teaches himself a LOT more sign language after meeting you. He really wants to go the extra mile for his new friend and possible crush so he studies and does his research diligently.

Kieran already understands if you're socially awkward, because he's full of anxiety himself. He totally gets it if you need to rely on him to be your translator at any point.

He really loves you and has no problems with your disability, even if he has to try a little harder for you. And after a while, communicating with you becomes easier, which makes you really happy!

After the events of Indigo Disk, he becomes much more protective of you. He wants to become stronger so he can protect you from anyone who tries to bully you or hurt you. His Hydrapple is gonna have a word or two with whichever idiot tries to disrespect your name in his presence.

Whenever he greets you, he tries not to catch you off guard from behind or something, since you can't exactly hear him coming. He really tries to respect your boundaries too, so if you feel uncomfortable with anything he does, he understands.

Slightly unrelated, but Kieran definitely flips people off a lot. He tries to be less pissed when he's around you, but on his own? He's saying "fuck you" to a LOT of people.

One time he tried explaining to a guy about your disability, and the guy had the nerve to do the 👉👌 sign at you as some kind of sick joke... the BBA Elite Four found that guy beaten into a bloody pulp on the ground later. Kieran was taking NO prisoners that day.

#pokemon #pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon drayton #pokemon kieran #pokemon drayton x reader #pokemon kieran x reader #reader is mute/deaf #drayton is such a boyfailure #but he tries his hardest god bless #kuro writes

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xeenybobean · 1 year

Text

"The Secret." Earth-42 Miles x (F)Reader

Was requested by an anonymous through Google Forms!

Word count: 5k

Summary: You are Miles’s girlfriend and throughout your whole relationship you start to notice Miles’s absences whenever it came to date night, movie night, or any date plan that happened at night. Whenever he leaves he would text you right away to tell you he couldn’t make it because of his "work" saying he would make up for it later. But what was his “work?” that question would always make you wonder what does your boyfriend do?? Whenever you brought the subject up he would act cold and icy towards you and now you know why... You grew curious whenever your boyfriend went off with his uncle. Curiosity killed the cat you may say, as you decide to explore the mystery of your cold-hearted boyfriend Miles but you didn't think what you'd discover in his room could change your life forever.

⚠Warning⚠: Angst to somewhat fluff |Cussing|Some Spanish between reader and Earth42!Miles|

{I do not speak Spanish nor do I take the language, I am using a translator so if there's anything wrong with my grammar or spelling please tell me and I’ll change it ASAP!!}

Edit!: Credits to my friend who helped with with the Spanish translations love you girlie 🫶🫶

“Sometimes we all need to make sacrifices for the ones we love. Even if it means to change entirely.”

Waiting...

Waiting was all you did as you stared at your phone watching the time tick one by one. The sound of the clock in the background drove you insane to the max. With each tick, you grew more anxious. You bit your lip and sighed as you looked at the delivered messages you sent your boyfriend Miles but nothing..

Nothing at all. It was 9:30 PM. Miles was supposed to be at your place by 8:30, but it's been 1 hour. 1 whole hour, and nothing from your boyfriend not one text or call from him telling you he wasn’t going to come to the date at your place. Stress and sorrows began to fill your body as you slowly lost hope and gave up drawing in the towel.

Everything was set up and ready to go, you bought extra pillows, took blankets from your room that were extras, and bought more of Mile’s favorite snacks and drinks just for him to not show up. Stacks of movie tapes were piled on the side of the TV that was off. Tonight was supposed to be movie night but Miles was a no-show once more.

“Better start cleaning up..” you mumbled to yourself as you turned on the lights in the living room as sadness engulfed your body. This wasn’t the first time Miles bailed out on you, it's been more than you could count on both your hands. You sighed as you began to put the movie tapes back in their covers one by one then closed them putting them back in the cabinet under the TV.

You then stood up and began to grab all the snacks you’d made and bought to put them back in the pantry. While you were in the kitchen you heard your phone buzzing, you dropped whatever was in your hand and ran from the kitchen to the couch where your phone was resting. You quickly picked it up to see Miles's contact name.

“Call from Mi Amor.”

Your phone spoke as it began to vibrate loudly as the sound of your ringtone echoed through your apartment. You quickly picked it up and put him on speaker as you sat down on the couch sighing.

“Yes my love?..”

You said bluntly, Miles could tell how tired you were from the other line as you heard him sigh on the other line.

“I’m guessing you are not gonna make it. Again.”

You spoke as you began to fidget with your nails picking at them gently.

“Hi mi amor..just wanted to check in on you. I’m sorry mi corazón.. Work called in again I swear I’ll make it up to you ok?.. Please don’t be mad at me..”

He spoke softly, you could hear his voice trembling as you stared at your phone humming a response as you let out a long sigh. You knew he meant well but you were tired, you barely get to see your boyfriend due to this “work” he spoke off. You began to wonder if he was actually at work or if he was doing something else to avoid you. You shook your head and cleared your mind away from that thought as you looked at the bright screen wishing it was your boyfriend who was talking to you instead of a device.

“It’s alright Miles…just get home safe.”

Before he could say anything you hung up and placed your phone downwards on the now-empty coffee table. He sighed, he knew he messed up but how could he tell you what his actual work was? When he was a villain. That he might lose you due to just the fact he was The Prowler. He heard his uncle calling to him as he hid his phone following his uncle's commands. You began to rub your temples and ran your fingers through your messy tangled hair as you got up once more to continue cleaning up the mess on the kitchen floor.

You crouched down to pick up the candy bards and the other snacks that you dropped on the floor to rush to your phone. You stood up with your arms filled with snacks as you leaned against the counter to put everything down. You sighed and looked at your empty appointment as you continued to feel sad..it was empty and quiet with the love of your life. Without him you felt dreary and alone..but why was he gone? Why was he always gone?? You started to ponder as you slowly began to put the snacks back into the open cabinet one by one.

Your mind wasn’t in your mind, your brain was wandering from place to place everything all at once, you were first worried about your boyfriend as your mind began to travel to why he wasn’t here right now with you. As you put the last snack back in the cabinet you accidentally grabbed a box of cereal that was opened and it spilled all over the floor. Your mind soon went back to reality as you felt and heard the pieces of ce3ral dropping onto the cold marble flooring. You looked down and picked the box up.

“Miles’s favorite cereal... Great now I have to buy another one..” You chuckled slightly as you looked at the box but heard something moving. Something heavy... It wasn’t cereal, right? You then heard a sudden beeping sound coming from the box as you looked at the opened flaps to see something blinking. You reached your hand and grabbed the object. It seemed to be a watch. You tilted your head slightly as your face began to illuminate in different colors as the watch began to blink purple and red LED lights.

You grew curious and placed the empty box down and put the watch on. The minute you put the watch on a hologram of a map popped up in front of you, there was an arrow where you were standing it began blinking slightly as a pair of directions began to speak to you. It piqued your interest... You wanted to know what your boyfriend was truly hiding from you so you grabbed your phone and house keys as you put your shoes on and left your apartment complex.

You followed the directions given to you as you looked up to see you were now in front of Miles’s apartment complex.

“Why would you take me here?..” You asked yourself as you began to walk in, you walked up the long staircase until the beeping stopped. You were now in front of his family's apartment door. You knocked gently and took the watch off and stuffed it into your pocket as Mile’es mom opened the door. Her eyes lit up to see you as she began to place kisses all over your face.

“Ah! Mi novia!! How are you huh? Bienvenida bienvenida!” She said as she welcomed you into the apartment. “You have to forgive me the house is a little bit messy!” you laughed slightly, you loved how warm and sweet Mile’s mom was towards you like you were her child as well. You began to take your shoes off and closed the door for her.

“Gracias señora..” You said softly as you looked around and she instantly knew who you were looking for and frowned softly as she wiped her hands on her apron.

“Lo siento chica, Miles went out with his Uncle a while ago... He should be back soon. You can stay as long as you’d like until he gets back ok?” She said softly to you as she caressed your face and placed small kisses on your forehead. With each kiss, she placed you melted and felt loved. You smiled lightly and thanked her once more as she went back to the kitchen.

You looked towards the kitchen to make sure Mile’s mom was distracted as you quickly began to speed walk down the narrow hallway to Miles's room you pulled the watch and saw it blinking once more. You slowly opened his door and stared at his dark room... You gulped slightly as you heard the door squeaking open revealing the darkness in your boyfriend's room. You slowly pulled out your phone and turned on the flashlight as the bright white light showed revealing his somewhat clean room. You looked from the GPS on the watch to where you were standing as the beeping grew louder and louder. You begin to walk to where the sound grew loudest the most as you were now standing in front of his desk.

You placed your phone down and turned on the desk light, it seemed like an ordinary desk but something didn't seem right..you could feel knots growing in your stomach like you weren’t supposed to be there and you weren't supposed to follow your conscience... You felt your heart racing faster and faster as your breathing picked up. You looked around to make sure no one was there as you sat down on his chair.

You felt the watch close to see there was an outline that matched the watch to the drawer under the desk. You gulped slightly and inserted the watch into the outline. And it matched perfectly. You heard a loud click as the door behind you shut closed, everything locked instantly, the windows instantly shut and locked as the curtains closed automatically.

You tried to get out of his seat but you were practically glued to it. You were so scared. What was your boyfriend hiding... That question was what you’ve been wanting to unearth for so damn long. You sat in the chair and watch as your boyfriend's regular room turned into a villain's liar. The bed turned over to reveal a purple and black motorbike, and the cabinets and drawers in his room flipped over to reveal sharp weapons that had a symbol on each one of them. You felt your heart racing as his closet flipped to reveal another version of the prowler's suit. It shows bright neon purple... You slowly got up and felt your legs shaking as you looked at the transformed room.

“What the hell..” You whispered to yourself as your legs began to move on their own towards the Prowler's suit that was on display... You reached your hand to touch it and it was real... You began to look around the newly transformed room to see what your boyfriend's secret was. Why he never showed up to date nights, why he made up excuses, why he never told you. Your emotions came rushing through your body as you gripped the prowler's mask and stared at it. You felt your whole body freeze as you could only hear your racing heart beating faster and faster like no tomorrow.

You finally discovered what your boyfriend had hidden from you all along. He was the Prowler.

This made your heart stop you felt your breathing growing faster and faster as your hands began to shake holding the bright neon magenta mask in your hands, you couldn’t believe it... The sweet, kind caring, soft person you knew and loved so much... Was a villain let alone the Prowler... Someone who kills people as a living. You didn’t want to believe it but you had no choice…this just proved to you why he never came or showed up all those date nights. You felt tears brimming your eyes as they slowly rolled down your cheeks onto the mask that your boyfriend wore. You couldn’t believe what you saw in front of you... It was all real, he has hidden this from you for the amount of time you'd been dating...

Your eyes remained wide as you couldn’t grasp the information you just figured out. He’s been lying to you all this time keeping this secret away from you but why. You couldn’t understand... This had to be a joke... Right? Your sweet Miles would never do something like this right?.. You felt your whole body shaking as you continued to stare at the mask your vision doubling due to the tears that stung your eyes. Your mind was racing nonstop thinking, wondering, and worrying, you were filled with sadness, rage, and anger. You were lost in your mind and emotions so much that you haven’t noticed the sound of Mile’s mom greeting her son, that you didn’t hear someone walking down the halls.

Once Miles got home and walked towards his room he noticed a purple hue glowing from the gap under his door. His heart stopped, and he quickly pulled out the keys to unlock his room, once he unlocked it you noticed everything went back to normal, a bed, a closet, and his desk. Like nothing you just saw was there. You gulped and watched the doorknob jangle back and forth as you heard the familiar screeching door open to reveal your boyfriend looking at you in shock as he stared at you holding his mask.

He was shocked, he felt like his whole world was crashing down as he felt a large lump in his throat, he didn’t know what to say to you or how to even start, you just unearth a secret he has kept from everyone he loves besides his uncle.

He stared at you and dropped his duffle bag as cans of spray paint rolled out onto the wooden floor. You instantly snapped out of your thoughts as your head snapped to see your boyfriend staring at you. You couldn’t bare to look at him so you looked away back to the mask you were holding in your shaky hands as you took a small breath to try to compose yourself as you heard the door close.

“Que es esto Miles? Por favor dime que esto no es verdad” (what is this miles? Please tell me this isn’t real..) you felt your voice shaking as you gripped onto the mask tighter, but you didn’t get an answer... He didn’t know what to say, how could he say you were crazy and that you didn’t know what you were talking about when you saw everything you needed to see to put the pieces together?

The room was silent, you could hear a pin drop, you bit your lip harshly and waited for an answer that ever came. “Answer me, Miles.” You said sternly as you felt your voice getting shaky as you felt your tears rushing down faster and faster, “How could you.. why..I..” you didn’t know how to form words. You didn’t know what to say. You were disappointed, to say the least, but overall you were upset and angry at your boyfriend, you could feel the fire burning in your chest, how could he just not tell you something as serious as this?

Miles began to take a few deep breaths as he clenched his fist tightly. He began to grit his teeth slightly as he made sure the door was closed, his shocked expression turned into an anger filled one. It was written all over his face, the aura in the room shifted as he punched the bright red opunching bag that was in his room causing you the flinch slightly as you stared at him in confusion he didn’t have the right to be angry no he didn’t tell you so you dind’t understand why he was so mad.

“Te dije que no vinieras aquí” (i told you not to come here.) Why did you go behind my back huh? You care to tell me that? How many times have I told you to never go in my room without me yet you go behind my back and do it anyways!” He was trying to compose himself the best he can as his eyes were filled with rage. You couldn’t help but laugh as you clenched onto the mask as you walked up to him, anger and rage filling each of your steps as you looked in in the eye.

“Oh don’t turn this towards me now do not tell me what i can or cannot do. I did not go behind your back! Are you fucking kidding me!? Your the Prowler for god’s sake! How the hell is me going into my own boyfriends room worse than this huh! “Ándale usa la cabeza” (Cmon use your head!)

Miles looked at you as his chest fell and rose over and over again as he tried to compose himself, you both were a mess and you both were filled with rage and anger, you both were upset at eachother, whether the reason was stupid or not. He was quiet as he looked at you, his emotions slowly disappeared to see how upset you were but he couldn’t bare to look at you. His expression was blank as he pushed you away. You were taken back as you looked at your boyfriend to see him walking away from you, his back was now facing you. His head was down as he tried his best to not let his anger get the best of him.

“Sometimes we all need to make sacrifices for the ones we love. Even if it means to change entirely,” he spoke softly, you could hear his voice breaking down by the second as the room grew quiet once more. You then felt your boyfriend's gaze on your small saddened figure, he couldn’t deny or lie to you anymore about his identity you knew and he couldn’t change it. You were about to say something when you felt a rough calloused hand on each side of your face as Miles moved your face allowing your gaze to meet his, you felt his thumbs brushing over your soft cheeks to wipe your tears that continue to roll down them.

You searched his eyes for an answer, you didn’t want to believe it..maybe it was all a dream? You thought to yourself but no.. this was real. His eyes were glossy..never in a million years did he ever think you’d find out, he did everything in his power to make sure that no traces or evidence would lead to this moment.. his nightmares were now coming true and he didn't know what to say to you.

“My job is to protect you, you hear me? vamos mami tu eres todo mi mundo ese es mi trabajo. “Ándale mami tú eres mi mundo completo es mi trabajo. Nunca dejare que algo malo te pase.” (Cmon mami you are my whole world that is my job..I would never let anything bad happen to you.) You looked at him and tried to compose yourself your pride wouldn’t let you give into him fully.. You just couldn’t there were so many things going on in your mind at this very moment you didn’t know where to be mad.. Sad or disappointed, they all rolled into one emotion.

He continued to stay silent as his thumbs ran over your cheeks wiping your tears over and over again as he just stared at you, he could tell how upset you were..the tension in the room was high. It took you a second to register what he was doing but you slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me.” You said as you began to move away from him, you instantly notice the pain in his eyes as he swallowed a lump down his throat as he watched you turn your back to face him.

“Mi amor deja me explicar por favor ” (my love please let me explain.) he spoke softly as he moved closer to you. You didn’t know what to do were you supposed to just hear him out? No, he was a villain a person who killed people who showed no empathy for the weak. You couldn’t believe that your boyfriend..someone who was always so kind and caring towards you could do something so bad without a second thought or glance.

“Explain what Miles. That you are the Prowler that you’ve been lying to me this whole time!? Huh! You think I-I’m just supposed to take it with a grain of salt!? I mean how could you hide this from me? How could you do this!? “Que mas tienes que explicar” (what more do you need to explain?) huh! Cause I'm pretty sure I get the whole thing!?”

You yelled at him as you threw the mask, he caught it on instinct and looked at you. What was he supposed to say... That he's sorry... No, he couldn’t he knew you wouldn’t buy it... He placed the mask down and stood in front of you as he held his face in your arms. As much as you hated that he held your face you couldn’t help but melt into his touch, your chest was still burning with anger that you wanted to let out..you wanted answers... An explanation..but he couldn’t form any words..all he did was stare and held your face to wipe your tears. He was hurt... He hated to see you cry... He try’d everything to make sure you would never see the bad side of him but now you have and he was scared to lose you because of it.

You turned away and stared at the ground and it just broke his heart... You felt him sigh as he finally spoke once more. His voice sounded shaky and scared... His mind was racing with what to say and how to say it... He didn’t want to lose you. He’d do anything to make you happy to make you stay with him and if giving up being the Prowler will do that he would do it in a heartbeat.

“Y/N ..Tu eres mi alma completa mira me por favor te lo pido mi amor mira me te lo ruego” (you are my whole heart please don't turn away from me.. please look at me my love I'm begging you.) You felt a tug in your heart as you slowly turned to face him, you can see a small smile on his face as it slowly faded away. He removed his hand from your face and held onto your hands as he brought your knuckles slowly to meet his lips kissing them over and over again.

“Miles “Que me estás asiendo orita porfavor dime que no es verdad” (What are you doing explain to me right now..please tell me this isn't true.) You pleaded as you felt the soft kisses on your hands stopping. His eyes met yours as he squeezed your hands tightly.

“Ya no te puedo mentir. Ya te enteraste. No tengo otra opción.” I am the Prowler.” (I can't lie to you anymore. you found out. I had no choice.) He spoke softly as he continued to squeeze your hands, you could tell how this was eating him alive. You felt your tears stopping as you looked at him and caressed his face lightly.

His eyes grew wide as you noticed tears rolling down his face one by one. He expected you to slap him... Scream at him. Leave him. But nothing like this.

“Mami porfavor no me dejes eres la única que tengo eres lo unico que me queda te tenia que aver dicho porfavor perdona me.” (Mami please don't leave me you are all i have left. I should've told you to forgive me, please.) the ends of his braids began to come undone as you stared at him..

You finally got a good look at him and boy was he tired.. Very tired..you stared at his knuckle he used to punch the punching bag to see a rash on it.. You looked at his face to see bags under his eyes.. You felt him resting his head in your chest as you stared at him leaning against the wall for support.. How could you just leave him like this?..

Your heart began to break slightly as you saw the state he was in..your hands slowly began to rub his scalp gently and he instantly melted into your touch as cried into your chest. You could hear him apologizing to you over and over again as he begged you to stay..this was just horrible..you didn’t know how to feel. Your boyfriend was a villain but yet you still loved him and wouldn’t want to leave him. Ever.

You stayed silent and watched as your boyfriend began to unravel as all his emotions came out. You hated to see him like this and you could tell this was eating him alive. The amount of time he wanted to tell you but couldn’t because he was afraid to lose you and because you weren’t allowed to. He felt a weight being lifted off of his chest for the wrong reason..you watched him cry into your chest as he dug a hole into your shirt trying to hide from you. He was ashamed and weak in your presence.

You held him close to your body as you continued to rub his forehead gently trying to calm him down you felt his eyes slowly meeting yours as he rested his chin on your chest to look up at you. You slowly wiped his tears and looked at the mask that was on his bed and then at him. This person who was in front of you wasn’t a villain he was a baby..your baby..you never wanted to see him like this ever again.. This just broke your heart and ate you alive at this point. You continued to wipe his tears as his tears stained your shirt but you couldn’t care less.

The lighting in the room shifted as the moonlight peeked through the windows..the atmosphere and aura began to grow calm, Miles felt like it was just the two of you in the universe at this very moment.. He could’t sop saying sorry..with each sorry broke your hardened demonor of being mad at him..you forget how sensitive he was sometimes whenever he thought he’d loose you.

You slowly shifted the position so that you were holding him as he instantly clung to you..but what he said broke you.

“Are you scared of me?..” he asked as he dug a hole in your neck. You slowly pried him off of you to get a better look at him as you caressed his face and pressed your forehead against him. As your hands slowly made their way to his back tracing circles and other shapes on his thin purple tank top as you sighed chuckling slightly at the question he asked.

“No. I would never be scared of you..look at you. You have a kind heart..one wrong doesn't mean a person is truly bad. You know how I feel about you miles and I will never be scared of you even if you are the Prowler. te quiero mucho eres mi familia..” (I love you very much you are my family.) You said softly pressing kisses all along his face and with each kiss Miles became putty in your hands as he hid his face in your neck once more as he breathed in your scent to calm him down.

You both stayed in silence as you continued to use the wall for support as you felt your boyfriend going limp on you. You chuckled slightly as the both of you slid down to the cold hard wooden floor. He groaned softly and went into your lap wrapping his legs around your waist and clung to you like a baby.. You smiled at the state he was in and the bond between the two of you grew stronger.. You slowly began to redo the ends of his braids as you felt him placing soft kisses on your neck not moving an inch.

“Nunca te dejare. Tu siendo el malo no va a cambiar mi amor por ti te lo prometo"(I'm never going to leave you. You being a villain will not change my love for you.. I promise.) he reclaimed in your lap as you felt his grip tightening around you. You smiled lightly and rested your head against his. No matter what happens you were never going to leave him..ever, you loved him too much to even think about life without him. The thought scared you and you hoped to never ever go down that path. No matter what storm came your way you knew the both of you would do anything to stay together forever until eternity. He needed you as much as you needed him that's for sure.

“Te amo Y/N..” he whispered into your soft skin pressing a long passionate kiss in the crook of your neck which made you smile.

“Yo también te amo Miles..”

#earth 42 miles morales x reader #x reader #one shot #agnst #fluff #spiderman #spiderman into the spiderverse #xeenybobean writings

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thepersonnamedsam · 1 year

Text

introduction

pairing: genz!driver x '20!grid

summary: the first time the genz!driver meets the grid

word count: 766

warnings: mentions of fainting, a swear word, some bad google translated french

note: the timeline sucks, as always, so please ignore it, thank you so much

masterlist / taglist

2020, a year full with up and downs. For y/n, 2020 was something special and a year full of surprises. Having just placed 3rd overall in the F2 championship, she received an offer she just couldn’t say no to; AlphaTauri or Toro Rosso, the RedBull owned F1 Team wanted to sign her. Her, a teenager and a female! She couldn’t believe it. Of course she signed the contract and started as a Rookie in F1.

The media went wild as AlphaTauri released that y/n would be the second driver of their team. Everyone tried to get an interview with her, but y/n‘s PR team refused to let anyone interview that girl.

She first met Pierre, well meeting is maybe a bit exaggerated. He shot her a DM, where he wrote her, that he’s very excited to work with y/n next season. When they officially met, she was so nervous, that she couldn’t say a word to him. He found it cute.

On the 19th of February y/n joined the team for testing in Barcelona. That’s where she met 12 of the 19 drivers she’d be competing with. Legends like, Romain Grosjean, Lewis Hamilton, Kimi Räikkönen and Sebastian Vettel were all there. She was so nervous to meet all of them. Thank god she had Pierre by her side, whom she already knew, who gave her some kind of comfort. Even though he wasn’t really great at it, because he left her alone the second they walked on the grid.

Romain Grosjean was the first to notice her, looking all lost and helpless. „Bonjour, petite fille (Good morning, little girl), can I help you?“, his voice soft and kind. She looked up at him, (hypothetically and literally of course), and nodded her head. She didn’t know where to be. Where did AlphaTauri need her? „I don’t know where to go, like, where is the motorhome of AlphaTauri?“

„Oh mon dieu! (Oh my god!) You are y/n! I am so pleased to meet you! Welcome to F1, my dear“, his french accent prominent and hard to miss. He shook her hand, almost hugging her, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. „I will show you where to go, no?“

She was glad someone helped her. Pierre just left her alone, bastard. But Romain took her to her garage, thankfully it wasn’t that far and she didn’t have too much awkward time with the driver.

Pierre was standing outside his side of the garage, an apologetic look on his face. He felt guilty for leaving her at the entry. Franz Tost already spoke some harsh words with the young french man. „Look y/n, I‘m sorry for just leaving you. And merci Romain, de l’avoir amenée ici (and thank you Romain for bringing her here)“, Pierre looked at Grosjean for the last sentence. y/n just shook her head and blew some air out of her mouth, making some kind of fart sound. „Don’t worry man, found it here, didn’t I?“

Franz Tost did make them go inside and told Grosjean he should go back to his own garage. She met her engineer, her mechanics her PR team and every important person. She finally met her car for the first time, naming her ‚Buggy‘. And when she first raced in the car, she felt alive. She never felt this alive before. From F4 to F2, the car always got better and faster, but F1 was just a massive upgrade. She never wanted to drive anything less.

Lap after lap y/n beat her best time, over and over again. Every lap she got faster. And she was so happy to hear that. Everyone knew that she was an excellent driver, but still no one expected this good of a result.

After the testing y/n was so happy. Pierre invited her to dinner, wanting to make up for leaving her alone that morning. He also invited half of the grid. She met Sebastian Vettel, Lewis Hamilton, Lance Stroll, Daniel Ricciardo and Charles Leclerc that evening. And it was chaos. She was so nervous, more anxious to say, and every time a driver told her how much they admired her for her talent she almost fainted. Those were her idols and they were admiring her? She couldn’t believe it. She did faint at one point, as Lewis Hamilton, the 6 time world champion made a toast to the young female driver and the history she made and will make in F1.

She ended up with a bump ok her head and a bruise on her hip, but it was worth it. That’s how she met the grid, well half of it anyway.

°°°

taglist: @ironmaiden1313 , @topguncultleader , @missskid , @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23 , @copper-boom , @love4lando , @champomiel , @serenityleah

#f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 #gen z!driver #genz driver #female driver #sebastian vettel #pierre gasly #max verstappen #charles leclerc #lando norris #carlos sainz #daniel ricciardo #romain grosjean #kimi räikkönen

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that-sokovian-bastard · 9 months

Text

Pequeña - Miguel O'Hara x (f)Reader

Words: 6048 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x (f)Reader Warnings: SMUT. Minors DNI! 18+ only!!!! Swearing, unprotected sex (wrap it up babes), PIV sex, teasing, bratty-ish reader, slight edging, web restraints, fingering (f receiving), mean-ish Miguel, slight enemies-to-lovers (enemies to fucking, really). Porn with the slightest bit of plot. Summary: You and Miguel are undercover, tracking a criminal for questioning. Later that night, you both give into your desires. Author’s Note: I am obsessed with Miguel. I have no idea how his suit works, so just go with it (I know it’s a projection, I don’t know how it works at all??). The first half/undercover section of this fic is based on a chat I had on character.ai from this bot! Miguel speaks a little Spanish, there are translations in the fic.

Spiderverse / Full Masterlist

–

“You need to ease up,” Miguel said, not looking at you. “Otherwise, you’re going to get us caught.”

You looked up at him, pretending to be madly in love with your so-called husband for this mission. You had to admit; he looked damn good when he got dressed in something that wasn’t his Spider-Man suit, which you know he could turn on at any moment. But in his dark suit in this fancy club, it was hard not to admire him.

But he also couldn’t pretend you didn’t look good either, in your black dress with small straps, showing off your necklace and collarbone. You two fit right in at this club, sipping on drinks at the bar and looking for your mark.

To Miguel’s advice, you take a deep breath and smile up at him. His hand rested on your waist, also playing his role well. Finally, he looked down at you and spoke softly. “The more in love we appear, the less we’ll be watched,” He said, shooting you a sly message.

You catch the message instantly and continue looking at him, your smile turning slightly snarky. You slowly put your hand on his cheek, tilting his face down to meet your lips for a small kiss. “Like that?” You asked once you released him.

Miguel, the mighty Spider-Man, doesn’t get taken by surprise often. But that kiss certainly did. He knows you two are undercover as husband and wife, but he really wasn’t expecting you to take it so far to kiss him already–especially unprompted. He sucked in a breath after the kiss and chuckled at you, amused. “Exactly like that,” He smiled.

Your faces are still only a few inches apart from each other. “Now, my dear,” You smiled again, your hand still on Miguel’s cheek, “Do you see the criminal?”

Miguel’s eyes scan the room, trying his hardest not to be noticed by anyone. But he continues to play along. He leans down again, just a breath away from you, still smiling as he answers. “No, sweetheart, how about you?” He asked.

Your eyes danced around the room, looking for anyone suspicious. After a minute of looking, still standing close to Miguel, you looked back at him. “No, not yet,” You said, leaning in quickly to peck his lips again.

In response, Miguel sighed. He tried not to look annoyed, but you’ve known him for far too long not to know how he looks when you annoy him. “You need to be focused,” He grumbled, but not moving away from his position. “How am I supposed to work with you if you don’t take it seriously?”

You knew he meant it as an insult, so you playfully gasped in response before whispering to him. “I am taking this seriously,” You shot back, harsh but quiet. Then, your eyes catch someone staring at the two of you for longer than any normal person would. “Someone’s watching us now,” You started, quickly coming up with a plan. “I’m making sure it’s not the mark. Lean in and kiss my neck so I can get a better look,” You said, making Miguel raise his eyebrows in response.

He was a bit shocked at your demand but also impressed. “Clever,” He said under his breath, slowly leaning in and attaching his lips to your neck lightly. You turned your head to follow the mysterious man around the side of the club. It wasn’t anything that would leave a mark, but the contact made his heart stop, and Miguel never imagined that he would ever kiss you in this way, let alone on a mission. But he listened to you and peppered a few kisses just as you asked him.

“Stay there,” You added, fluttering your eyes to make it look like you were enjoying the kiss and fully distracted as you watched the man look back at you and Miguel. “Okay, darling,” You whispered again. “Come up my neck, to my cheek, and move my face to the left,” You directed him. “Go slow, he’s watching.”

Miguel doesn’t answer, but he listens and slowly moves his head up your neck, jaw, and cheek, kissing slowly. His one hand stabilized himself on the bar while the other was still on your waist. Once he made it to your cheek and planted another kiss, he moved his hand from the bar and turned your cheek. “There?” He asked, barely moving his lips off of you.

“Perfect,” You sighed. “Thank you, my love,” You said, your eyes scanning the room as you watched the mysterious guy leave. “I don’t think it’s our guy directly. I think he might be reporting to him,” You explained, and Miguel slowly removed his lips and fingers from your cheek, leaning back with a smirk. “We put on a pretty good show,” You smirked at him as Miguel’s other hand also landed on your waist. “He didn’t seem suspicious at all.”

“Good,” Miguel responded. “Glad you were paying attention,” He said, removing both his hands from your waist and turning back to his drink sitting on the bar. As you watched him, Miguel grabbed his rocks glass and tossed his head back as he finished the rest of his drink in one swig. “Since you did so well with that,” He said as he set his glass down, turning his head back to you. “What’s the next part of your plan?”

You looked at him with furrowed brows. Miguel said that like he was testing you, expecting you to pose the next part of your plan, and he would grade you. He may have a few superhero-ing years on you, but not enough to where he can treat you like he’s your leader. “What’s that look for?” He asked, looking you up and down. “Am I not pleasing you, my wife?”

You rolled your eyes at Miguel as he watched you. “You act like I need supervision and approval,” You started, finishing your drink before continuing. “I am just as skilled a hero as you are. But, since you asked so kindly, I do have the next part of the plan,” You said, smirking as you looked back at Miguel to see his eyebrows raise, egging you on to keep going. “We need to follow him, hopefully, he’ll lead us to his boss. So, you’re going to drag me out of here, laughing, like the drunk and in-love couple we are. Once we’re outside, push me up against the side of the building so I can get a better view of the guy,” You propose, seeing Miguel’s concern grow on his face. “Then we go from there.”

Miguel shook his head when you finished speaking. “Seems a bit overkill,” He said. “Why so much?”

“Can’t let anyone catch on that we’re undercover,” You said slyly. “If the guy catches us, our whole plan will blow,” You smirked again, this time taking your time to look him up and down. “What, did kissing my skin make you forget our whole goal of this case?”

Miguel struggled to find words for a moment, which you rarely ever see out of him. “I, uh, no,” He tried to convince you.

You cocked your head at him, finally catching him in a moment of weakness. “How am I supposed to work with you if you don’t take it seriously?” You asked, using his exact words against him, knowing you caught him off guard and distracted him. “I’ll forgive you this time, Miguel.”

He chuckled in astonishment at your boldness. “You,” He paused, “Are such a brat,” Miguel said. Your jaw dropped in surprise, but before you could respond, he smiled again and grabbed your hand, quickly dragging you out of the club like you directed in your plan.

You played along, pretending not to also have been caught by surprise, as you laughed while he pulled you through the crowd. As soon as you got out the front door, Miguel spotted the mysterious man and did exactly as you planned, turning the corner and throwing you against the brick wall. He still had his hand around one of your wrists, and he pinned it to the wall as his face stopped only an inch away from yours. “Do you see him?” He grumbled, looking into your eyes as he leaned forward.

Your eyes darted to the parking lot. “Yes,” You whispered. “He’s watching us again.”

Miguel smirked. “He must’ve enjoyed our show inside,” He said in a low tone. “Maybe we should give him another one.”

Before you could ask what he meant, he threw his head forward and attached his lips to yours hungrily. He kissed you hard for a few moments before backing off to let you breathe, but he didn’t move away, and he still had your arm pinned. This time, you were the one thrown off and distracted as you stared at Miguel with wide eyes. “Dear,” Miguel said, continuing like he didn’t just kiss you. “How do you think we get him to come over here?”

You tilted your head to get your mouth closer to his ear. “He doesn’t seem like the type that would fall for a threesome trick, so just follow my lead,” You said, which only worried Miguel in the process. You didn’t give him any time to ask what you were planning, and you quickly shoved your free hand on Miguel’s chest, pushing him back. “Hey! What are you thinking?” You shouted. “Just because I’m your wife, it doesn’t mean you can do that,” You scold Miguel, definitely taking him by surprise.

Miguel didn’t move very far because he still held your other wrist to the wall, but you looked angry, and it caught the attention of the criminal. “Mi amor,” Miguel said in a hushed tone, trying to get you to calm down. “You just look so beautiful, and all the things you say to me…” He trailed off, smiling slightly.

“I still told you not here!” You shouted again, trying to shake your wrist out of his grasp. “Let me go!”

Before Miguel could react or respond, you noticed the criminal walking closer to the two of you. “You heard the lady,” The criminal grumbled. “Let the sweet thing go.”

Instinctively, Miguel pulled his hand back from your wrist. Once it was free, you used your other hand to rub it where he held it. It didn’t hurt, but you wanted to make it look like it did. You were impressed that it worked so well in getting the criminal interested, but it was easy to tell he just wanted to be a hero and save the pretty girl.

“Good,” The criminal said, walking toward you and cutting Miguel off, forcing him to step back. “Are you okay, little one?” He asked, and you shifted your stance to respond to the man.

“I am, thank you,” You said. “My husband just had too much to drink and got too excited,” You explained.

The criminal laughed, looking back at Miguel once. “I can tell. He was all over you inside, too.”

You nodded, trying to figure out a way to steer the conversation to get him to admit what you want to hear. “Yeah, he gets like that. Thank you for your help. Not every day you’re saved by a big, strong man,” You smirked.

Miguel stayed quiet while you played the game, and the criminal was playing right into your compliments. “I’m sure I could show you a better time than whatever your lousy husband can do,” The criminal said. “A little girl like you needs a real man.”

You noticed Miguel roll his eyes at the criminal, but the criminal had no interest in him whatsoever. You giggled, fitting your role. “You’re right. Say, what do you do for work? I’m sure it’s much more interesting than the accountant my husband is.”

The criminal smirked at you. “It definitely is, little one,” He said. “But I can’t disclose that. It’s classified.”

“Pity,” You sighed and walked up to him, close enough to grab his hand. You stepped up on your tip toes to get close to his face, shooting a quick look at Miguel. “Is there any chance that you work for Kingpin?”

The criminal's smirk was wiped off his face as you asked him this question. He tried to pull his hand away from you, but you’re strong, and you had a tight grip. “Aw, big boy, where do you think you’re going?” You asked. “My husband and I just need to ask you some questions.”

Right as you said that, Miguel shot some webs at the criminal, and he fell to the ground. You wiped your hand off on your dress and shrugged once Miguel stood next to you. “Good work,” Miguel said. “Let’s get him to HQ,” He said, swiftly picking up the criminal, the two of you throwing your masks on and swinging out of the parking lot and back to headquarters.

—

You and Miguel walked out of the interrogation room after a grueling few hours. You ripped your mask off, and Miguel turned off the projection on his face, both exhausted. He asked one of the Peter Parkers to move Kingpin's goon to a holding cell so he could take a break.

“I really did not expect it to take so long for him to talk,” You sighed, running your fingers through your hair. “Though, I’m impressed how well we played our roles as husband and wife.”

As you walked down an empty hallway, HQ being nearly empty from the late hour, you looked at Miguel when he didn’t respond. “Hello? Earth to O’Hara?” You waved your hand in front of his face.

“Do you ever shut up?” He growled, glaring at you when he turned his head. “We just got out of interrogating that guy for hours, and you’re still talking,” Miguel said. “I was right. You really are an annoying brat.”

“Excuse me?” You asked Miguel, eyebrows raised. “I am not a brat.”

Miguel chuckled, shaking his head. “Ay, dios…” He muttered. “Yes, you are,” He said, turning his whole body to stand in front of you, looking down. “The entire mission only proved to me that you are.” (Oh my god).

You crossed your arms, staring up at him, annoyed at what he was calling you. “I am not.”

“Oh yeah?” He asked, his voice deep as he towered over you. Miguel looked both ways down the hallway before he put one hand on your shoulder, shoving you into the wall. His other hand grabbed your wrist, holding it tight. “If you’re not a brat, tell me you don’t like this,” He said as he brought his face closer to yours, his lips only a breath away from kissing yours.

You stayed silent, breathing heavily and trying not to react to him. “Tell me,” Miguel demanded again. “Tell me you don’t like this.”

“I can’t,” You whispered, pinned hard against the wall.

Miguel smirked. “I knew it,” He said, closing that last inch and kissing you immediately. His kiss only pushed you harder into the wall, and your bodies were touching. You tried to move your other hand that he wasn’t holding to touch his arm, but before you could barely lift it, he removed his hand from your shoulder and caught your other wrist, also pinning it to the wall. All you could do was let Miguel kiss you, and you kissed him back.

He pulled back for a moment to take a breath. “You can tell me to stop,” He said through heavy breaths.

You shook your head, also breathing heavily, looking up at him with wide eyes. “I don’t want you to stop.”

“Good,” Miguel said, letting go of your wrists and wrapping his arms around your waist. He picked you up like you weighed nothing, which surprised you, but his height and strength made it easy for him. He rushed down the rest of the hallway until he stopped at the door to his room, quickly entering and setting you down.

Upon locking the door, he pushed you up against the wall again, wasting no time returning to kissing you. He grabbed both your wrists with one hand and held them together above your head, and his other hand held your chin angled up. The kiss deepened, pulling a few moans from both of you as you couldn’t get enough of each other.

After a few minutes, Miguel pulled his head back again to let you breathe. He let out a laugh, and you could see his slight smile from the dim lamp in the corner of the room. “What?” You asked.

“Nothing, mi amor,” Miguel said. “Or…what was it the criminal called you that you liked so much?” He asked aloud, then smirked when he remembered. “That’s right. Little one. Pequeña.”

“Mhm,” You hummed, tilting your head to try to get him to kiss you again, but you didn’t have much leverage as he held your wrists and your chin.

Miguel angled his head so you couldn’t get any closer. “No, pequeña. Have some patience,” He said. “You’re going to take this suit off the moment I release your wrists, understand?”

“Yes,” You whispered, and Miguel nodded. He let your wrists drop, and he stepped back, giving you some space as he watched you peel off your skin-tight suit. He had to admit; he really hated that you changed into your costume when you returned to Spider Society HQ; he loved how you looked in the dress. But he also loved watching you listen to his command and undress only a few feet in front of him.

When you stepped out of your bodysuit, you tossed it onto the floor, and Miguel’s gaze made you feel even more exposed than you were. You still had your sports bra and underwear on, but how he stared at you made you feel completely bare. You brought your arms up to cross them in front of your stomach, trying to hide whatever else you could.

“Don’t,” Miguel said in a deep tone as he continued staring. “Keep your hands at your side, pequeña. Let me look at you,” He said, his eyes not moving. You moved your hands back to your sides and looked down at the floor for a few minutes before Miguel spoke again. “Remove your bra.”

Slowly, you moved your hands from your sides and grabbed the hem of your sports bra, slipping it over your head. You shut your eyes when your breasts were on full display, fighting the urge to hide them with your hands. “Are you uncomfortable?” Miguel asked. “If you are, we can stop everything and forget this ever happened. You just have to speak up.”

“No,” You shook your head, opening your eyes again. “Just nervous.”

“There’s no need to be,” He replied. “You have nothing to be ashamed of, pequeña.” As he said this, he walked closer to you and put one of his hands around your waist. You looked up at him, and Miguel smirked down at you. “Truly beautiful. We should go on undercover missions more often. You cleaned up nicely.”

“So did you,” You responded, causing Miguel to smile in response. “I liked pretending to be your confident wife.”

“Hmm,” Miguel said, his face getting closer to yours. “Maybe too confident. I need to get my revenge on you for your little neck-kissing stunt. How did that go? Like this?” He asked, leaning in to kiss your neck like he did just a few hours prior. He focused on a few spots above your collarbone and shoulder, sucking and biting lightly to leave some marks. After spending some time on your neck, he copied what he did earlier and left a trail of kissing up your neck, jaw, and cheek, finally settling on your lips again.

Miguel’s free hand moved and landed on your breast as he kissed you. He gently massaged, going slow in case you needed to tell him to stop, but you never did. When he pulled back from your lips, his head dove down, planted a few kisses on your chest, then smiled at you. “Come on,” He said and grabbed your wrist tightly to pull you across the room to his bed.

He set you gently on the bed, putting his hand on your chest and pushing you back to lie down. Immediately, Miguel leaned over you, straddling your hips. “Keep your hands on the bed,” He directed you as he leaned in to kiss you again, his suit still on. His weight on top of you was a different sensation from anything you had felt before, and you desperately wanted to reach your hands up and touch his hair. As he kissed you, your mind started to spin, and one of your hands moved off the bed.

Before it even got a few inches off, he caught your wrist and pushed it back into the bed. “I’m serious, pequeña. Your hands stay on the bed,” He muttered when he pulled away from your lips. “Or I will secure them to the bed.”

He didn’t give you a chance to respond before attacking your lips again, but his hand did let go of your wrist, trusting you to listen. The hand that propped himself up on the bed stayed next to you while the other made its way down to your waist, playing with the edge of your panties. “Can’t wait to get these off, pequeña,” Miguel said against your lips.

“You’re still dressed,” You replied, a slight pout on your face.

He laughed against you. “I can turn that off in an instant,” He said. “But I want to see you imagining what’s under my suit,” You can feel the smirk radiating off him. “I’ll give you a hint.”

Miguel moved his bottom half closer to you, nearly grinding up against your panties so you could feel him. You gasped at the sudden touch, not expecting to feel him in this way while he still had his suit on. “So?” He prompted.

You nodded quickly. “I’m imagining,” You promised, and he chuckled at you before kissing you again, sneaking his hand under your panty line. As Miguel ground against you and his fingers got closer to where you wanted, your hand quickly went up to his hair and pulled.

Immediately, he removed his hand from under your panties, stopped kissing you, and sat up so he wasn’t touching you at all. “Tsk,” Miguel shook his head. “I gave you one task, pequeña, and you couldn’t do it. I warned you to keep your hands on the bed,” He said, sounding a mix of both disappointment and excitement. “Put your hands above your head.”

“What?” You asked, not sure what he was getting at.

“Put your hands above your head,” He directed, more serious this time. When you still didn’t move, he rolled his eyes and leaned forward again, grabbing your wrists one by one and throwing them above your head. When he sat back up, he held out one of his arms and aimed his wrist at your hands, shooting a few webs to secure your hands and wrists to the headboard.

Miguel was amused when he saw your look of surprise. “I warned you that if you couldn’t keep your hands on the bed, then I would make sure you would,” He shrugged. “And, now, if you don’t want your feet to end up the same way, you’ll keep your legs still. Do you understand, pequeña?”

“I-I understand, Miguel,” You stammered, a bit intimidated but matching his excitement. You pulled at the webs around your wrists, testing their strength, making him laugh again.

“You know that those aren’t going anywhere,” He said, leaning back over you. He kissed along the center of your breasts and down your stomach, stopping at your panties. “I think it’s time we finally take these off,” Miguel said, hooking his finger in and pulling them down, moving your legs as he needed to get them off of you easily. He smirked when he saw you glistening. “Oh, you really want this, huh?” He asked.

You nodded in response. “Y-yes,” You said.

Miguel shook his head with a cocky look on his face. He tilted his head up as he looked down at you, and before you knew it, his suit dematerialized, and he was overtop you, smirking. There were definitely benefits to his suit being a projection, and easy access was one of them.

But he was teasing you.

Only his chest and arms were exposed, making you gasp at his bare body, but also impatient to see the rest of him the same way. “What’s that look for?” Miguel asked, knowing the answer. “You’ve seen me shirtless before. Don’t be shy now,” He said, knowing you’re vulnerable. Though it may be true, that was a different circumstance. He was patching himself up after getting hit; he wasn’t over you, smirking at you while naked and tied up. This was entirely different.

He could tell you were distracted by looking at his chest. You were staring and maybe a little stuck in your own head with all your annoying thoughts. Miguel decided that if he wanted your attention, he was going to get it and keep it.

Pulling you out of your thoughts, you yelped when you felt Miguel’s fingers run through your folds. Your legs instantly reacted, squeezing your thighs together, but Miguel just pushed them apart with a satisfied grin on his face. “Got your attention now,” He said, slowly moving his fingers up and down, quickly getting covered in your slick. You kept making noises, whimpering, and he was a little concerned. “Pequeña, if you want me to stop, just say it.”

You shook your head quickly, grounding yourself and catching your breath. “No, don’t…don’t want you to stop,” You managed to force out the complete sentence.

Upon your confirmation, Miguel nodded. He kept moving his fingers while his other hand held your thigh down, making sure you couldn’t move that one. Every few strokes, his fingers brushed over your clit, making you gasp in surprise, but it was never enough stimulation to do anything else. He was barely moving fast enough to build you up; he was still only teasing you.

When he pulled his fingers away, you groaned loudly. “What?” Miguel asked, amused. “Does someone not like being treated like the little brat she is?”

“I’m…I’m not a brat,” You argued with him, but Miguel only laughed in response.

“Oh yeah?” He asked, cocking his head as his hand came back down onto you. Quickly, he started circling your clit, flicking it a few times, then rubbing fast. “You wouldn’t like this if you weren’t a brat,” He said, the speed of his fingers increasing once he heard you starting to moan and thrash in your web bindings. “And if you weren’t a brat, you’d stay still, like you promised. Do you want me to secure the rest of your body to the bed?” Miguel asked, keeping his fingers moving against you.

It was hard to respond with all the stimulation, but you forced your body to stop thrashing and pulling because you really didn’t want him to add any more webs to your body. You wanted him to do more, to touch your harder, to fuck you, but he was taking his time. And it was driving you crazy.

Miguel knew you’d have a hard time staying still, and he let some twitches and movement slide. He only really cared about the intense pulling and struggling. You moaned against Miguel’s fast fingers as he quickly built you up to the edge of an orgasm, careful to slow down before you went over the edge.

You were right there, about to orgasm from Miguel just touching you, but he pulled away. When all stimulation stopped, your legs contracted, and you ached, yelling loudly at how mean he was. Miguel just stared at you as you writhed in desperation, screaming out how much you needed to come. He shook his head at you as he watched, his hands resting on his hips. “Pequeña mocosa,” Miguel scoffed, staring down at you. (little brat).

When you finally calmed down, still on the edge of release, you were able to open your eyes and look at Miguel. However, when you saw him this time, his whole suit was gone, and he was finally in front of you, fully naked. Your eyes widened upon seeing him like this, but it certainly wasn’t an unwelcome view.

“Staring is rude,” Miguel commented, moving to sit on the bed on his knees between your legs. “Tell me what you want, pequeña.”

“You,” You gasped out, still recovering from your almost orgasm.

Miguel laughed, leaning over you now. “I know that. I need you to be more specific,” He instructs, his hands going back down to lightly touch your pussy.

You yelped again when his hand returned to touching you, moving devilishly slow up and down, just enough to keep your brain scrambled. You almost couldn’t believe he was going to make you spell it out for him, but it also made too much sense that he wanted to hear your exact words. “I want you to fuck me raw,” You said in a low, sultry tone.

Miguel wasn’t expecting you to say that or to be that confident. He was expecting you to skirt around the question until he was so impatient that he would do what you wanted. But, after getting over his initial shock at your bluntness, he smirked. “Dios, you are such a brat,” He shook his head and removed his hand again, adjusting himself so he was more lined up with you. You watched his hand go down to his cock, grabbing it and stroking a few times. “Are you sure that’s what you want, pequeña?” Miguel asked.

You nodded your head, your eyes not leaving the sight in front of you. “Yes. I’m certain,” You said, now just waiting in anticipation. Miguel’s smirk didn’t leave his face as he teased you, lining himself up right against your entrance. You pulled at the webs around your hands, wanting to touch him, to pull him against you, and it only made him more cocky in this position. “Miguel…” You whined, stretching out his name.

A soft laugh escaped Miguel’s lips. “Fine, fine, I’ll stop messing with you,” He said and slowly, finally, pushed his cock into you. At just the tip, you let out a groan like you never had before, this new feeling of Miguel surprising you. He took the groan as encouragement, sliding all the way in and starting to pump in and out at a steady pace. As much as he wanted to fuck you raw like you so boldly dared him, he was going to ease into it a bit. He wanted to take his time, getting you even more desperate for him, so for now, he went slow.

“Faster,” You gasped, trying to move your hips in time with his, but he held you so tight you could barely move them.

“Have patience, pequeña,” Miguel said, squeezing his hands as he kept his pace steady. “Remember, stay still. I would hate to have to web up your legs. It would be terrible if you couldn’t move even an inch,” His smirk got even bigger. “Or would my little brat like that?”

You shook your head, not wanting him to have any excuse to stop his movements. It only made Miguel laugh as he moved slower to drive all the way into you, his hips against you and pausing to admire your face. “You are truly beautiful,” He said, then leaned in as he was still paused inside you. He smiled as he leaned forward, slowly attaching his lips to yours in a deep, passionate kiss, causing you to close your eyes and enjoy the sensation.

“Tell me what you want,” Miguel said once he pulled back from your lips.

After taking a deep breath, you nodded at him once. “I want you to move,” You said, desperate for any more stimulation. “I want you to go faster.”

“Hm,” Miguel hummed, looking into your eyes to see how much you really wanted him. “I think I can do that for you,” He smiled and started to move in and out of you again. His pace started slow like before, but he was quickly building up to a faster speed, thrusting his hips and grunting loudly. Your grunts and moans matched his as he sped up, going fast but not hurting you, and your legs quickly started to shake from the force of Miguel’s body.

You were going to ask Miguel to adjust so he could hit the best spot, but as soon as you opened your mouth to ask, a loud moan was forced out of you as Miguel’s fingers went right back onto your clit. He smirked when you reacted to his fingers, and he moved them slowly around you, giving you just enough stimulation to bring you back to the edge.

Your legs tightened around Miguel’s body as he pumped into you faster, and his fingers played with you. Miguel didn’t mind that you moved your legs this time because he loved the feeling of your legs around his hips, holding him to you. It made him feel powerful, like you needed him.

Miguel felt even more powerful when you couldn’t say anything besides his name and moan loudly. Those were the best noises he’d ever heard, and if he could only hear that for the rest of his life, he’d be happy. He didn’t realize until tonight how much you needed him; it was as much as he needed you.

He smirked down at you as he felt your legs start to shake around his hips, knowing you were close to your orgasm as he moved in and out of you and kept his finger playing with your clit. “Come on, pequeña, you can do it,” He encouraged you, as he also was building up to the edge of release.

You started to moan louder as you were pushed over the edge of your climax, Miguel’s hand moving quickly on your clit to help you through it. Once you screamed out, tightening around Miguel as he kept moving in and out of you. “Fuck, pequeña,” Miguel grunted, his voice low, still thrusting into you as fast as he could. He watched your eyes roll back into your head and arch your back off the bed as you screamed his name out. As soon as he heard you say his name in that rough voice, Miguel pushed over the edge with you, twitching inside you and releasing.

Miguel matched your moans, grunting your name through his orgasm. When he finally came down, he pulled out of you and collapsed on your chest. Your brain was a bit mushy, and your eyes kept fluttering shut.

You weren’t sure how you got there, but when your brain finally returned to reality, you were sitting in a bath, being cleaned off by Miguel. He was quiet, gently running a washcloth over your shoulders as he sat behind you. “Miguel?” You spoke, your voice hoarse.

“Ah, there she is,” Miguel hummed from behind you. “You feeling okay, pequeña?” He asked.

Nodding slowly, you looked a little confused. “What did I miss?”

Miguel chuckled a little. “You were a bit out of it, but it’s okay. I’ve got you,” Miguel said. “You know, you’re not such a brat when you’re like this,” He joked.

“Ha-ha,” You threw a glare at him. “I think we should be undercover partners more often.”

You watched as he shook his head, his lip curling up into a tiny smile. “Maybe,” He said. “You should go back to being quiet; you’re much more tolerable like that,” Miguel smirked, leaning in so his mouth was right next to your ear. “Who knows, maybe I’ll even fuck you until you’re raw next time,” He said.

“Hmm,” You matched his smirk. “It’s a tempting offer. I’ll think about it.”

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