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#i had a source for this but i’ve lost it sorry
ringneckedpheasant · 1 year
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i’ve been reading a book that’s an edited down version of decades worth of journals that some lady inherited from her gay uncle when he died in the late 80s (early 90s?) & in the foreword she talked about how he kept ridiculously meticulous records of like 60 years of his life that she had to sift through and I am just. having fun thinking about inflicting that on one of my sister’s kids when I eventually kick the bucket
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angelltheninth · 9 months
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A Needed Confidence Boost
Pairing: Clark Kent x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, co-worker relationship, praise kink, insecurity, fingering, size kink, desk sex, shy!Reader
Ao3
Word count: 1.6k
A/N: Clark commission for @prettysourabbie,
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“Miss, I hate to tell you this, but if you can’t deliver on a good story, or even run errands right I don’t really have much need for you as an intern or a future reporter.” Perry White leaned back in his chair, looking at you dismissively, making you feel small under his scrutiny and cold glare. It might be just you but you felt like the temperature in his office dropped, or maybe it was just your fear of losing your new job that had you shaking.
The hand on your back was a sudden source of warmth, “Come on mister White, its not her fault the bad guys were out cold. There’s not a single reporter in the city who got the scoop on them. And probably won’t for a little while since they’re being jailed right about now. She did nothing wrong.” Clark stepped up beside you, his large frame would be the perfect shield from this embarrassment.
“I-I’m s-sorry. I’ll do better. P-Promise.” You honestly felt like crying. This was supposed to be your big break, instead you ran all over this city, dragged Clark with you, lost him half-way there, and still had nothing to show for it.
Mister White looked from you to Clark and with a heavy sigh waived you away, “One more chance. Stick with Clark, he’s been though this and now he’s one of our best reporters.”
“Y-Yes sir. Thank you!” You weren’t out of the woods yet but just stepping out of that office and still having your job felt like an achievement, “Sorry for getting you into trouble Clark.”
But Clark’s eyes held no trace of anger or annoyance towards you. Its strange to feel such warmth form eyes as blue as his, yet every time he looked at you there was a heat spreading through your body. “No problem. He was right, I’ve been though this. Meet me here tomorrow and I promise we’ll find something juicy.” You looked up at him, eyes hopeful but a tiny bit skeptical, how was he gonna just... find a story? “Trust me, I can feel it.” His large hand squeezed around yours. Were his hands always so big? Clark noticed what he did too, quickly pulling away and loosening the collar of his vest, “Tomorrow morning then?”
The slightly higher tone of his voice made your heart skip a beat. Right as it did Clark’s eyebrows rose up, almost as if he heard the elevated heartbeat. “Right. Tomorrow. See you, uh C-Clark.” You turned before he saw how hot your face got because in your head this sounded a lot like a date. A work date? Is there such a thing? Did Clark see you as more then a co-worker? Those questions kept you up almost the entire night, your alarm startling you from your bed and sending you running to the office room.
Or what was kind of an office room to Clark and his team.
It wasn’t as run down or cluttered as it was when they started but it wasn’t the best room either. They’d all been offered better but they always refused, citing that this room meant a lot to them. And so Clark, Lois and Jimmy claimed this office for as long as they liked.
You slammed the door open a bit too loudly in your haste to make it there. It must have been very loud cause it made Clark jump and cringe as he covered his ears, “Oh! Sorry. That was too loud.” You eased the door closed behind you and set your bag on what was actually Clark’s chair but he always let you use it when you were at his team’s office.
“No harm done, I have sensitive hearing so loud noises can be an issue, not your fault, I learned to live with it.” Clark chuckled, handing you an envelope, “Got something you might want to check out. I think you’d do good with this one.”
His smile exuded confidence so you were at least curious. “Clark... is this...” You looked up at him, then back at the apparent scoop he offered you, “C-Clark. This is Lena Luthor. Why would you give me this? I-I-I can’t go talk to her! I can’t even talk to criminals that Superman fights!”
Lena Luthor was the sister of Lex Luthor, current head of Lexcorp, and very much in the public eye right now due to a new tech she’s been looking into. No one’s managed to get an interview with her yet. Not even Clark and Lois, or Cat Grant.
“Well... she will be in Metropolis today and tomorrow. If you get a single word from her about her upcoming project I guarantee Perry will give you the job. I know she doesn’t talk to many reporters but look at you, she can’t say no to your cute face.” This time he didn’t just stop there, rounded the desk and walked up behind you, pointing with his finger, “She’ll be at this lecture in about an hour. You’ve got this. I know you think you don’t have what it takes but I read your reports and they’re amazing.” Once again your heartbeat speed up at his warm, kind words, but also from the close proximity of his body to yours. “You just need help with being more vocal.”
“A-And how do I do that?” You didn’t dare to look up at him, he was already slouching, his breath feeling both hot a cold against your ear. When his mouth opened to speak it startled you, to hear him so close. You back up against his frame, his hands catching you and, with best gentle efforts, pushing you back forward. How is he so strong to push you entirely against the desk, your breasts against the papers, your ass accidentally brushing against his crotch. “Fuck me.” You whisper, very much to yourself and not meant for his keen ears. “You’re really strong.”
“Huh? What was that?” Clark leaned over you rather then backed away, “Did you just say you wanted me to fuck you?” It was so unusual for Clark to tease you, it took your brain a bit to reboot and catch up. “I wasn’t referring to that kind of vocal.”
“I d-didn’t mean it like that. Come on Clark, let me up.” You couldn’t budge him off, it was all too easy for him to hold you down with one hand pressed against your lower back.
You risked a glance at him, his cheeks were as pink as one of his favorite shirts, his frame bulging with every breath. He was flustered too! So how could he sound so calm? “I think you should try it again. Tell me what you want.” He wasn’t forceful by any means, he kept his eyes soft, his voice low, his hand massaging your thigh under your skirt. When did you open your legs? When did it get so hot in here? “Speak up. Clearly, or I stop.”
That was the most threatening thing he said thus far. This was beyond embarrassing, “What if someone comes?”
“Isn’t that the point?” Clark’s large hand cupped between your legs, two fingers bending in a scratching motion over your wet panties.
“N-Not f-funny Clark.” You moaned, the noise echoing around the small office.
“Funny to me. Plus, I have sensitive hearing remember? I’ll hear them. Now, sweetheart, tell me what you want. Be clear, be loud, be confident. I know you can do it.” His words stoked the fire inside you, your head swimming with every dirty thought you’ve had about him and never had the confidence to say. His hands on around your ankles, pushing your legs up, your eyes locked on his huge, thick cock as it enters you and splits you open with its girth, his muscles flexing, sweaty and glistening as the echoes of naked flesh slapping fill your bedroom. “All of that? I see. I can’t do it to you here but I hope this will satisfy you enough.”
You felt two thick fingers moving your panties to the side and plunging into your heat, your pussy clamping around his thick digits, “I didn’t mean to say all that.”
“But you did. So beautifully too.” His fingers curled upwards, pushing against your g-spot, “My fingers might snap in half if you keep clenching so hard. Are you close? Tell me.”
“So close. Feels... full. And with just your fingers. Your cock would split me in two.” It would hurt to take him, you’re sure your pussy would have a hard time with it. “I w-want... your cock Clark.” You confessed in between gasps and whimpers and the wet, lewd, dirty sounds of Clark’s palm slapping against your thighs.
“I can tell. A girl like you need something thicker to make her happy.” You waited for the sound of a zipper, instead it was the sound of your pussy squelching and stretching around a third finger, “I can hear someone. You better finish if you want an orgasm. I know you can finish on command. Squeeze my fingers, show me how you’re gonna milk me dry.”
“Clark!” You called his name once before slapping your hand over your mouth, remembering that he said there was someone on their way here. You let him drag your orgasm out one stroke at a time, his fingers sticky with your juices, dripping down all the way to his wrist.
He pulled them out carefully, setting your panties and your skirt back into place and wiping his fingers on his pants, right over the outline of his cock. “How are your pants not bursting?” Even covered you could tell he was fucking huge.
Clark laughed a little nervously, “I admit I have a hard time shopping for underwear and condoms.” Oh, so he was just humble bragging now, lovely. “You did very well once you got into it. If you can do this with me you can definitely talk to miss Luthor.” Fuck, that’s right. You had to go interview Lena Luthor!
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kiss-theggoat · 4 months
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I’m back again! I’m a sucker for Thomas Hewitt okay, and there isn’t enough about him! I was wondering if you could do another fic about him, a childhood friend of Thomas’s who moved away comes back in town. She ends up staying with them while she is in town, unknowingly having interrupted their killing plans, leaving a victim down in the basement and unknown from reader. But when the family isn’t home (who knows why) victim escapes and attacks reader. Reader attacks back but ends up killing the victim on accident. In fear she hides the body but the guilt kills her and she ends up telling Thomas. (I know out of character stuff)
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A/N: Thank you for the request, I really love writing for Thomas and hope you like! 🖤
Surprise!
Thomas Hewitt x F!Reader
Word Count: 3K
Summary: After years of being away from home, you finally decide to visit your hometown…only to see it’s been shut down. Only one family still lives there, and thankfully, you know them, and they offer to let you stay there! But…after a few days, you start to sense that something isn’t right.
TW: Canon-Typical Violence
The drive to Texas was long, but as you watched the dust and sagebrush go by, your chest swelled with excitement. You hadn’t been back in your hometown since your parents made you leave when you were younger, and now that you finally had your own car and your own money, the first thing on your list was to visit that sleepy little Texas town you’d missed since you left. The only issue was that as you kept driving…you noticed that all of the street signs leading to town were decrepit. You thought…well, you’d been gone a long time…just normal wear and tear under the Texas sun, right?
Wrong.
As you drove into town…you felt your chest tighten at the state of things. Almost every single building was boarded up, windows shattered and spray painted, signs on the ground and covered in dust. There was no way that anyone lived here, hell, the only stoplight in town didn’t even work…
Your car sputtered to a stop in front of what used to be your favorite little convenience store. Where you used to go inside and beg your mom to buy you all of the candy she said was off limits. The same store you got caught stealing a candy bar with your best friend and thought you both might get arrested by the sheriff. You slammed your car door shut, dust clouding around you in a plume of sadness in nostalgia. It was so quiet…not even a cricket…until you heard a siren.
How can an abandoned town have law enforcement? You raised a hand to block the relentless sunlight, turning to the source of the sound, where an old cop car rolled up beside you. The tint on the windows was definitely illegal, but thankfully, the sheriff slowly rolled it down, revealing his scowling face, eyes blocked by sunglasses.
“What’s a pretty thing like you doin’ in town?” He asked, lip stuffed with chew. His voice was gruff, but sounded so oddly familiar to you. You leaned in closer, eyes squinting in order to get a better look at him. You peered at the name badge…Hoyt. That didn’t sound familiar at all…but then he said your name. You continued to look at him in confusion as he pulled his sunglasses off, his eyes full of recognition. This man obviously knew you…but who was he?
He stepped out of the car and shut the door, leaning against it as he spit a puddle of black sludge onto the ground. “Well I’ll be damned. Thought I’d never see your pretty face again.”
“I’m sorry…it’s been a long time since I’ve been here and…the name Hoyt doesn’t ring any bells.” I told him, pointing at the nameplate on his chest.
“Oh this is a buddy’s uniform. Lost my own badge. The name Hewitt ring any bells? Charlie Hewitt.” He spit again, closer to your shoe this time, making you cringe and step away just a little. At first, you didn’t remember the name Hewitt either…until you remembered Thomas. The one boy in your class that never came to school, was always bullied or called names because of his face. Your eyes lit up as you made eye contact with him, a smile spreading onto your lips.
“Hewitt! Yes! I remember Thomas.” You said happily. If the Hewitt family was still here, then the town couldn’t be completely shut down, right?
This seemed to annoy Charlie in a way, his lip curling up into a sneer at the sound of Thomas’ name. “Course you remember that big oaf. Hard to miss ‘im.” He spat the rest of his chew onto the ground, wiping his lip with the back of his hand, “Where you plannin’ on stayin’?”
This made you sigh. You were hoping the little motel would still be open, but you’d just driven past it, and from the looks of it, its only residents were probably rats and roaches. “Well, actually…I probably have to drive back to Austin tonight. I didn’t know the town had…” you stopped talking, eyes landing on Charlie’s wrinkled face, not wanting to say anything rude about the hometown you shared.
“Gone under?” He broke out into a wheezy laugh, making it very clear to you that he’d probably been smoking like a chimney since you left. “Yeah. Not a lotta folks left. But Austin’s a long way and it’s gettin’ dark…not safe for a pretty little thing like you to be alone.” The way he spoke sent shivers down your spine. You knew him…but he seemed …different. His eyes had a sinister glow to them, the way he stared down at your chest made you want to hop in your car and never come back. “Why don’t you come stay at the house? M’sure Luda Mae would love havin’ another girl around.” He took a step closer to you, eyes still focused where they shouldn’t be.
You spoke quickly, definitely quick enough to make your uneasiness known. “No, that’s okay…I really don’t mind driving back into the city.”
This seemed to amuse Charlie. “Oh, we insist. Tommy will be there…don’t think he’s seen someone like you in his whole life.”
For some reason, the mention of Thomas made you actually want to go. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but your memories of Thomas, while very little, were only fond. He was a big kid for his age, and very misunderstood, but always very kind and quiet. And…he did say there would be another girl there, right? So you wouldn’t just be alone with this creep. Maybe going to visit the Hewitt’s would be a nice walk down memory lane.
“Okay…sure. It is getting pretty late, I guess.” You agreed, making him smile and show off his stained yellow teeth.
“Perfect. Just drive behind me.” He told you, opening the door to his cop car.
The drive to the Hewitt’s home was longer than you’d thought, and their house was huge. As you parked behind Charlie, you stared up at the house in awe, seeing every single window illuminated. You supposed that with the entire town pretty much out of commission, they owned whatever property they wanted. Your shoes crunched against the gravel as Charlie led you inside, and the moment he opened the door, a feeling of discomfort settled deep in your stomach.
The house was cozy, but eclectic. Too eclectic, like every item inside belonged to a different owner at some point in time. It smelled like a mixture of expired perfume and rotting meat, a sickeningly sweet film settling on your sweaty skin, making it hard to breath inside the home. You stuck a smile on your face anyways, not wanting to seem rude as you were led into the dining room. It seemed as though you were interrupting dinner, everyone already seated in front of their bowls, full of some sort of stew. Your presence immediately turned heads, all six eyes fixed on you and Charlie standing in the doorway.
“Well I don’t believe it…” The lady whispered, who you immediately recognized to be Luda Mae. God, she’d gotten old. You remember her being old when you were in elementary school, and part of you wondered how she was still alive. Across from her sat an elderly man, who somehow looked twenty years older than her. He was sitting there, eyes on you but unfocused, like he was staring at the air between you and the table. Last to meet your gaze was Thomas.
Your heart sank when you saw him, or what was exposed. The leather mask covering his face upset you beyond reason. You knew that Tommy had been bullied for his looks when you guys were little, but never thought he’d make a custom mask to wear, even around his family, and at dinner for god's sake. That’s when it occurred to you, he wasn’t even eating.
“Found ‘er down by the old gas station lookin’ for a place to stay. Ain't she pretty?” Charlie asked, his voice low and predatory as walked towards his seat at the head of the table. The way he spoke about you, like you were just a piece of meat, made your skin crawl.
You gave everyone a polite smile and a little wave before speaking. “Well, I expected the motel to still be open…really, I can find somewhere else to stay, I hate to impose if-“
“Oh don’t be silly!” Luda interrupted. “We’d love to have you. You’ve just gotten so pretty…hasn’t she Tommy?” Your eyes shot to a very flustered looking Thomas, his eyes fixed on his steaming bowl of stew, still untouched.
“Please dear, have a seat, you’re just in time for dinner.”
To be completely honest…you didn’t want to eat their dinner. Something about the house and their demeanor made you want to leave, but if there was one thing you learned about growing up in Texas, it was to accept the hospitality.
“Thank you, Luda Mae.” You said softly, accepting the seat beside Thomas. Charlie scooped a full ladle of soup into a bowl and set it in front of you. With clammy hands you grabbed the spoon, noticing that none of their silverware matched. The spoon you had was delicate, handle slim with swirled details adorning the shiny silver.
All of the Hewitt’s stared at you with prying eyes as you scooped yourself a bite. It contained a chunk of meat, a carrot, and an onion, along with the broth they soaked in.
The moment that stew touched your tongue, you knew something was wrong. The meat tasted off, way too gamey. You’d had your fair share of meats, different kinds of game and homemade foods made with hunting prizes but this…unlike anything you’d ever tasted. It was tender, and didn’t taste bad, but the unfamiliar taste tainted the whole soup, causing alarm bells to go off in your head.
You were soon distracted by the sounds of the family scarfing down their own dinner, spoons hitting porcelain and lips smacking. In no time, your bowl was empty, and so was everyone else’s…except for Thomas’. But, this seemed normal among dinner time as Luda Mae cleared the dishes without a word.
“Tommy. Show our guest to ‘er room for the night, would ya?”
The wooden chair screeched against the floor when Thomas stood. He just seemed to keep going…he towered over you. You craned your neck to stare at him, mouth open and eyes widening. You stood from your own chair, noticing how much larger he was than you. You stood at his chest, and he easily doubled you in width.
Without a word he started walking past you, and you figured he meant for you to follow, so you did. The more you explored the house, the less cozy it got, and by the time you made it to the guest room, it was plain and simple, just a bed with white sheets in the middle of an empty room. Thomas stood at the door, taking up the entire entrance.
“Thank you, Thomas.” You said quietly, giving him a small smile that made him turn away from you. “It’s really nice to see you.”
The longer you stared, the more you realized that he was still the same old Tommy. A gentle giant with pretty brown eyes that sucked you in until you didn’t want to look away.
Just as you were getting lost in your thoughts, Charlie shoved Thomas aside, holding your bag that you’d left in your car.
“‘Ere you go, gorgeous.”
“Thanks, Charlie…” you said softly, grabbing the bag. That was nice of him, but you don’t remember giving him your car keys…
“My rooms just downstairs if you need anythin’.” Charlie sent you an uncomfortable wink, reminding you to lock your door tonight, and walked away. Thomas stood with his head down, still in the doorway.
“Uhm…goodnight, Thomas.” You said softly, a smile gracing your face again. This time, he looked at you. And you could’ve sworn that before you closed the door, his eyes crinkled, like he might’ve smiled too. You closer the door, and grumbled at the lack of a lock, finally getting ready for bed.
A shriek yanked you from your peaceful slumber, making you sit up straight in bed. Your heart was pounding, and you reached over to turn on the small bedside lamp. You were hoping it was just a nightmare, something you could just ignore and go back to the weirdly comfy mattress but the longer you sat there, the more you heard. Footsteps, whispering…but they sounded so frantic. Not like someone getting up for a glass of water or a midnight snack.
Slowly and hesitantly, you walked towards the door and pulled it open, bare feet finding every single splinter in the floor until you were finally in the hallway, staring down the stairs in the dark with wide, fearful eyes. Everything seemed fine…until a woman stumbled into your field of vision. She was bloody, open wounds on her back in an odd spot…did she just break into the house? She was near the front door and none of the Hewitt’s were with her. You stared at her, panicking, especially when you made eye contact.
Your blood went cold and you quickly backed up, barely hanging onto the banister.
“You have to help me, please! You have no idea what is going on here, we have to get out, you have to help me!” The girl started to ramble, but her voice was a whisper-like scream. Her bloodied hands hit the stairs and she began to crawl towards you.
You stared blankly, overcome by the fear and shock of seeing her inside the home…before you knew it, she made it to you. She gripped your ankle with a sticky hand, pulling you closer to the stairs. “Please!” She hissed, her eyes wide and crazed.
Instinctively, you tried to kick her hand away from you, pulling away. You felt your breathing speed up, panic overwhelming you. “Get off me!”
Her eyes flashed with realization, and she immediately recoiled. “You…you’re one of them…oh my god!” She wailed, voice full of dread and tears flowing down her cheeks. One of them? What did that even mean? This sorrow and dread only lasted a few seconds…before she turned to rage. Her face scrunched and it was like she’d been struck by lightning, body invigorated and suddenly strong enough to function. She stood and lunged at you, hands on your shoulders.
Your breath left your lungs as she slammed you against the wall, the back of your head aching in a way it never had before. In an attempt to get her off of you, you pushed her as hard as you could, feeling the slick blood on her shoulder and her neck where your hands hit her. Your eyes were closed tightly as you shoved, but it didn’t take vision to know what happened to her. Her body stumbled down the stairs, thumping all the way down, groans and grunts escaping her as she trailed blood all the way down.
You covered your mouth with your trembling hands…you’d just killed someone…you felt nauseous, you could feel your stomach turning as you stared at her body at the bottom of the stairs, laying limp. You prayed and prayed that she’d move, but she never did. A door slammed open from somewhere downstairs and that’s when you realized…
You’d just killed someone inside of someone else’s home. Tears rolled down your face and you slid down the wall to the ground, knees shaking and unable to support your weight anymore. Heavy footsteps approached the dead body at the bottom of the stairs…and Thomas came into your field of view. He stared nonchalantly at the woman, but turned to face you when he heard your sob.
“Thomas I’m so sorry I don’t know what happened…” you whispered, face bright red from crying and entire body shaking. Thomas stood still for a moment, but when he started moving, nothing could’ve stopped him. He knelt on the stairs in front of you, huge hand taking yours.
The warmth radiated through your fingers and up into your arms, making them feel less shaky and cold and traumatized. You stared up at Thomas, bleary eyes filled with tears, realizing that he wasn’t mad…or scared…he wanted to help you. Relief overwhelmed you, and you couldn’t stop yourself from moving closer to him, arms wrapped around his broad waist, head buried against his chest. With your panicking, you barely noticed the fact he wore a button up and a leather apron, droplets of blood smearing against your cheek. You didn’t care. Thomas wrapped his tree trunk arms around you and held you against him…it was like nothing else mattered. Comfort washed over you and for a moment you felt like you hadn’t just killed a woman for no reason.
“S-she just attacked me, she jumped at me and grabbed me and she was yelling and-“
Thomas’ hand gently stroked your hair as if to shush you, his cheek resting against the top of your head as he held you as close as he could.
There was nothing that would stop him from being close to you. Not the three bodies in the basement, and definitely not the bitch that hopped off the hook.
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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year
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MW2 Reaction to Their S/O Who Self-Harms
Warnings: Heavy Mentions of Self-Harm, Non-Explicit Mentions of Injuries, Mentions of Violence (Not Towards Reader), Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Petnames, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.
A/N: Hey guys, just letting you know that this post is a bit heavier than my usual ones. This has been requested of me quite a few times, so here it is. I’ve tried to remain as realistic and respectful as possible while bringing you your favourite MW2 people. I’m going to link some mental health resources here for anyone who needs them, and I implore anyone suffering, regardless of whether you self-harm or not, to please, please talk to someone. Nobody deserves to live with the weight of poor mental health, so if you’re able, don’t hesitate to reach out to someone and tell them how you’re feeling ! Friends, family members, pets – anyone who you think will be able to be a good listening partner, even if they’re not a licensed therapist. And if you feel you have no-one to talk to, there are always options ! Local and national mental health services, some of which are free and don’t show up on phone bills ! A lot of the time, simply speaking about what’s hurting you is the first step to mental healing <3. Please stay safe, guys <3
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Ghost
Is appalled at himself that he didn’t notice sooner.
He bundles you up into his arms, pulling you as close to him as physics will allow, and then some. His head is buried in your shoulder, his grip around you tight, but he doesn’t hurt you.
“Oh, Sweetheart– I’m so sorry,” you hear him whisper. His voice is thin and high as if the composite of helium, yet a sombre tone weights it.
“I should’ve known how you were feeling – I should’ve been here for you more–”
It doesn’t matter how much you try to console him, or how well you are able to conceal your suffering. Simon will never forgive himself for allowing you to go through this alone.
“It’s no excuse,” he says, and there’s a hitch to his voice. Something wet, warm, hits your shoulder.
Now, distraught as if he’d already lost you, Simon pulls away just so he can see your face. His eyes are glossy and red with tears, his face the mask of anguish.
He takes your head in his hands, holds it at the jaw, and, with angel tenderness, presses a kiss to your crown.
He tucks your head beneath his chin, encases you with his body again.
“I’m never gonna let anything hurt you,” he says, and you can feel his heart pounding against his chest. “Not again.”
And you know he means it.
Due to his own mental health struggles, Simon will use his own logic to try and help you.
He’s never had anyone to rely on – before you, at least – so he makes himself available to you wherever and whenever you need him.
He does everything you ask of him without question, whether that’s making you a bowl of soup or listening to whatever thoughts roll into your head.
He helps you get ready for bed and tucks you in when he can tell it’s been a taxing day, mentally or physically.
And he watches over you, as if to make sure you don’t disappear before his eyes, before going to sleep himself.
There’s nothing he loves more than to hold you, whether you’re upset or not. He just wants to feel your weight and your warmth in his arms, nuzzling you and telling you “I love you. D’you know that ? Very, very much,”
You do know. He tells you every waking moment.
And throughout it all, despite the unfortunate circumstances from which this is derived, Simon is just glad that you want to open up to him, and he’ll never deny you a request or a question, wanting to remain a source of hope and comfort to you for as long as you need him.
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König
König’s many dealings with his own occupation have clued him into how severe one’s mental health issues can become. Especially when left unattended.
And, as a result, König has the propensity to become…overbearing.
Of course, he’s mortified that you’ve been suffering in silence this whole time, and while he knows he can’t change the past, or rewrite the stars to ensure this never happens again, he does everything in his power to prevent you from falling into despair.
“It’s okay, Engel,” he says, taking you into his arms and holding you close so you can hear his thundering heart. “You’re safe. You’re alright, you’re alright…”
In the beginning of your shared journey to healing, König tries to do anything and everything for you. Chores, cooking, pillow readjustment – anything he thinks would be a nuisance to you.
However, he ends up completing tasks that you actually find enjoyable, leaving nothing for you to do.
While you appreciate everything he’s doing – very much so ! – you still want some independence, even if it’s minimal. And you told him as much.
König looked like he was on the verge of tears when he apologised: “I just wanted to do what was best for you, Darling,”
You have to console him, tell him that his gallant efforts are not appreciated.
König still keeps an eye on you if he has cause to believe you may be trying to self-harm again, but he won’t smother you.
He’ll wait for you to come to him, trusting that you know yourself and him well enough to understand that there is nothing you can’t tell him.
Even if you relapse, or stumble a little, König always encourages you to get back up.
“That’s why our skin heals,” he says, holding your injured arm in his hand, cleansing you of your pain. “So we can start again.”
He loves taking you out on trips – anywhere he knows you’ll like.
He just wants to see you feel something again. Or at least see a sliver of happiness light up your face, even if just for a second.
Petting zoo, amusement park, shopping trip, spa day – you name it, it’s yours !
At the end of the day, when you’re exhausted and König is carrying you home on his back, your 6’10 military princess is just happy that he gets to spend time with you, your warmth the best he’s ever felt.
And he’ll do whatever he can to keep it. To keep you.
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Soap
Initially, he’s in denial. But when he sees how tired you are, how grey your soul has become, his heart tears, and everything he’s ever felt for you comes pouring out.
He takes your hands in his, and, the feeling of tears burning his throat, he buries kisses into the back of them.
“I love you– so, so much,” he says, breathless. “You know that, don’t you ?”
The tone in his voice suggests haste, or perhaps desperation. The need for you to know that you are loved. Very, very dearly.
And when you start to cry, Johnny can’t keep his tears in any longer.
“It’s okay, my Love, it’s okay,” he tells you, voice low and soft.
He pulls you into an embrace from which you gather the impression you will never escape. Not while he’s holding on to you as if you could slip between his fingers at any minute.
“We can get through this. Together,”
His assurance is resolute as the sunrise in the morning, and you know, from the way he holds you, speaks to you, that what he’s saying is true.
“You’re okay. You’re safe now. We’ll be okay…”
Johnny makes a concerted effort to watch over you more from now on.
You still maintain your independence – that’s not an issue.
But if he can sense you’re not feeling too good, he’ll either ask if you want to talk about it or wait for you to come to him.
He trusts you to come to him when you’re ready, just as he trusts you with his heart.
He makes sure to ask what your boundaries are when it comes to talking about mental health, just to be sure that he doesn’t accidentally overstep or trigger you in any way.
The last thing he wants to do is upset you. He’d never forgive himself if he did.
And whenever you come and tell him that you’re feeling a little better today, or you found even just one, tiny thing to celebrate, like finding a cool pebble, he’s overjoyed, overcome with pride for your achievements.
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Valeria
She is daughter and heir to her own demons, but none of them compare to the thought of you harming yourself or being harmed.
Her initial reaction is anger, but not towards you.
Never towards you.
She wants to eradicate whoever or whatever has driven you to feel this way.
It will take some explaining that the source of your pain isn’t necessarily easy to vanquish, and even if it is, right now, all you want is comfort.
Valeria doesn’t cry. Not in front of you.
Instead, she pulls you to her chest and cradles you while you tell her all your worries, your problems, your sorrows.
And, when she settles you into bed, she embarks on a journey to rid you of your demons.
If they are caused by something external, it’s gone by the time morning rolls around.
If your habits are a result of something within yourself, Valeria will try to remedy it as best she can.
Hours upon hours of research, tending to you whenever you need her, letting you know she’ll never let anyone or anything hurt you–
“And that’s a Valeria guarantee !”
She never breaks out her humorous side, so you know she means it.
She does have the potential to become a helicopter girlfriend, so you’ll have to speak with her and establish some boundaries if there are some things you wish to do alone.
Valeria will understand, but she does get worried when she doesn’t hear from you every hour, and she has to resist the urge to send one of her men to check on you.
At the end of the day, she trusts you and knows that you are your own person, intelligent enough to make your own choices.
All she wants is to be able to be with you, and so long as you plan on sticking around, she will work to bring you a life that can chase away the shadows in your mind.
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Price
Due to Price’s fatherly nature, his immediate reaction is deep concern.
“Oh, Love,” he says, his brow creased as his discovery weighs heavy on his face. In all his years as a military professional, he’s seen many a mortifying scene. But none of them have hurt to witness as much as your suffering.
“Come and tell me about it,” he tells you, bringing you to sit beside him on the sofa. “Tell me everything, and I’ll listen.”
Whether you confide in him or not is entirely up to you; he won’t force you to divulge anything you don't want to. But he does remind you that “We’re a team, you and I. There’s nothing you can’t tell me – that we can’t tell each other.”
And he means it. Truly.
Whenever you stand by the doorway to his study, he drops everything and invites you to sit with him, on him – whatever you want to do.
And he listens to anything and everything you tell him.
Price is an incredibly intuitive, intelligent man, and whatever you tell him, even in passing fancy, you can expect to have it within an hour of you unintentionally requesting it.
Price once bundled you up in a blanket and carried you around the house, calling you “Love Bug”. Sometimes he uses it as a comforting tactic since it keeps you warm and you can be nearer to him whenever you want to be.
He calls you his “Brave little soldier” whenever he’s tending to your scrapes or cuts (intentional or otherwise), telling you how you’re the “Strongest warrior this side of the planet !”
He’s always looking for ways to make you smile.
It doesn’t matter what he has to do to achieve a result; for you, there are no boundaries to his love.
And yes, that includes making duck lips out of Pringles.
Or walrus tusks out of chopsticks.
And whenever you smile, no matter how faint, John knows that, regardless of how bleak things may seem now, everything’s going to be okay.
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Horangi
Given how mental health is rarely spoken about in Horangi’s birthplace, even stigmatised, he understands how difficult it can be coming out to someone about your inner struggles.
Initially, he sighs, though not out of frustration or anger.
But rather, understanding.
He knows there’s nothing he can say to make everything alright, but he wants to try and help you in any way he can.
And the first step is thanking you for opening up to him.
“I’m just happy you felt you could talk to me about this, 내꺼.”
He does everything in his power to make your life easier: doing your laundry, keeping your toiletries organised, preparing your meals; anything that’ll put a smile on your face or just make your day more bearable.
He doesn’t want you to feel as if he’s trying to sanitise the content you watch, but if he suspects or outright knows that specific topics or content triggers you, he’ll try to steer you away from it and bring you some safer alternatives.
He knows that everyone has different contributors and triggers so he never assumes that one specific thing may be yours; instead, he asks what makes you feel good, what doesn’t, or, if you don’t want to talk about it, he’ll try and use his intuition.
He’ll never force you to give something up, though. But he’ll gently advise against it if he feels it isn’t serving you in your journey to mental healing.
He teaches you how to ground yourself in a way that’s immediate and effective, and, whatever the weather, he’ll take you outside if you ask him to – to feel the rain or the sun or the snow, or to be held by the fog that rolls in over the oceans and mountains.
And he’ll always be there to hold your hand when you want him to, to be your shoulder to hold on to when you can no longer stay standing; your driftwood in the black sea, leading you to the lighthouse on a calm shore.
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Alejandro
After priding himself on being the one person in the whole world who knows you the best, he feels his world shatter.
Not because he’s been proven wrong – his ego does not come into this equation – but because he feels as if he could somehow have helped prevent whatever feeling has driven you to self-harm.
Alejandro is a strong man, both physically and emotionally. But seeing you like this, in a ceaseless sea of despair, he crumbles, falls to his knees before you as if you are God itself.
“Mi Amor…why ?” is all he can say. “What has caused you to do this ?”
When you explain to him that, sometimes, it’s not anything external at all, but entirely conjured within your own mind, your own worst enemy, he understands.
Even when he feels he has failed you, he refuses to allow you to come to any more harm, whether from yourself or someone else.
“We– we can get help for you, or– or we can just stay here, go out like we always do, go and see new things–”
Alejandro is the type to throw anything at the wall until it sticks. And by god, he is not stopping until something sticks.
He pays particularly close attention to you now. Not so much as to become a helicopter boyfriend, but enough so that you know he’s there.
He grants you your privacy, believes you are entitled to it as anyone else is, regardless of your condition.
But, if you disappear for half an hour or more, he’ll come to check on you.
He doesn’t want you feeling smothered, but he’s just so terrified of losing you that he’s not sure what to do for the best.
You may have to help him here. Let him know what you want, what you need, so he can do what is right by you.
He apologises for reacting the way he did when you initially told him. “It was…selfish, self-centred. I thought that I could just– destroy whatever was hurting you. But…now, I see that’s not how it works.”
Alejandro doesn’t rest until he knows you’re at maximum comfort and happiness (however much your mind will permit that day), and he will shield you from anything that could cause you to spiral, no matter what.
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Rodolfo
For the first time, he’s dead serious. His face goes straight and thin with what you think is consideration.
And he stays that way until he breaks his own silence, his eyes softening as he looks at you.
“Mi Sol,” he says, quiet, as if keeping a secret. And then, you see it. Just a flicker. But a weight bears down on his shoulders – one which wasn’t there before. But it isn’t a burden of weight. Far from it. And you know this when Rodolfo smiles, his eyes becoming glassy.
It’s the weight of love, of his heart taking on your load, halving it.
He holds his arms out to you, pulling you to him.
“Thank you for telling me,” he says. His hold around you tightens. “I know that can’t have been easy,”
From then on, he is at your beck and call – 24/7.
Though, this isn’t a big change given how he already willingly threw himself at any request you made. But now, he uses his intuition more. Taps into verbal or physical cues that let him know you’re not feeling all that good today, and so he’ll take over the chores and tell you to go and sit down.
He makes your favourite meal every night you want it, no matter how unorthodox it is.
Cereal and a plate of sausages ? You got it. Spaghetti with dino nuggies ? It’s already on the table.
The only time Rodolfo will ask you to do anything is when he thinks it’s for your own good – like taking a quick walk with him around the block so you’re out in the sunshine for a bit. Or washing your hair when he can tell it’s getting you down.
He never makes you do anything you don’t want to, though.
Nor does he make you talk when you don’t want to.
He listens whenever you come to him of your own volition. And if he can tell something is really bothering you, he’ll press once for any kind of information. If you don’t want to tell him, he drops it. But he’d rather risk your upset and try to find a solution to whatever’s upsetting you than live to regret it later when it all becomes too much for you.
And whenever you confide in him, he can’t hide how lucky he feels to have someone as special as you; even if you don’t see it right now, Rodolfo knows you’re the most important person in the world, and he won’t stop until you’ve grown into the person you’re destined to be, no matter how long it takes.
And he’s with you every step of the way.
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Graves
At first, he was overwhelmed.
Of course, he was hurt that you’d been suffering – and hid it so well, too.
“Darlin’... I’m so sorry – I should’a known or asked or– done– somethin’ !”
To rectify his self-proclaimed self-inattentiveness, he purchases the best therapist money can buy.
“So you can tell ‘em all about your feelings,”
He doesn’t realise how insensitive a gesture can be until it’s too late; it doesn’t even occur to him that you may not want a therapist, but just to speak to someone you know.
Someone like Graves.
And this is something you’ll have to teach him.
But, of course, this will also take time for him to adjust to.
“Well…I– uh…Are ya sure ?”
He cannot wrap his head around the idea that you could ever possibly want to confide in him about something so important, but he’s relieved that you do.
It takes time for him to understand that he doesn't need to have all the answers, or be a trained professional to help you feel better.
He just needs to be there.
To listen, to help whenever you ask for it (or when he can tell you want it).
He makes himself available to you as often as he can, sending others on business trips for him if he knows you’re encountering a particularly rough patch.
Your opening up to him inspires him to open up more, too.
Sometimes, late in the night, you sit together, awake, pouring your wine-darkest thoughts and patchwork memories into a never ending conversation.
Philip wants you to know that he’s always got time for you, so he joins you more frequently in your hobbies, and yours his.
Anything to simply be with you. And also to finish this cool bauble he’s started decorating.
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Gaz
Gaz is young; he grew up in a generation that values mental health above all else, so he knows a thing or two about helping people.
However, he never assumes to know anything and everything about your causes, your triggers, your contributors; those he lets you tell to him.
He’s always willing to listen, no matter how early in the morning or late into the evening it is; he lends you his ear whenever you need it.
He tries to take time off work whenever he knows he can so he can be with you. Especially if you’ve encountered a rough patch and have asked him for help.
If you choose to pursue professional mental help, he’ll come with you if you want him to – hold your hand for as long as you want, speak for you if you’re finding that words are escaping you and you want his help.
There’s nothing this guy won’t do for you.
Not that there wasn’t already, but now he does it even quicker.
Brings you a healthy snack whenever he knows you need or want one.
He partakes in new hobbies with you when your usual ones just don’t cut it.
Colouring, crocheting, antique collecting, drawing, writing – he’ll gladly follow you down any path you take.
He brings you things he thinks may help you feel better, if only for a minute.
Whenever you need a change of scenery, he takes you on a “Magical mystery tour !” (bundles you into the car and drives to wherever your hearts take you).
He tries to pick locations he knows are scenic – ones which are calming and not too densely populated.
The days where you want to be around people – humanity – he brings you to the park, lays a blanket down for you and people watches with you the whole day.
At the end of the day, he won’t stop until you’re feeling better, be it by one percent or a hundred; any progress is monumental, in his eyes.
And he congratulates all your little victories with your favourite treats and days out of town – the country, even, when you’re feeling up to it.
He loves you so much, it’s unreal; he just can’t believe how lucky he is to have you in his life.
And he makes sure to let you know, whether through gestures or just telling you, every single day.
And he hopes that, even if you don’t believe it now, one day you’ll see yourself how he sees you.
The perfect human being.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist
AO3 Wattpad
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monzabee · 1 year
Text
girl crush – dr3
masterlist || part 2 ||
Summary: The one where both you and Daniel meet your celebrity crushes in the course of a weekend, and decide to give it a go. 
Pairing: daniel ricciardo x actress!reader
Word Count: 4522
Warnings: fluff, shy daniel, shy reader, max being a menace (we love you max), awkwardness, 2023 australian gp, oscars (i love you Jamie Lee Curtis, you rock), slight age gap? (the reader is around the same age as Max)
Request: this is a long one besties, but you can read the request here! + “Hello! Can I please request nepo!reader who's an actress and maybe has an oscar or something? Maybe with Lewis or Daniel”
Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! this title changed so many times i lost track, but at the end, i went with the song – mainly because harry styles. i don’t know what’s wrong with me but this was very hard to write because i had BIG plans for it, so i’m sorry it took a while for me to finish it. also, i listened to a lot of la la land for some reason, so here you go. i hope i did it justice, and this was definitely very fun to write and i had a great time writing it, so thank you, to the anons, for the request, i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 
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Growing up with parents who were obsessed with Formula One had finally taken its toll on you, you decide as you walk towards the Red Bull Hospitality. Your father’s sudden retirement from acting, combined with your mother’s stubborn personality is the reason why you suddenly find yourself at the 2023 Australian Grand Prix. You don’t really know why they didn’t wait for the one in Miami, or perhaps Las Vegas, since their primary residence is in the US, but you had no choice but to join them when they pulled out the ‘We’re getting old’ card. So there you are, after 15 hours of flying over the Pacific Ocean, in Melbourne and ready to enjoy the racing weekend. Or so you think – because you spend the entirety of Friday catching up on lost sleep while cursing every single time your parents decide to call you to let you know how much of a great time they’re having. 
In the end, you get ready Saturday morning, to get breakfast with your parents before leaving for Albert Park. Just as you’re about to leave your room, your eyes fall on a familiar hat, adorned with a certain number, and you put it on your head without giving it a second thought. Your parents don’t comment on your choice of merchandise even if they find it odd, which is good, you think, because you don’t particularly want to hear your father tease you over your “teenage crush”.  The whole paddock is buzzing by the time you get there, and you immediately feel guilty because you missed the practice sessions the previous day. You quickly lose your parents to the crowd around you, too busy looking at the action around you, when you hear your name being called from somewhere. You look around trying to find the source of the voice, when you find a familiar face which makes you smile. 
“Oh my god, what are you doing here?” You ask, quickly pulling Samira for a hug, who in return points to the camera. 
“Weekend job, babe.” She laughs. “I’ve interviewed your father just a couple of minutes ago, actually.” 
“Oh no,” You laugh and shake your head. “Did he tell you about his petunias?” “He did, indeed.” Samira nods and hands you one of the microphones in her hand. “Are you up for a quick interview?” She asks you as she gives you an innocent smile. 
You nod while letting out a chuckle. “Well, someone has to save your viewers from my father’s garden talk, so why not?” 
“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Samira tells you, her words coming of a bit slurred because of the way she talks too fast. She then turns to the camera after making sure that your mic is working. “Welcome back to the second day of the Australian Grand Prix, I’m here with Y/N Y/LN, whose father we just spoke to; Y/N, is this a family day out, or what?” 
“This is definitely a family day out, Samira.” You laugh, nodding to strengthen your point. “Not a very usual one, we usually prefer to stay a bit more local for the weekend outings, but you never know where we’ll be next, I guess.” 
“By ‘local’, do you mean the Oscars, perhaps? I mean, can we talk about your win for a moment? How does it feel to be the receiver of the award for the Actress in a Supporting Role?” 
You take a deep breath as you feel your smile widen, as you can’t even try to hide your happiness. “It feels amazing, let me tell you. It was an amazing opportunity and I can’t thank enough to the lovely director and everyone who made the movie possible.” Samira nods with a satisfied look on her face as you answer. “Congratulations once again for your win. I have to ask, big Red Bull fan?” She asks you in a teasing voice.
“What?” You asked, confused. Only to realise the hat sitting on your head when she points to it with a silent chuckle. You let out a laugh while instinctively touching the hat on your head. “Oh god, you could say so, I guess; yeah.” 
“I mean, I have to comment on the obvious part here.” She points to the hat while shooting the camera a look. “Number 3? You do realise the changes in the grid, don’t you?” 
You laugh at her teasing voice, shrugging and smiling with an innocent look. “What can I say, I like to avoid the reality and live in my delusions.” After a few more teasing from Samira, you explain with a laugh, “No jokes, though, I honestly hope Daniel Ricciardo returns to Red Bull somehow because I don’t know how I’ll cope without him for another season.” 
“A big Danny Ric fan, then, I presume?” Samira asks, pointedly. 
“Oh yeah, been for a while now.”
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After you’re done with your interview and bid adieu to Samira, who thanks you a dozen times more, you find your parents at the Red Bull hospitality, speaking with none other than Christian Horner himself, accompanied by Max. It’s a slightly awkward transition when you join their conversation, but it passes quickly. It doesn’t take long for your parents to be involved with their own conversation with the team principle, and for you and Max to speak amongst yourselves. Although you ask him every single question that comes to your mind about racing, whether it makes sense or not, and he answers each of them without discouraging you. 
He pulls a funny face when he realises your choice of merch, pointing to your hat with a mischievous smile on his face. “Interesting choice, I would have gone with Checo.” 
You roll your eyes and huff, taking your hat in the process. “You’re just jealous because it’s not your number, Max.” 
“You wanna try that again?” Max raises his eyebrows. 
“So what if I’m wearing his number?” You ask, arms crossed over your chest. “He’s a very good driver.”
“Who is not driving this seaso– Ow! Stop it!” Max exclaims as you hit his arm repeatedly in an attempt to stop him talking. “I hope you’re just as charming when you meet him.”
You pull a face while asking, “What do you mean ‘when I meet him’?”
He gives you an unamused look. “You’re either a very good actress, or you are very bad at checking your social media.” His eyes widen when you match his look, which tells him everything he needs to know. “You know he’s around, right? He’s shooting promo stuff, I think.” 
“What do you mean he’s around?” You shriek in an attempt to hide your hat, as if Daniel is actually around to see it. 
“Yeah, wait, let me call him.” He takes out his phone and quickly dials him before you have the opportunity to tell him not to do that, but he quickly shoves his phone back into his pocket when he spots someone familiar over your shoulder and waves them over. 
Your eyes widen as you hiss, “You’re the worst, you know that?” 
He winks at you a playfully in return, “Don’t forget to invite me to your wedding.” Then, he shakes the hand of the driver, who finally makes his way to both of you, and pulls him into what you can only describe as a ‘bro hug’. “Hello, man.” 
“Hello, mate.” Daniel greets him back. His eyes widen in recognition when he catches your eyes over Max’s shoulder, and he side-steps to shake your hand with excitement, which only makes you clutch the hat closer to your chest. “Hello, you’re Y/N Y/LN. Oh my god, I’m a big fan!” 
“M-me too!” You manage to get out, and then quickly add, “A big fan of you, not myself. That would be very egotistical of me.” You inhale a sharp breath as you ignore the look Max gives you, and close your eyes for a moment before opening them again. “Please ignore that, I think the jet lag is finally catching up with my brain.” 
“Sure, we’ll call it the jet lag.” Max mumbles, which earns him a hit with your elbow in his ribs. “Ow!” 
“I’m this close to switching teams and supporting Mercedes instead.” You lift your hand to show the minimal space you’ve left between your thumb and pointer-finger. 
“I think I should take over, here before you drive her away, Max.” He jokingly shakes his hand in a motion to make him go away, and then turns you with a warm smile as Max leaves the two of you to join some of the engineers nearby. “Now, should we get you a Red Bull?”
Talking to Daniel is very easy, you realise quickly. Once you (both) get over your shyness, the conversation just flows in a way you’re not used to. He, too, answers any questions you might have like Max did, but the look in his eyes are different when you show interest in something he’s particularly passionate about. He asks you about receiving your first Oscar, and you ask him about how his wine business is going – which ends up with him promising to send a few bottles over so that you can give it your stamp of approval; you both decide that your review is going be on the back of the bottles. 
“But doesn’t it get into your eyes when you’re spraying it?” You ask him, trying to comprehend how the champagne they spray doesn’t go everywhere. “And doesn’t it burn? It has alcohol, and… bubbles.”
“You might be onto something here.” He mumbles in thought, thinking whether the champagne burned his eyes or not. “Occupational hazard?” He asks in an uncertain voice, hoping it satisfies your question as an answer. 
“Oh, right.” You nod, taking another sip from the can he got you. “It’s crazy, you’ve won like what? 8 races? That’s crazy, you’re crazy.” The way you keep saying whatever comes to your mind makes Daniel smile as the energy you’re feeling taking over your body for the time being. “Wow, I’ve never felt like this, is this what energy drinks do to you?” 
“Probably why you shouldn’t drink too much.” He agrees.
“Sorry.” You smile apologetically, suddenly very aware of the fact that you are, in fact, rattling nonsense in front of your biggest celebrity crush. “You must think I’m crazy, and I shouldn’t be holding you back. I’m sure you have better things to do.”
Daniel is panicking inside when you start to get up, his mind scrambling up words to find a way to make you stay – he feels like a kid who’s asking his parents to let him play for a little longer. It’s not that he is not a social person, he is, but the conversation the two of you share is one of the most meaningful ones to him, even though you’re not actually talking about anything that deep. But he realises there is no pretences with you, no expectations, nothing to hide. He enjoys the way you speak what’s on your mind, whether it might be complimentary or the opposite, but he enjoys how you present your opinion and why you have it. He knows he’s extremely starstruck at that very moment, god knows he’s met enough famous people to know what it feels like, but it’s the kind of starstruck that makes him want to be not shy about it. He wants to keep talking to you for as long as you can tolerate him, because in his mind, he might be the one who is butchering the whole conversation up just by shutting up and succumbing to his shyness. He’s hyperaware of the fact that he has held himself back over the past hour, just because he was thinking about the fact that your hair is looking very shiny under the Australian sun and it is his number on your hat. It’s not something the two of you talked about, yet, but when he realises that it is his number on it, there is this inexplicable pride surging over him.
So, with his entire courage, he says, “Stay.” He clears his throat to buy himself some time to think of something else to say. “I mean, I don’t have anything else I need to do, and it’s very nice to talk to you. So, you know, if you want to, we could maybe, I don’t know, continue to talk?”
“Oh.” You let out a breath, eyes wide with excitement (and a little bit of apprehension), but despite all the nervousness you’re feeling, you find yourself back in your seat, and mumbling. “Of course, it’s very nice to speak with you too.” 
And so you find yourself immersed in another conversation with the Aussie seated across from you. He is open about the past year – which as a fan you’re dying to know what happened, but don’t want to question him because he is only human after all. But for some reason, it comes naturally to talk about his pseudo-retirement with you. He tells you about his plans for the year, and how he hopes to get back to a seat by the start of the next season. In return, you tell him about the time how you almost stopped acting, but the last project you gave a change brought you an Oscar. It’s a much deeper conversation than before, but somehow you find yourself talking without feeling nervous to do so – without any second thoughts. 
“I, uh, I like your hat.” He smiles nervously, pointing to the discarded hat on your lap. 
You laugh nervously as your fingers occupy themselves with the visor of the cap. “Thanks, it’s my favourite.” 
“Yeah?” The question that leaves his mouth is so soft that you think you would miss it if your eyes weren’t so focused on him. 
“Oh, yeah.” You assure him with a little shrug. “Much better than orange, let me tell you, I look hideous in orange.” 
A large smile finds its way onto your lips when he lets out a hearty laugh, shaking his head. “I somehow find it impossible to believe.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re flirting with me, Daniel.” You tease, causing him to smirk back at you. He doesn’t answer you, but instead looks at you with a very particular look which confirms what you’ve just said. Your small stare-down is sadly broken apart by Max, who calls out Daniel’s name to let him know that Christian is looking for him. 
There is a sad look in his eyes when he realises that he has to go for real this time, but you give him a sad smile as you let him know you’ll be watching the screens for him during the quali. As you feel the wind breezing around you, you instinctively wrap your arms around your middle to get rid of the shiver the colder air provides. A look of recognition passes through Daniel’s face as he asks, “Are you cold?”
“A little, but it’s oka–”
“I’ll be right back.” Daniel announces as he leaves you and Max, causing the latter to turn to you with his phone in his hand. Max lets out a deep sigh, mumbling something under his breath in a language you don’t recognise, most likely Dutch. 
“What are you doing?” You ask him, head tilted to the side to try and see what he’s looking at on his phone. He turns it to you after a while, apparently finding what he was looking for. “What’s that?” You ask, pointing to the phone which displays a paused video of Daniel sitting in a chair. 
“He’ll probably kill me once he realises I’ve made you watch this, but the way the two of you looking at each other like lovesick puppies is making me nauseous.” He points to the phone with his head. “Play it.”
You give him a sceptical look, but do as he says and press the little triangle in the middle of the screen. The interview starts to play, and Daniel is talking about racing and the ongoing season. You let the video play for a while before looking up at Max again, more confused. “What am I supposed to see?” 
“For fuck’s sake.” Max groans, taking his phone out of your hand and fast-forwarding the video to find what he’s looking for. “Here.” 
You press play on the video once again, but this time it starts with the interviewer asking Daniel about his celebrity crush. While he’s thinking about his answer in the video, you throw an unamused look at Max, who urges you to direct your attention back to the video. Just as you move your eyes back onto the screen, his answer echoes through the phone speakers which makes your eyes widen. “What?” You ask Max as you scramble to play back the section of the interview. 
“So, any celebrity crushes we should be keeping our eyes out for?” The interviewer asks, out of frame. 
There is a thoughtful look on his face as he thinks about his answer and once he decides, there is a smile breaking on his face. “I mean, probably Y/N Y/LN. I’ve watched everything she’s in, probably multiple times, she’s just so talented.” 
You watch that particular part of the video back a couple of times before Max takes his phone out of your hands with a look asking if you’re okay. “When was this?” 
“I don’t know,” He shrugs. “A couple of years back, but I don’t think his answer has changed over the years.”
You blink a couple of times, trying to digest the fact that your celebrity crush also named you as his celebrity crush. “Oh, wow.” 
Daniel returns a few moments later with a hoodie in his hands. He smiles at you warmly as he hands it to you. “Here, that should help.” 
“Oh, Daniel, you didn’t have to.” You breath out, taking the hoodie out of his hand and putting it on with his help when he gives you a look that says he won’t accept it back. After you fix the oversized hoodie on you, you turn to him with a smile as you also put on the hat on your head. 
The smile he gives you in return when he sees you in his number and merch fills your stomach with butterflies, and Max must be feeling weird about being a part of the scene because he lets Daniel know that he’ll wait at the garage. As Max leaves, Daniel turns back at you with a sad smile on his face. “I really don’t wanna leave, but–”
“You have a job to do, Daniel.” You smile with an understanding, putting an encouraging hand on his forearm. “Although I would love to keep you to myself, I’m sure there are fans out in the world who would love to see you back as much as I do.” 
He lets out a small groan. “Please tell me you’ll be here tomorrow as well.” 
“Well, I came all this way to watch the race too, so I’ll probably be around.” You tease him. 
“So I’ll see you tomorrow?” He asks you in a hopeful voice.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” You affirm. 
After a final look, both of start walking in different directions. And just as you’re about to leave the hospitality, you hear him call out your name. When you turn to look at him over your shoulder you hear him yell, “My number looks good on you.” 
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In retrospect, you wanted to arrive earlier to find a certain driver, but you couldn’t sleep last night because you couldn’t stop thinking about the day’s events. So when you wake up later than your alarm Sunday morning, you rush to get ready to leave your hotel room. By the time you arrive at Albert Park, it’s almost noon. You’re not late to see the race, there is still couple of hours until the big event, but your eyes look around the chaotic hospitality to spot Daniel. You can see a few familiar faces, some engineers you met yesterday and the drivers talking to some crew members near the garage, but there is a small frown on your face as you keep looking for the Australian driver. You’re about to give up when, suddenly, you feel someone grabbing your arm – which makes you jump back with a shriek. 
“You scared me!” You exclaim, looking at the stranger who, thankfully, lets go of your arm after your outburst. “Sorry, can I help you?” 
“Sorry! I thought you were lost and looking for your boyfriend.” They respond, pointing towards the garages. “I saw him enter a few minutes ago.” 
“I don’t have a–” You start the say, but the person is already starting to walk away to the opposite direction. “Boyfriend.” You sigh, deciding to take the advice and see if Daniel might be at the garage after all.
If you thought there was a chaos outside the garage, you’re greatly wrong, because the only word you can use to describe the Red Bull garage is chaotic. There are crew members everywhere, trying to get the cars ready for the upcoming race. So, you do your best to slip through them without disturbing their work. Some of the members you met yesterday greet you, which makes you smile as you greet them back. You catch a familiar set of eyes, which lose the boredom in them and widen with recognition once they meet yours and he starts walking towards you.
He's beaming by the time he reaches you, as he exclaims, “You’re here!” 
“Hi!” You greet him and then pull him for a quick hug.  
“I’m glad you made it, Y/N.” He smiles down at you, without letting you go, and then gestures around the garage. “Have you looked around?” 
You nod, matching his smile as you look up at him, “A little bit when I came in, it’s crazy out there today?” 
He lets out an affirmative voice. “It’s always like that during a race day. Where are you watching the race from?” 
“The Paddock Club, I think?” You answer him with a small frown. “We watched the quali from there yesterday.” 
He pulls away from you slowly, and begrudgingly, holding your hand and starts to pull you away from the entrance. “I have a better idea.” He walks you towards the front of the garage, stopping right in front of the barriers and asking a crew member for a headset. 
There is a playful smile on his face when he turns to you with them in his hands, which makes your eyes widen with concern. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to be here?” 
He waves his hand, passing the headset to you as he assures, “Of course, it’s the best seat in the house. Plus, it’ll be easier for us to find each other.” 
“You’ve thought this through, haven’t you?” You ask him as you do your best to narrow your eyes. 
“Absolutely, yes.” He nods with excitement. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re kind of my celebrity crush.” 
You giggle in response. “Oh, I know. Max made me watch a video.” 
“He– what?”
“It was a lovely compliment.” You assure him, patting his arm with a sympathetic smile. 
“I’m going to kill–” He begins to say, but one of the engineers call out his name, telling him that they need him before the race. He turns to you with a groan, jumping over the barriers instead of going through the door, which makes you chuckle, and points to you while walking backwards. “We have to talk about this.” 
“We will.” You assure him. Just as you watch him walk by, you call out, “Daniel!”
“Yeah?” He calls back at you. 
“You’re my celebrity crush, too.” 
Instead of answering he winks at you over his shoulder, which makes you giggle. You’re sure that you’re also blushing, but decide not to think about it too much and focus on the race which is starting. You’re on the edge of your seat the entire time, from the start to the second restart to the end. The people around you are not much different, everybody holding their breaths every time one of the cars make a sharp turn. You let out an occasional gasp, or wince throughout the entire race, your hands covering your shocked expression. But, at the end, you’re happy to see that Max is P1 and Checo managed to finish the race in P5. Everyone around you seems to be sharing your opinions, since they are celebrating the good results when you take off your headset. 
Daniel finds you eventually, after speaking with some of the engineers and pit crew, and there is a huge smile on his face as he asks, “So, how’d you like it?” 
“Are you kidding me? It was insane!” You exclaim, using your hands to relay your point. “Eight cars, Daniel, eight cars! That’s crazy!” 
“I get you’ve liked it?” He asks, his eyebrows raising. 
You let out a scoff while shaking your head. “Of course I liked it!” 
“I’m glad you liked it, Y/N.” He smiles, “So, I’m your celebrity crush, huh?”
“Oh please, you already knew it!” You roll your eyes at his smug expression. “I’m wearing your number, aren’t I?”
He shrugs, letting his hands occupy themselves with the end of the hoodie you’re wearing. “And it looks good on you.” He tilts his head to get a better look at your eyes as he asks, “You’re wearing it again today? Isn’t it some sort of fashion crime in Hollywood?”
“Well, I’ve never fit in much anyway.” You shrug, letting a smirk break at your lips. “It might just become my favourite item of clothing, just so you know.” 
“Yeah? I’m happy to hear that.” 
“You should be, I’m very particular about my hoodies.”
He smiles at your comment, but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes for some reason. “When is your flight back?”
“Tuesday.” You answer him, suddenly very aware of the fact that you don’t have much time left in Melbourne at all. “But I can be convinced to stay for longer.” 
His eyes widen with surprise, excitement taking over the sad look in record time. “You can? Really?” You nod your head, which makes him pull you closer to him with the hand still holding your hoodie. “Let me take you out on a date.” His eyes seem to beg. 
You nod your head once again, tilting your head backwards to keep your gaze locked to his. “Yeah, I’d like that.” 
“Yes? Are you sure? It’s the point of no return.” There is a playful tone to his voice. 
You roll your eyes, taking off your cap and placing it onto his head. “I’m sure I’ll be fine, ‘honey badger’.” You tease. “Who knows? You might just convince me to say a while longer.” 
“Yeah, I’d like that, too.” He echoes your words from earlier. 
2K notes · View notes
sourholland · 5 days
Text
Guilty as Sin
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CHAPTER ONE ; azriel x fem!reader
summary: the lost princess of the dawn court finds herself brazenly escaping her own personal living hell. seeking refuge, as well as peace to plot in the city of velaris—she meets azriel shadowsinger and through the throws of disdain and discomfort they are forced to work side by side, intertwined through their shared scars.
a/n: ok so this first chapter is literally all exposition and world building within this world, i’m so sorry :( i promise that it will very much so pick up. this series is mainly about me exploring different aspects of my writing, i’ve never written a long series before. my longest is 50k and each chapter was about 2k words so this is something i feel really proud to put out, even if it is just the first chapter. if you’d like to be tagged please let me know!! this fic isn’t necessarily inspired by, but is a lot like taylor swift’s new song “guilty as sin?”. feedback always appreciated:)
warnings: strong language, mentions of trauma regarding men, heavy themes of ptsd and suicidal thoughts
spotify playlist (unfinished)
wc: 5.4k
Run.
The word cut through your mind, slicing through each and every thought you possessed as you gazed downwards at your bloodied hands. There was so much blood. Hot, thick blood ran down your forearms, coating your face and the inside of your mouth. Your stomach lurched, however by the grace of the Gods, you fled.
In over fifty years, you had not left this camp. Since you were just a girl, at twelve years old, you had resided within the hidden stone of the warrior camp. Now you had no choice but to utter a quick prayer to the Mother and run fast and furiously forward without looking back. Only the knife you had just used remained sheathed at your hip as you felt the ground beneath your boot-clad feet. There was a cloak pulled around you, it covered your face well and kept you concealed. 
What was that saying, you thought silently to yourself in between painful dry heaves. ‘Feet don’t fail me now.’
It was nightfall and you ran tirelessly through the forest you had been warned to never brave on your own. As a child, your mother had warned that you must not meet what lurks after dark. She told you that not even those beasts would mind slaying the Princess of the Dawn Court. To them, the title was useless and your blood was just the same. Blood. You reeked of those warriors' blood and sweat and desperation. It was clad to your skin like a layer of oil or grime, the taste of iron making you spit. 
A part of you wondered if you would die out in this forest, no idea where you were or what place Cousin Thesan had brought you so many decades ago. Stopping to lean against a tree, you panted and let the silent tears flow at once. Where were you? For all you knew, he had dropped you within the Continents and only used very good wards to keep the camp hidden. Why had you let them take you? What hadn’t you fought harder against Thesan’s word as Amarantha began exercising power among Prythian.
You had no answer, but only began to run once again. There was no choice, unless you planned to slit your own throat and simply give up. No. You are a warrior, you are a fighter and nothing would keep you from finding your cousin and demanding answers for his crimes. That’s what his actions were to you, criminal and inhumane and you would not be surprised if in the end–you adorned his blood on your hands as well. 
“Who dares enter this part of my forest?” A voice drawled from nowhere in particular, causing you to flinch and raise the dagger shakily in defense. “What is your name, girl?”
The voice came from the trees, you swore to yourself. It came in whisps and wind, the blackness of the forest making it impossible for you to determine where exactly the source was. If there was a source. It omitted what you swore was a chuckle, an unfamiliar sound to you for so long. Sweat collected at the nape of your neck and temples, hair stuck down to your forehead and your skin blazed as you continued to rotate in full circles with your dagger pointed at nothing.
“Y/N, Princess of Dawn and Bringer of Light. What is your business in dwelling here? This is no place for a young Fae girl. Especially one so sweet as yourself, and you wear the blood of ten men. It is as if you hope to die tonight,” the voice whispered, a hot, invisible breath on your neck. “Do you hope to die tonight?”
“No,” you finally spoke into the abyss. “I hope to locate my homelands, I am in search of the High Lord of the Dawn Court. Show yourself.”
The voice ignored your demand, “leave this forest, Princess. For the ones hunting you are far worse than those warriors you slaughtered miles back.”
The stiff cloth of your dress began to itch beneath your robes and you stood taller than before as the voice surrounded you. Perhaps you would die tonight, at least you would have gone out thrashing and fighting until your final breath. There was a mild ache behind your brow and the night sky showed no signs of daybreak.
“And why have you refrained from killing me?” You finally asked, shifting back and forth and contemplating whether or not to begin running again. 
“I possess no body. I am nothing but the wind and the trees and the breeze against your skin,” it hummed, cynically. “Cross the river up ahead and veer left, the path will lead you out of the forest and into the countryside where at least you will not be hunted for sport and strewn up and cut open for the creatures that dwell here to eat you alive.”
A cold chill ran up your spine and left your fingers to form fists.The spirit-like being was gone as fast as it had stumbled upon you. How did you know, you wondered idly for a moment. Its presence was absent, the air feeling more desolate and empty than it had moments before. It could very well be a trick, a way to lure you into its very trap and do exactly as it said.
You continued on to the river and went left, just as the being had told you to, as it had cooed into the shell of your ear. It was only about a mile later and you were coming into a dark clearing where animals lay sleeping along large acres of land. There were cows and sheeps first, then you saw pens of pigs and chicken coops further. Looking back, you saw how truly terrifying the forest was in comparison to the moonlit field.There were a set of yellow eyes staring out at you, but as soon as you blinked they were gone as if they were never there to begin with. While you knew you would never know, you threw a prayer up to the Mother regardless and hoped that the breeze-like thing that had most likely saved your life was at peace.
There was very little you could do besides walk along the outskirts of the land and hope to find some inclination of where to locate your court. Your court. The Dawn Court was filled with your people, people who had not seen you in five decades. The memories of your childhood were like knives in your gut, twisting and turning until finally you expelled them from your mind and breathed in deeply. The trek was long and you walked all through the night with no direction of where to go or what to do with yourself. There were not exactly any signs pointing you towards your home, or once home. Now you had no home, the camp was much more like a prison than a home to you. 
“Are you lost?” A little Fae girl spoke, taking in your appearance as she found you still walking along the countryside that next morning. She did not appear to be scared, however she was very young and held a basket of wildflowers in her hand.
“Yes,” you almost cried at the sight of her, another human and a female at that. It had been fifty three years since you had encountered someone of the same sex. “Where am I?”
“I live just beyond that hill. You are in the Dawn Court,” she said wearily, pointing over and beyond the hill that sat a few hundred yards away. “Should I fetch my father to help you?”
“No,” you said, knowing well what you had done the night prior and how you appeared. “I am looking to get to the Dawn Court Palace, do you know where I might be able to find it?”
The girl, no more than nine, looked over you once again and it was as if she was assessing your soul. She drew her lips into a fine line and set the basket down to begin spouting off some directions. You nodded, taking in all of them with careful consideration and noting that the spirit had led you onto the right track for some odd reason. Once the girl had finished, she merely bowed her head and turned back towards her house. 
.·:*¨☆◦✦◦☆¨*:·.
The Palace was nothing like you had remembered it. It was so much brighter and broader than you recalled within the narrow escape of your child-mind. The Dawn Court Palace gleamed under the beaming sun that had been burning your skin for hours as you followed the little girl’s instructions. 
It was so vast and yet it seemed to call out to you, there was a long way to get to even one of the many stairs leading up to the Palace and so many guards standing tall at every entrance you could see. There was no way in, you thought. Not when you look as you do. Would any of these men even know who you are, you wondered. 
“Who goes there?” A loud voice bellowed, bringing you away from your thoughts.
Who says who goes there, you thought. Prick.
Well it looks like Cousin Thesan spared no expense in making sure no one went in unnoticed, you rolled your eyes internally and spun on your heels to meet the look of the brooding male who wielded his weapon against you. He did not recognize you, as you had expected. His eyebrow had a long scar going through it and he held a blade in his hand, waiting for an explanation.
“Stand down!” You matched his tone, standing tall while the male practically laughed in your face.
“You are lucky that I have not already gutted you for crossing into our territory–”
The sound of you swallowing hard could be heard from even where he stood. You planted your feet and let all of those lessons on looking the part of royalty run over you. The guard was cut off by your sharp and fierce voice, “I am Y/N, Princess of Dawn! Stand down or don’t. I can’t say that I really care either way, but you very well might when I cut out your tongue and feed it back down your throat.”
The man went rigid for a moment and he took in a sharp breath. He seemed to be assessing you, his eyes scanned your frame while his weapon remained as it was. A part of you wondered if he thought you were bluffing, however the dried blood seemed to tell him everything he needed to know. He maintained his authoritative stance, only drawing back to call over some of his men. He whispered something into one male’s ear and his face went blanche. He looked over you with such careful consideration and shock, his eyes wide open and doe-like from where you stood.
“You claim to be the Lost Princess?” He finally spoke, tilting his head to the side to expose a long, fleshy scar across his neck.
“Well the last that I checked–I am the only Princess of the Dawn Court, however I am most certainly not lost, sir. I do wish to speak to my cousin, though,” you requested, earnestly. “As soon as possible.”
The Lost Fucking Princess. Who even comes up with this bullshit?
One of the males who adorned guard-like clothing brought you into the Palace wearily. He did not lay a hand on you, but motioned you to walk in front of him as if you posed some sort of threat. Perhaps you did, killing Thesan had crossed your mind once or twice. The idea of watching him writhe excited you quite a bit. The thought nearly brought a smile to your lips, only managing to suppress it when you began climbing the steps.
.·:*¨☆◦✦◦☆¨*:·.
The male brought you to a throne room, sunlight dancing along the walls and spilling onto the floors. Everything was so magnificent, the aura of the room was nothing short of golden. Blood boiled within you as you recalled all of the years you had wasted away to nothing, hidden in that rotting, despicable camp where all you ate was leftover meat scraps and watered-down soup for over fifty years. 
Thesan sat at the forefront of the room, he wore a crown and spoke to the male at his right in a hushed whisper. It was almost as if he did not know you were here, like he was uninformed of your arrival in his court. When the male who brought you in nearly tripped over his feet to murmur into Thesan’s ear, you had your answer. Your cousin’s eyes snapped towards you in an instant, he rose to his feet immediately and you swore you could feel the blood pumping in your ears. With a hot face and white knuckles, you barreled towards him with the intent to kill.
“You promised me! You promised me!” Your magic rippled across the room as you shouted, pure rage causing the ground to shake. “You left me there to rot like vermin! How could you?”
With tunnel vision, the two men who had been holding you back were nearly invisible as the ground continued to shake violently. Thesan was silent, his eyes were wide with genuine revelation and disbelief. Thrashing and clawing and screaming was all you could do. He had taken years from you, good years that had been ripped away and stolen from you as a child.
“You’re nothing but a fucking liar, Thesan. We share blood! I am your family and you threw me out to the wolves. I was twelve years old and you abandoned me. I trusted you with my life. My life!” you cried and flinched at the guards’ hands. “Get your fucking hands off of me!”
The two men who held you were sent flying backwards by an invisible force, your magic had been provoked and was now rippling off of you in waves. Thesan approached with his hands out, he still had not spoken a word. With a wave, he cleared the room and it was only the two of you left standing.
“Y/N,” he said in a soft hush. “Please just allow me to explain–”
“Explain? Explain how you brought me to your sick fucking camp when I was a girl and lied to everyone under the guise of my protection? Explain how after three months, your letters and visits stopped? Oh, perhaps you plan to explain how you left me to live with ten cursed warriors for over five decades and I have to find out six days ago that Amarantha was defeated by a human girl years ago as I still sat by idly waiting for my dear Cousin Thesan to retrieve me from my own personal living hell?” The words were like knives, piercing Thesan one after another as you resisted the urge to rip out his throat. “Explain, go ahead.”
Thesan could not believe his eyes, nor the venom spewing from your lips. He surveyed your too-thin figure and cold eyes, how they had changed so much since he had last seen you as a small girl. Everything you said was true, to some degree. He could not deny any of it, however he had not realized how the camp had treated you. He had not banished you, but relocated you for reasons of his own before Amarantha could rise to full power. When Thesan caught word of what had begun under the mountain, he made rash decisions and sacrifices that he was not proud of and would have to live with for the rest of his immortal life.
“Y/N, I did send you away for your protection. Do you believe that my brother would have let me live if I sent his only child away to live in squalor while we all reside in a palace? I sent you away because my people were being ripped from their homes and your mere existence puts a target on your back,” he said, steadily. “A Princess, the sole heir to the Dawn Court. It is unheard of. When my brother’s mate–your mother–birthed a girl, our people were ecstatic. As years passed and Amarantha began her show of power, everyone grew antsy for my heir. I tried, I remain trying to produce an heir to this court.”
You shook your head, hot tears running down your dirt-crusted cheeks. “Not good enough,” your voice cracked.
“Please, just hear my words,” he begged you. “When you were twelve years old, I assumed tensions were at their height and our people grew restless. Amarantha had begun slaughtering innocent Fae across Prythian and with no heir, whispers surfaced of the Princess of the Dawn Court. A female heir, one who reeked of power at that. Males who would never kneel before a female began to place bounties on your head, terrified that I would be slayed and there would be no one but you to resume my place.”
Thesan breathed deep, but continued. “I told my brother that the safest option would be to make you disappear. We would claim that you were hunted by Amarantha’s loyal subjects, nowhere to be found. I gathered some of my strongest men who had committed wrongdoings within my court and banished them to the camp where they would be tied until I liberated you.”
“You locked me away with criminals!” You seethed, already knowing but surprised at his willingness to utter the words freely. “How do you think your filthy, touch-starved, vile men acted once I had first bled?”
“This is where I have committed wrong,” he whispered. “It was only supposed to be a year, maybe two while I gained footing and figured out a way to take back what Amarantha had stolen from me. Three months after I sent you away, she captured the entirety of this court. Every court, save for Spring, went Under the Mountain. You were concealed, hidden so well by my wards, that she never even bothered to go looking for you. She believed that her own subjects had killed and discarded you. That was the extent at which things had gotten, she merely trusted the death of the Princess of the Dawn Court was another insignificant casualty to her reign. Everyone believed you to be dead. My letters stopped because I was trapped, my power basically nothing compared to what it once was.”
The truth washed over you slowly, blinking away tears but staying put and shaking your head at him. It was still not good enough, it would never be good enough. For fifty-three years you had known nothing but scraps and gangly men and the dirt underneath your bleeding fingernails. 
“It has been years since Amarantha was defeated,” you gritted out. “Defeated by a human girl–”
“Feyre Cursebreaker, High Lady of the Night Court and human no longer. Myself and the other High Lords used our power to bring her back from death as High Fae,” he told you. “I know you will never forgive me for not retrieving you immediately, however we entered a gruesome war against Hybern and have only just begun to recover and rehabilitate. It is no excuse, I know this. I hoped by now that I would have an heir, nothing has changed in regards to how your existence might be received by this court.”
He had left you there while everyone rejoiced in their freedoms, fought on the frontlines of battle, and then even still once we had won. Nothing but pure, unadulterated rage consumed you and yet all you could muster up was a pathetic noise straight from your throat. He had done all of this because he simply was not capable of bearing a child and assumed that you’re suffering was all the more worth it if he could fuck his way to the ideal future High Lord of Dawn. All men are the same, you thought with a sickness churning within you.
“You are a sick excuse for a man,” was all you spat. “Where are my parents?”
“Dead,” he lowered his head. “They died swiftly, soon after we arrived Under the Mountain.”
The gift that just keeps on giving, you thought whilst holding back a near sob. He gazed upon you with pity, finally taking you in wholly. The blood. There was so much blood and he could tell from the scent that it did not belong solely to you.
“What of the men at the camp?” 
“Dead,” you replied, just as he had. “I cannot say they went swiftly, as I slaughtered them all.”
The images of blood spewing and spilled flashed across the forefront of your mind, the way that some of them went quick and others went begging for a semblance of mercy. You looked down at your palms, flexing your fingers and feeling the energy throughout your entire body. It pulsed at the tips of your fingers, throbbed in the heels of your feet, and thrummed at the backs of your eyes. Over the years, there had been no one to teach you to manage it so more often than not it consumed you whole. 
You could kill him, you let the idea wash over you. Or at least you could try. In his home with all of his warriors, it would prove difficult. He was the High Lord, your High Lord–no, death was too swift and simple. You would need time to plan out your next steps, you pondered whilst maintaining a stone cold facade. You would have to play your cards right, he would deal with you based on how you acted as you stood before him. Truthfully, the idea of living with him puts you on the brink of physical sickness. You would rather die than be forced to stay under the same roof, lips curling slightly with disgust as he gave you another look filled with shame and guilt.
“I will not stay here,” was all you spat at him. “Not here, not in this court with you, I wish to be sent elsewhere.”
“Elsewhere? Do you understand what will come of your sudden return to our lands?” Thesan’s eyes were fixed on you, his voice near hoarse. “Y/N, I know that–”
“I will not stay here. I ask this one thing of you. I will not spread word of your pathetic sterileness, nor my title to the Dawn Court if you will simply offer me this one thing. Do you not owe it to me?” 
While the immense grief and pain in your voice was authentic, you made sure to create the illusion of your complete and utter wreckage. Mustering up tears, you had to get out of this place. There was no possibility of your survival if not, not even at the hands of these so-called people out for your blood–but at the hands of yourself. Every bit of you was exhausted, conveying complete and utter devastation into your eyes as he debated your request. 
Do you not owe it to me?
Thesan rubbed violently at the bridge of his nose and nodded to himself, he squeezed his eyes shut and for a moment you remembered the admiration you once felt for him. Admiration turned into blazing resentment and rage that had nearly created an earthquake. He wouldn’t force you to reside here under him, would he?
“I will do my best at making other… arrangements,” said Thesan after a few moments of tense silence. “I make no promises, as we may very well be approaching the brink of another war, however in the meantime you should wash up.” 
A breath of relief escaped you, “what of the guards who know who I am? I told them.”
“I should like to call in a favor from Rhysand,” he murmured, almost as if he was speaking to himself.
.·:*¨☆◦✦◦☆¨*:·.
“Leave me, please” you said to the servants gently, thanking them for the filled tub and fresh gown that was laid out for you within the spare bedroom and adjacent bathing room.
Everything was so prim and proper and doused in sunlight, it made you nostalgic for a life that once was. The water was steaming, layers of blood and grime covering you as you sunk down into the tub. The magic of the tub was forced to refresh itself almost as soon as you sat, growing murky immediately as you began to scrub your skin raw. 
Would it be easier to drown yourself, you breathed a shallow breath. No, someone was posted outside of the bedroom door listening in. A guard, most likely. He would hear, putting an end to your pathetic excuse of a suicide attempt and then Thesan would never let you leave. Or maybe he would, perhaps your untimely death was just what he hoped for in order to rid himself of the problems you presented him with.
Getting clean felt impossible, even with the tub enchanted to replace its filthy water. Your hair was oily and your skin remained covered in a film of grease. It took over an hour just for you to feel somewhat clean. At the camp, there had thankfully been a tub with running water and an enchantment of certain supplies so you never went without. Food, however, was hunted for you and everyone else. As the only female, every night you received what was left on the bone of whatever animal they had slaughtered in the nearby woods, eating last time and time again. 
One of the servants came in to help you dress in the gown custom to the Dawn Court, it fell to your ankles and glistened with what you could have sworn was pure sunlight. The tall woman braided your hair back and applied rogue to your cheeks and an oil to your lips. As you gazed into the mirror before you, you could hardly recognize yourself for the first time in five decades. There was something so regal about you, a light cascading off of you like an aura of gold. Thesan possessed the same coloring, the light pouring out from him in bouts of power. 
The woman knew who you were, you could tell that much from the way her eyes danced across your reflection. She said nothing, though. You thanked her, smiling softly as if she had not just seen you covered in days old blood and filth. The Lost Princess, you recalled what the male had referred to you as outside. She has no idea what to think of you, it seems. Maybe that was for the best, perhaps you were better as the shadow of a girl who once was but no longer existed. Instead, some sort of killer prowled beneath your now eternally crimson stained skin. 
“The High Lord has called for you,” the woman said softly, pulling you from your thoughts and causing your eyes to drift to meet her gaze in the reflection of the mirror. 
Once you had begun your trek back to the same room as earlier, the sun had begun to fall and the sky was painted endless shades of pink and orange. There was so much open space, all of the windows gaping to allow for as much sunlight as possible during the daytime. You had never felt so exhausted, eyes burning from the lack of sleep you had acquired on your journey and the use of power earlier on in the day. 
When you entered the room, Thesan was in conversation with a man that you could only assume was Rhysand. He was attractive in an almost inconceivable way, like one of the Gods. None of the males at the camp had resembled anything like him, no one in the Dawn Court resembled anything like him. Lucky High Lady, you thought mindlessly. Rhysand seemed to chuckle at nothing, turning to meet your gaze.
“Princess,” he greeted you with the friendly upturning of his lips. “Welcome back from the dead is in order, I suppose. I’m Rhys.”
“Funny,” you huffed a stiff laugh at him and extended a hand for him to grasp. Power ricocheted off of Rhysand in a way that caused your stomach to flip. “Y/N.”
His eyes simmered with something like pity mixed with amusement, he was not blind to the fact that you still had not looked Thesan in his eyes. Rhysand had been steadfast in arriving at the Dawn Court, his solemn look told you that he had been briefed on some of what was going on. How much, though? What had Thesan deemed important enough to share and what was determined as insignificant. Clearly as you had been cast away as insignificant, he could not be trusted to relay information.
“Rhysand has consulted with his High Lady and they have agreed to offer you a place to stay in the Night Court for as long as you should require it,” Thesan informed you. 
“At what cost?” 
“No cost,” Rhysand assured you at once. “Thesan has… told me of your circumstances–”
“What circumstances?” You demanded, cutting him off. “What did he tell you?”
There was a tense silence as you grew flustered and aggravated by your cousin. Thesan knew nothing of your circumstances, he knew absolutely nothing of what you had endured. Rhysand had strangely given you a look of understanding, it was as if he knew exactly what you were thinking. Like he had been inside of your mind, reliving the experiences with you.
“He told me of your power, he told me you have yet to learn how to wield it as well. He says that he senses you may have inherited more than just his healing gifts, but that the nature of your identity is sensitive. I admit that I do have to agree with him in concealing your return, Princess–for now, at least,” Rhyand only looked to you, his words carefully chosen so as not to upset you. “I have a house in Velaris, the city where I live, it houses three people as of late. My two brothers, Azriel and Cassian, and my mate’s sister Nesta. You would stay there, it is secluded enough that you will have as much privacy as you desire. I spoke with my healer Madja, she has agreed to allow you to work under her in an apprenticeship of sorts. She’s one of the best, not just in Velaris but anywhere in Prythian. I feel you both may be able to benefit from each other, her experience and your magic. My cousin Mor has offered to train with you once she arrives home from Vallahan on business, until then one of my brothers–”
You cut him off again, “Training? I do not wish to offend you, but why should I need your family to train me?”
“Y/N,” he began, assessing how honest he should be. “You have no muscle built up whatsoever and considering the fact that you have no hold on your own power–I suspect that your ‘training’ consists of the intent to kill and luck. In Velaris you would learn to fight and hopefully hone some of that power.”
It was this or nothing, you knew that. Either you would remain in the Dawn Court, or you would go with Rhysand and figure it out from there. Thesan’s face was now unreadable as you looked between both of the High Lords. 
“All the while I hide away so that no one knows my true identity?”
“No,” Rhysand responded. “You have matured, when you left this court you were only a girl. No one in Velaris will question you once I dim some of that power coming off of you. My inner circle knows your true identity, however to everyone else you will be ordinary High Fae. This is partially why you’ll work under Madja.”
Nodding slowly, you consider your options or lack thereof. Rhysand seemed genuine enough, you thought to yourself and could have swore he smiled slightly. Giving Thesan a once over, you met those violet eyes and nodded slowly.
“Alright, I’ll go to Velaris.” 
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karinab00bs · 1 month
Note
can i req for a sumin stayc fic!
A Night to Remember
Sumin x named reader! (i hope u dont mind)
tags: smut, sex, nipple play, (semi?) public sex
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”Is this the right road? We’ve been here three times,” Ethan’s words did not sound like a question. The girl who was called just now sighed softly because she didn’t go up the mountain that often. At first, Sumin had refused to join the event for a night of getting closer to each other on the mountain like this because she had no experience. Whether Sumin should be grateful or not because, at least she didn’t get lost alone.
”I don’t know.. This is also my first time.” Sumin could see Ethan’s confused face. Ethan should be able to depend on her being a senior, but unfortunately this time the man who was a year younger than her had to take over.
”Don’t stay away from me; if we get separated, it’s more trouble. I left a trail so that someone could find out that we are here, and please check your cellphone if there is a signal to contact the other student.” Ethan's intonation did not sound patronizing, but Sumin nodded obediently.
The sky was getting darker, darker than usual. Sumin glanced at her watch, and it was still seven o’clock. But somehow it felt like ten already. They should have been resting in the tents by this time and then, half an hour later, gathering around the campfire. But instead, they were lost in the seemingly unfriendly weather.
”Ethan..” called Sumin, and without many words, she held Ethan’s hand, who had just turned his head.
”Your hands are really cold; are you okay? Do you want to use my jacket?” Sumin shook her head slowly. She knew the night was cold, and she didn’t want Ethan to give up the only source of warmth he had for her.
”No, I’m just afraid of getting lost.. Can I hold your hand?” The man nodded, not objecting at all. First, he was also cold; second, Sumin, who was everyone’s crush, was holding his hand. Who would refuse?
”Btw, do you have a tent? I only have a sleeping bag in my backpack because my friend brought a tent.” Sumin had not yet answered. The sound of thunder made the girl jump in place. Ethan approached to hug and calm her. ”It’s okay. I’ve got you,” he whispered softly. But, suddenly, they felt the drops of rain falling; it poured down on the two people, who did not have time to find a place until they were both soaked. Ethan pulled Sumin’s hand under a tree not far from where they were standing just now. It was still raining, but at least the branches and leaves kept them a little protected.
It was cold; Sumin’s whole body was wet from the rain, making her shiver, and she unconsciously heard the chattering of her teeth because it was too cold. Ethan turned to her and held her cold hands, giving them a gentle squeeze and rub to make them at least warmer.
”Ethan, I think the tent is in my backpack. Can you put it on?” Asked Sumin, the man nodded slowly, then unloaded Sumin’s carier. The girl sat huddled against the tree that sheltered them, her body trembling from the cold, making Ethan try his best to be quick in putting up the tent despite the rain that had begun to subside, not as hard as before.
Sumin closed her eyes while trying to hug herself. Then she felt a warm hand on her forehead and then on both cheeks. ”I’m afraid you’re sick; let’s go to the tent. I’ve put up the tent. There’s a sleeping bag, but if you can… ehm… sorry… you can just undress because your clothes is all wet.”
Sumin nodded quickly. ”Thank you, Ethan..” The sentence was replied to with Ethan’s soothing smile, which makes him look more handsome than before.
The rain began to subside, but the drops were still there. Sumin had undone all the threads attached to her body and got into the sleeping bag that Ethan had brought.
Sumin heard a sneeze from outside the tent. Ethan was cold too; she thought, “Ethan..” She called softly, but it was quite audible.
“Why? Your lips are blue for God’s sake.” Without being asked, Ethan entered the tent and helped Sumin lie back down. The man rubbed his palms together and then placed them on Sumin’s neck until warmth spread from there.
Ethan sneezed again, making the girl, who was still shivering, anxious too.
“Ethan.. come here; it’s still cold in here,” Sumin said while holding Ethan’s hand.
“My clothes are all wet; you’ll get cold,” Ethan gently refused.
“Just take off your shirt.” Sumin could see Ethan swallow. “It’s okay.. Come here.”
“If you say so..” Ethan replied that he was actually still full of hesitation, but why not instead of freezing to death?
Sumin bit her lip because she was still shivering, and now, in front of her eyes, she could see Ethan opening one cloth after another on her body. Well, the man was not typical muscular; he was quite skinny because of his height, but he looked proportional. Just look at how the man’s stomach was formed. Damn. Sumin averted her eyes because she didn’t want to look like a pervert.
“Sorry..” Ethan said it again before getting into the sleeping bag. Sumin nodded slowly. Ethan embraced Sumin’s body, which was smaller than his, in a hug. Slowly, Sumin’s felt more warm; she comfortably leaned against Ethan’s broad chest and tried to close her eyes. But suddenly she felt a hard object touching her womanhood. She looked up to look at Ethan’s face, which turned red. “I swear, Sumin, I’m sorry.. It wasn’t on purpose.
“It’s okay.. Maybe because it’s cold,” Sumin replied with red cheeks as well.
“Y-yes.. Obviously.. It was cold, and there was a beautiful naked girl hugging me so.. Sorry..” Sumin buried her face in Ethan’s chest and blushed. “I won’t do anything to you, unless you let me.. So.. If you want me as I want you.. you may.. do something to me.”
Hearing that sentence, Sumin moved and pulled the edge of the sleeping bag up to cover her head. She could hear Ethan laughing and calling her adorable.
Sumin hugged Ethan’s waist again and buried her beautiful face in his neck. There was silence, only gentle strokes on her head and back. Comfortable. Pleasant. But Ethan’s cock is still hard, still standing upright even though Ethan hasn’t spoken for a while, maybe calming down so as not to be carried away by his desire.
Sumin put one leg up around Ethan’s waist, indirectly giving Ethan’s hard cock access to tuck right into her pussy. She could feel Ethan holding his breath.
“Sumin?” called Ethan.
“Mm? It’s cold,” she replied. It was cold, but that wasn’t what Sumin really wanted.
“Do you want to try it?” Not answering, Sumin just gave a small nod, letting Ethan cheer in the day. “I’ll be slow; tell me if you want to stop. I’m not forcing you.”
Feeling he had permission, Ethan’s one hand that had been wrapped around her waist now began to boldly rub Sumin’s thigh and then slowly move her waist up and down, giving a gentle friction to their bodies. Ethan lowered his head to give light kisses on Sumin’s neck and shoulder, then down to her chest and boldly kissed the top of her breast, making Sumin bite her lip while squeezing Ethan’s shoulder. She closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of Ethan’s tongue moving around her cold, hardened nipples, and soon sucked gently. A sigh escaped Sumin’s lips when Ethan did the same to her other nipple, but his suction became stronger there.
“Ethan.. ahhh.. mmm..” Sumin couldn’t hold back her sigh because what Ethan was doing to her body was too much for her; just the suction on the top of her chest was making her wet. Damn it, she cursed.
“May I put my dick in?” There was nothing sweeter than that question, and Sumin nodded slowly. And slowly, Ethan makes Sumin lie down while he is on top of her, making Sumin’s face red because now Ethan is looking at her, not like a starving person but with a smile and then a peck on the lips. Crazy, he looks pro in Sumin’s mind; it seems like it is not his first time, but what the hell, Sumin likes his sweet treatment.
Sumin held her breath as Ethan’s slowly entered her, really slowly, and many times Ethan looked at Sumin’s face to see if she was in pain or not. Finally, with a single jerk, Ethan’s entered, fully fitting Sumin’s pussy.
Moans were heard, but out of embarrassment, Sumin immediately hugged Ethan’s body and hid her face, still too embarrassed to be honest that Ethan really made her feel good.
For God’s sake, Sumin also saw the reddish tinge on Ethan’s face, and soon the man began to move his waist slowly, very slowly, as if it might hurt Sumin. “Does it hurt?" He asked softly. Sumin shook her head. “If it hurts, tell me.” After that sentence, Ethan’s waist movements got faster and faster, making his whole body as well as Sumin's warmer.
“A-ahh… Ethan… nghhh…” Sumin’s moans became more uncontrollable; all her shyness and logic were gone; the only thing left was pleasure because Ethan was now stomping on her right at Sumin’s weakest point until she moaned even more crazily.
“Sumin ahh.. mmhh..” Sumin squeezed Ethan’s back, leaving strokes from her nails.
“Ethan.. again.. anghh…” hearing that Ethan precisely stomped on her favorite spot many times, roughly making Sumin look up with both eyes closed.
The man felt impatient; his movements had begun to be less gentle than before but still did not hurt, so Sumin did not protest much, letting the man warm their bodies with this activity.
Sumin’s legs wrapped around Ethan’s waist until Ethan’s went deeper. Making her womanly walls twitch and massage Ethan’s firmly.
Ethan thrust into her again quickly and deeply, making her moan in pleasure even though her back was covered in scratches. In one last stroke, both of them reached their release simultaneously, accompanied by a groan of relief.
”Ethan..” Sumin whispered amidst her unsteady breathing.
”What’s wrong? Does it hurt?” Ethan asked while rubbing Sumin’s hair and then kissing her lips once. ”Uh.. sorry, I got carried away..”
Sumin smiled, then one hand tucked behind Ethan’s nape and pushed him closer. She could feel Ethan smiling between their kisses. Sweet. Maybe that’s why Sumin kept sucking Ethan’s lower lip as if it were her favorite candy. While Ethan was busy with Sumin’s upper lip, they deepened the kiss.
”I’ll count to 10 if you two don’t come out of the tent, and I’ll report that both of you are committing perversion on the mountain.”
Sumin and Ethan panicked as they both hurriedly picked up clothes that were not fully dry and put them back on, while in the front, Sieun’s voice was heard counting to five.
”Nine… ten. Come out, or I’ll break the tent.”
Ethan came out in a hurry while putting on his jacket and smiled at Sumin’s classmate.
”Your shirt is backwards, Ethan,” Sieun looking at her friend. Sumin and Ethan exchanged glances, and then both looked down in embarrassment over what had just happened.
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wishluc · 11 months
Note
Hello! I’m a bit nervous since I’ve just started following you but! You said your asks are open so I’m giving it a go!
Soft? Yandere Diavolo? With him being all possessive and affectionate of the reader? And reader maybe being okay about it? Them being resigned to all the cuddling and just going “well what can you do?” While Diavolo is snuggling them feeling super euphoric?
I don’t know if I did this right.
If you don’t wanna do it or if this isn’t your style then that’s fine! no need to stress about it you can just delete this ask, it is you blog after all.
Anyways! I hope you have an amazing day. Bye ❤️
Hihi anon!! I really had sooo mcuch fun with this ♡ I'm terribly sorry it took so long to get out!!
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There are worse places to be, you think, than in the arms of the future king of the Devildom.
At least you know that Lord Diavolo doesn't wish you any harm, not in the same way that others do. He whispers to you, with a large hand on your cheek and his voice unusually soft, that he'd never hurt you—you don't have it in you to tell him that his love, all his deliberate caresses and fond promises, was the source of your suffering. You couldn't admit that it shattered something inside you when he confessed his feelings, that you felt all your carefully built relationships crumble the moment he announced your relationship to everyone else, and that nothing hurt you more than the searing pain in your heart when it became abundantly clear that you were never leaving the Devildom. ("Your home," Diavolo had announced, "is in the Devildom now. Why would you want to leave?")
Maybe the signs were always there; his constant fascination with you and your world, his persistence that you spend nights at the castle and his barrage of invitations to dinner, taking you out to the Devildom's finest restaurants. You should have noticed how his warm smile dimmed when you went out arm in arm with Asmo and how insistently he kept asking you if you really wanted to stay in HoL after the incident. You foolishly believed that this was him making sure the exchange student was comfortable, and not his growing jealousy of the time the brothers had with you—Time he didn't have to spare. And you were still oblivious, even when the brothers started receiving a suspicious increase in their council duties, when the number of guests at the 'exchange student dinners' with Lord Diavolo dwindled in numbers until only you and him were left together, with Barbatos waiting nearby, and when his somewhat subtle words of affection turned bolder, his delicate compliments becoming audacious, almost, but you stayed silent despite how uncomfortable you felt. After all, this was his domain you were in, and by his kindness that you were able to live in relative comfort.
And when it finally occurred to you just how short the chains he placed on you were, you had long lost any opportunity to leave.
(Though a little part of you was aware that the moment you stumbled into the Devildom, the moment the smallest gleam of interest flickered in Lord Diavolo's eye, your fate had already been sealed.)
You tell yourself that you should be content that he's careful about where his hands linger now, gently wrapping himself around you while placing soft kisses on your skin, instead of excitedly smothering you like he used to do when you first met him. You try to be grateful for the little things—thanks to Barbatos's involvement, Diavolo was a lot more...lenient about how much time you spent with the others, and he had eased up on the extremely extravagant gifts. You can appreciate his sincere feelings, and you should appreciate it—who else can say they have a king wrapped around their finger?
But no amount of reassurance can quell your pounding heart or the instinctive tensing of your body as his hands stroke you in an attempt to ease you into his embrace. He's tried, before, to coax you with cloying, saccharine words, and he still tries it now, but it doesn't work in helping you relax. Every affectionate word only serves to heighten your dread, reminding you of just how serious he was. If he was simply just infatuated with you, fascinated by your unfamiliar manner of speaking and demeanor, you could hold on to the hope that his interest would whittle away, that something newer would catch his attention and you were free to spend the rest of your time in the Devildom in relative peace. But he spoke of love, of how much he adored you and how perfect you were for him, of how much he missed you and with every adoring word and intimate whisper, you could feel the part of you that was hopeful and optimistic dim and wither, until all that was left was a deafening silence and the crushing reality.
You've long tuned him out in the middle of him talking about his day. If it were the you from a few months ago, you would have listened closely to every detail and every happening, but now, from a combination of resentment, indifference and general despair, you could hardly bring yourself to listen.
"If you'd like to try it, we can go next week?" Your mind races for a moment; what was happening next week?
"I can't," you say, "I promised Mammon I'd go with him to a modeling gig."
You can't see him, with him facing your back, but you know he's frowning, the pensive look he always has when he's deep in thought.
"I'm sure Mammon won't mind if you can't make it," he instead says, breaking the developing silence, "I'll compensate him if he loses the job."
You want to shrink in on yourself again, suffocated by doubt once more. Would Mammon really be fine with it? Your relationship with the brothers was already delicate enough as a result of Diavolo's interest in you, and you were hoping the day spent with Mammon would help reassure you that it wasn't all that bad. That things could be salvaged. That you still had someone.
Clearly, Diavolo didn't wish the same.
"I guess that's dealt with, then."
Diavolo moves in closer, his lips pressed against the crook of your neck. The warmth radiating off him is almost uncomfortable now, but you pretend it doesn't bother you as one of his hands goes to find your clasped hands, gently tugging them apart only to grasp your free hand in his.
"I could take care of anything for you," a soft assurance, "you only need to say the word."
You sigh, defeated, "I know."
"I wish you'd ask more of me," he admits, his hand gently squeezing yours, in what you think should be soothing, "you can trust me."
You hum noncommittally.
The air around you seems to get tenser, his chest stiff against your back. He calls out your name softly, sounding almost vulnerable.
"Do I..." He hesitates, but you know the question is on the tip of his tongue, and you brace yourself, "Are you happy, with me?"
It's not the best situation to find yourself in; none of this is. But it isn't the worst. You could be back in the attic, strong hands around your neck, or you could be cowering behind a crumbling wall. You could be hiding in an empty stall, tears of frustration racing down your cheeks.
You bring your intertwined fingers up to your lips to leave a soft kiss, "Yes. I really am."
After all, there are worse places to be, worse fates awaiting you. In comparison, this isn't too unbearable. It's this reminder that keeps you from breaking down yet again, and this reminder that keeps the fake smile on your face later.
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all works © wishluc. do not copy, steal or repost my works on other platforms. (including translations)
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callofdooty69 · 3 months
Text
part 1
cw: slight harassment, profanity, fem!reader
helping a drunk can get you dates - part two
unknown
hey, is this simon? it’s y/n from the restaurant!
ghost glanced down at his phone, looking to see what the buzzing sound came from. his eyes widening a bit, not knowing you would message him the same day he asked you out, but he definitely didn’t mind.
simon riley
yes, it is. how are you?
he anxiously tapped his foot on the sidewalk as he waited for the train, watching the three dots disappear and reappear multiple times. why was he this nervous?
y/n
i’m doing well! are we still on for friday? no worries if not, we can totally reschedule if needed!!
simon riley
i’m still free if you are, anywhere specific you want to go?
you pondered for a moment. walking back from the restaurant to your small apartment didn’t take long, but you always got nervous walking alone at night. where would he even want to go? you didn’t want to spring anything on him that he wasn’t comfortable with.
y/n
nope! dealer’s choice ;)
a winky face? really?? you added a fucking winky face?! you internally screamed at yourself, you’re already sending a stupid flirty message and you barely know him.
simon chuckled at your response; he found it cute.
simon riley
well, if that’s the case, how about that diner on washington avenue? i’ve heard great things about it.
it’s like he was reading your mind, you loved that place. you were tomato red and smiling to yourself like an idiot. you were so glued on your phone that you didn’t see the three men walking your way. it wasn’t until you bumped into one of them that you looked up.
“watch it, bitch.” he said.
“sorry…”
suddenly, simon’s gut told him something was wrong. you hadn’t responded in a few minutes, which normally he wouldn’t think twice about. but when he heard shouting from behind him, he knew something was up. he turned around, looking in the dark, the dim street lamp being the only source of light on the road. what the fuck?
there you were, slowly walking backwards and stumbling over your feet as three men inches closer towards you. it was obvious you were incredibly uncomfortable and simon didn’t think twice before running around the railing and down the steps. he jogged up behind you, lightly grabbing your waist from behind. you jumped a bit, already anxious about the current situation you were in. you didn’t need someone else harassing you.
when you looked up, you let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding in. there he was, the tall brute himself. “there you are, love. was lookin’ for ya’” he said.
you hesitated a moment, slightly in shock. “o-oh hey! sorry, i got a bit lost on the way back.”
his brows furrowed when he looked down at the guys in front of you. “do you know them?” you shook your head and whispered a small ‘no’
“who the hell is this? what, you need your boyfriend to save you?” they all laughed. you looked down, fiddling in your hands. what if simon started laughing with them? what if he couldn’t do anything to help? what if-
“i don’t think anyone needs to be saved. jus’ think ya’ should get the fuck outta here and back to the frat house where ya’ came from.” his voice got deep and his eyes darkened as he let go of your waist and grabbed onto your hand, rubbing small circles on your knuckles to try and reassure you. he was starting to get pissed off, they should have taken the hint a long time ago.
the men stopped their laughing, seeming to realize who was actually standing in front of them. a tall, broad, military man, wearing a balaclava and a pair of cargo pants that were paired with a black, skin tight long sleeve shirt. you had to admit, the sight made you weak in the knees. how was he always so handsome?
“r-right… we’ll be goin’ now,” one of them stuttered. with that, the ran the other direction and tripped over each other.
you were pulled out of your thoughts when simon squeezed your hand lightly. “ya’ alright?”
you looked up and smiled, ‘god how can you smile so beautifully after all this?’ he thought. “yes, thank you. just a bit startled. sorry for not responding, kinda got caught up in this…” you replied.
“you don’t have anythin’ to be sorry for, love. can i walk ya’ home?” he tilted his head and you could tell he was smiling a bit under the balaclava.
“that would be really nice, if it’s not too much trouble.”
“never too much trouble.” he smiled.
****
anons are open as always, lovebugs ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡
- 𝓀.𝒿
tag list: @idesofarch
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thefoxtherapist · 10 months
Note
Hey…. would you mind me asking for persona 5 Akira or Ren that has a crush on the reader but is too afraid to ask and Arsene tries to help by taking over and saying some really smooth lines and flirts but fails because the reader is weirded out.
P.s I love your writing. Sorry if my grammar is bad. I studied English but I'm still working on grammar.
Hello! Thank you so much for the compliment, and your English is great don't worry about that ^^
I hope this is okay! Have a great day :)
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Akira was a lot of things, smart, strategic, charismatic. But he was far from competent at flirting. Some connections to others came naturally, his friends and allies, for instance. But some connections just fell out of his purview. They were work! All friendships were work to maintain, but those ones were easy. You. Something about you, specifically.
He leaned on his hand, watching you from nearby. His crush was getting ridiculous, distracting. Morgana had noticed, meowing quietly from within his desk to tease him. Something Akira ignored. It wasn't like Morgana was any good at flirting either, if one could even call his sad attempts to woo Ann as flirting.
Akira rested his head on his arms, sighing quietly into his uniform jacket. He didn't even need to flirt! He just needed to talk to you, ask you out to go somewhere. He had no trouble asking the others to hang out. The bell rang and he sat up properly, catching a glimpse of you collecting your bag out of the corner of his eye. 
He stood up, bringing his bag over his shoulder. And suddenly, he felt like a visitor in his own body. A weird sort of warmth flooded him and he was pivoting almost awkwardly. Arsène? The him within seemed fed up with his pining, and before he could react he was in front of your desk as you got up with your bag.
You looked at him, his sudden appearance somewhat of a surprise. "Do you have a map? I keep getting lost in your eyes." The words from his mouth were the worst. Arsène, what are you doing? You blinked, once, twice. Arsène certainly wasn't going to succeed with lines like that. That was just embarrassing.
"Excuse me?"
And your reaction was even worse. “I believe in following my dreams, so you should lead the way.” No, that’s even worse. Arsène…. You looked incredibly conflicted, glancing away from him before glancing back at him. Abort mission. The lines weren’t even that good, where did he get them? Maybe it was one of those magazines Akira had read while he was at Ann’s.. 
Akira forced control of himself once more, a nervous smile gracing his features as he looked at you. He wasn’t sure how to save this situation. “Sorry, my friend told me those would work. I shouldn’t have listened to him.” Yeah, smooth. You returned his smile with one of your own, though you didn’t seem completely convinced. 
“You’re the transfer student, right?” 
“Akira.”
You gave him your name and he nodded, he’d already overheard Kawakami refer to you during class. Another moment passed with the two of you looking at each other, you looked away from him first and he followed suit. Morgana moved around in the bag, as if to remind him to actually say something, maybe. A wingman, for sure.
“Do you want to go to Bikkuri Boy with me? I’ve heard good things about the selection there.” Akira steeled himself for a no, especially after Arsène’s unwanted attempts to help him with the whole thing. You pulled your phone from your pocket, glancing down to look at the screen quickly. Why was he so nervous? He could defeat shadows, steal treasure..
“Sure.”
“That’s okay maybe- sure?”
You exhaled a small laugh, pocketing your phone as you looked at him. You gave him a nod, adjusting your grip on your bag. “Yeah, sure! I’m kind of curious about all those rumours.. And who better to go to than the source, right? Just, no more bad pickup lines.” You laughed this time and Akira couldn’t help his smile, nor the chuckle as he pushed up his glasses.
“No more bad pickup lines, promise.” Well, he wasn’t very useful, but Akira did have to give it to Arsène for actually getting him in front of you to talk. You gestured towards the classroom door and Akira was quick to follow you. Talking to you came easier than he thought as you made your way through the school towards the exit. A lingering thanks left to his Persona.
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hllywdwhre · 3 months
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Afterglow
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Pairing: Cillian Murphy x fem!reader
Summary: Ghosts from your past cause problems in yours and Cillian’s relationship
Warnings: None; let me know if I missed any
Word Count: 659
Notes: Based on the song ‘Afterglow’ by Taylor Swift
“I’m sorry!” You shouted across the room, looking at him as he sat in the kitchen chair across from you.
Both of the pupils of your eyes contrasted with the red that lined them, tears streaking down the two faces.
“I just want to know why,” he said, voice gravelly as he looked up at you, “Why don’t you trust me? What have I done to betray your trust that outweighs what I’ve done to gain it?”
Cillian’s voice reflected the hurt you felt, even though you were the source of the hurt.
“You haven’t done anything,” you admitted, walking to him, hoping he would allow you to and he wouldn’t stand and walk away from you.
“Then why do you keep building these walls up? Why do you keep forcing us into this cycle?” He asked. His voice held no anger this time; it held no malice or volume, just pure curiosity that only added to your guilt over the entire situation.
You weren’t used to someone wanting to know why you acted the way you did, just used to people running away from it. You didn’t want to sound like you were passing blame and refusing to hold yourself accountable, but it was because of how you had been hurt in the past.
So you told him.
You told him everything. As you spoke, you sat down in the chair next to him and told him how the past relationships had changed you. How you had been hurt by those who were supposed to protect you and how that had caused you to now bare scars that would never be erased. How you had opened up to others only for them to use it against you. How others hadn’t used it against you, but had lost patience in trying to understand you; they had told you they understood, but they weren’t willing to stay around and understand the deeper why’s.
“It’s all me… I’m in my head… and that isn’t supposed to sound like a line where I tell you it’s me and you comfort me and say that it’s not. It is me. I’ve been hurt and I’m acting as though you’re the one that hurt me, and you’re not,” you told him, finally looking back up at him as you finished.
“I’m still yours… at the end of this, we’ll be just fine. If you need to lose your mind for a moment, tell me, though. Tell me what’s happening and I’ll listen and reassure you. You’re all I want,” he said, taking your hand in his.
You looked down at where your fingers were interlocked and nodded, then stood up, and made your way to sit on his lap. Your arms wrapped around his neck, hugging him tightly, as if afraid to let him go.
“I’m sorry that I hurt you,” you said as you buried your head in his neck, allowing his familiar scent to surround you.
“It’s not your fault. You’ve had people hold a mirror up to your scars as if you don’t see them and say they’re the reason why they can’t be with you. That isn’t your fault. I’m here with you until the end,” he reassured you.
You lifted your head to make eye contact with him and kissed him softly, trying to portray the silent ‘thank you’ that you felt but didn’t have the right words to communicate.
He seemed to understand as he took your face in his hands, his thumbs rubbing the tears off your cheeks, and returned your kiss.
You pulled away a moment later as the reflection off of one of the wind chimes in his backyard hit your closed lids. The sun was rising outside, illuminating his backyard in hues of purples and blues and casting a mystical look outside.
“You’re worth every fight,’ he told you, kissing your forehead.
“This love is worth the fight,” you said in agreement with him.
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average-dilf-enjoyer · 7 months
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KINKTOBER
Day 3: Roleplay + Bruno Madrigal (Encanto)
Pairing: Bruno Madrigal/f!reader
Rating: Explicit
Word count: 1.5K
Warnings: Fingering, PIV sex, consensual dubcon (is that what you call it??), this is cringe I’m so sorry
A/N: Honestly just expect every fic to be rushed asf and/or slightly late because I have ten million things to do every day 😭😭 literally proofread this at 3:00 am
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You loved the Madrigals, you really did. Hell, you were married to one of them. But they could be a bit… overwhelming.
You and Bruno couldn’t even get a moment alone on your anniversary of all days, despite how much you tried. And oh, you tried, but you were constantly interrupted by people wanting to congratulate the two of you, wishing you happiness in your marriage and even giving you gifts. And when they threw a party for the two of you near the end of the day, you knew it would be late at night by the time you would get time alone. You appreciated it, of course, but all you really wanted to do was get in bed with your husband.
It was near midnight before you finally got to escape to your bedroom. After wishing everyone a good night and thanking them for everything, the two of you rushed to your room before anyone could interrupt again.
As soon as the door was locked he pulled you to him and kissed you. “Mierda, I thought we’d never get away,” he chuckled between kisses. “‘M sorry, mi vida. They mean well, it’s just…”
“Mm, I know. It’s sweet of them to do all of this for us,” you assured him, taking his hand and dragging him to the bed.
Bruno grinned as you pulled him onto the mattress with you, threading his fingers with yours as he laid next to you. “Yeah… I mean, it’s nice, but I’ve been dying to get alone all day,” he sighed, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb.
You cupped his cheek in your hand. “Well we have now, don’t we?”
He nodded, climbing over you. “Yeah… gonna make up for all the time we lost today,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss at your neck.
“Y’know, I was thinking… maybe we could do something different tonight..?” you whispered back, slightly nervous about his reaction to what you’re about to suggest.
He leaned away to look at you, a small smile playing on his lips. “What is it?”
“Um… well…” you took a deep breath, trying to steel your nerves. “Have you ever heard of, uh… roleplay?”
He gave you a knowing smirk, leaning closer. “Yeah..?”
“Um. Well, I was thinking, maybe we could try it?”
He kissed you again, sweet and gentle. “Sounds fun. What’d you have in mind?”
“Well, I was thinking maybe you could play a thief breaking into my home or something..?” you suggested, still shy.
He nodded, fully paying attention, and you had no idea how he wasn’t laughing at you. You felt ridiculous for even mentioning it. “Okay,” he said. Simple, no judgement or amusement in his voice. You would even go so far as to say he sounded excited. “You sure you wanna do this?”
You nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure.”
“Alright then, let’s do it,” he agreed with a smile and a kiss to your cheek.
“You better have been telling the truth when you said your real gift is acting.”
You awoke to a thud from somewhere in your house. You sat up, rubbing your eyes. “Wha..?” you groaned to yourself, getting up to search for the source of the noise. You didn’t even get to the door before you found your answer.
You screamed when the man appeared in your doorway, and he quickly silenced you with a hand over your mouth.
“Shut. Up.” he seethed, grabbing you hard and pushing you back onto your bed. “You're gonna let me have my way, got it?”
You nodded wordlessly, too afraid to speak.
He nodded in return. “Good.”
You watched in terror as he went through your room, knocking things to the ground and searching your drawers.
“This real gold?” he asked, holding up a necklace he found on your dresser.
“Yes,” you said quietly, terrified of what he might do to you if you lied.
He hummed and pocketed the piece of jewelry, then turned to you, eyeing you up and down. "Mierda, you're pretty. I couldn't see you well before, but now that I've got a better view, I think I might take you too."
You felt a chill run down your spine at his words. Take you..? You weren't sure what he meant, and you didn't think you wanted to. He started walking towards you and you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for whatever he was about to do. What you didn't expect was for his hands to grip your wrists, pushing you back onto the mattress as he climbed over you. Your eyes flew open. "Sir..."
He grinned as you whimpered under him. "I'm gonna make a deal with you. You let me fuck you, I'll leave."
Your eyes widened at his proposal, a mix of fear and arousal swirling in your gut. "And if I don't?"
The man chuckled darkly, his grip tightening on your wrists. "I'll make sure there isn't a single valuable item left in this entire house. Your choice, cariña."
You gaze up at his eyes, now darkened with lust, weighing your options. Surely it would be easier to just let him do this... and you certainly couldn't afford to lose all of your possessions. "You can fuck me," you answered meekly.
"Yeah, that's what I thought," he growled, letting go of one wrist so he could unbutton his pants.
You whimpered involuntarily when his other hand left your wrist to slide up your shirt, running along the skin, "Dios, you're soft..."
"Please don't hurt me..." you whispered shakily as he moved his hands to the hem of your skirt.
"I won't," he assured you, sliding down your skirt and panties, surprisingly gentle. "All you gotta do is lay there and keep looking pretty."
You nodded, eyes wide as his eyes roamed your body, drinking you in. His fingers gently prodded at your entrance, and you hissed at the feeling of his cold fingers on your heat.
His eyes never left yours as two of his long, thick fingers slid into you, watching you writhe and gasp beneath him. "That's it, hermosa..."
The nickname only made you more aroused, gasping and panting as he crooked his fingers inside you. You couldn't believe you were aroused at all. He was stealing from you a moment ago, for God's sake. But you couldn't help it. He was handsome and so gentle with you, the opposite of what you had thought he would be. "Please, sir..." you moaned softly as that oh-so familiar pressure built up inside you.
"Mierda, you're easy, aren't you? I've barely even touched you," he admonished you, pumping his fingers faster.
He had you coming on him fingers in seconds, moaning loudly into the quiet of your room. "There you go, cariña..."
"Sir," you whined after you came down from your high. "Fuck me."
"Needy," he chuckled. "Thought you were afraid of me?" he asked as he slid down his pants, revealing everything the cloth was hiding, and wow, it was hiding a lot. There wasn't anything particularly remarkable about his dick, but it looked incredible, hard and leaking precum.
"I am." You really were. You just also happened to be incredibly turned on, and his cock standing at attention in front of you wasn't helping.
He hummed and notched his tip at your entrance, slowly pushing into you. "But you like it." He said it like it was a fact. And it was. You did like it.
You gasped at the intrusion, grasping at his shoulders as he slid into you. "Ohhh, fuck-" you moaned.
The man hissed above you, fisting his hands into the sheets. "Oh, mierda, that's good." He began thrusting into you, setting a slow pace that quickly gained speed as you got acquainted with the feeling of him inside of you.
"More," you whined, rolling your hips to meet his thrusts, pushing him deeper. "More, sir, please..."
He snaked one hand between your bodies, reaching to play with your clit. His fingers rubbing circles into the sensitive bud had you reeling, unable to focus on anything other than the pleasure rapidly building in you.
"You close?" he rasped, rubbing your clit faster as his thrusts grew erratic. "Want you to come with me, can ya do that, hermosa?"
You nodded, gasping as he speared you on his dick over and over again. "Mhmm."
A moment later he was spilling inside of you with a loud groan, and the feeling of him filling you up was what pushed you over the edge. You came hard, searing waves of pleasure running through your trembling body.
"Bruno..." you sighed as he collapsed on top of you. "Holy fuck."
"I know," he laughed breathlessly, pulling out of you and rolling onto his back.
You turned to him, resting an arm across his stomach. "Happy anniversary, Bruno."
"Happy anniversary, cariña."
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mycatsaidwhat · 8 months
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things i've heard college professors say pt. 15
-type “humpty dumpty sat on a wall humpty dumpty had a great fall” with no spaces and no regrets 
-I sincerely don’t sit around reading the wills of people from 16th century Stratford-upon-Avon
-do we have a federal department of education? *reluctantly* yes we do 
-okay. It’s 10:30 and I’m cold and mad. 
-I was assigned to read Macbeth and was like what the fuck, I want to play Nintendo 
-That sounds like something said by someone who wrote 12 historyplays 
-I googled today, which I really suggest you guys do 
-not to bring up florida,
-current event: balloons!
-(cytogeneticist) I make a lot of money saying I don’t know. It’s a pretty sweet gig.  
-*someone comes into the classroom looking lost* is there a meeting in here at 11?
(professor) no i don’t think so, this class goes until 11:30
*person leaves* 
(professor, turning back to the class) probably a serial killer 
-Yeah, and then Shakespeare was like I never fucking loved you– 
-The three typical sources of creative nonfiction essays are the unconscious mind, literature, or the trauma of our lives. Now none of these are technically untrue–
-you don’t have to be smart to understand Shakespeare
*alarm starts going off on student’s phone* 
OH GOD I’M SORRY IM BEING SMITED 
-“In which the men spend several hours taunting each other with speeches and thwacking each other with sticks.” Yes. That sounds perfect. 
-This is, like, nerdy shit I’ve learned over the years 
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edosianorchids901 · 4 months
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Hope Rekindled
Ace Omens Hugfest 2024 prompt - "a reunion hug"
Utah, 1869
Really, Crowley wanted to be asleep. Preferably back in London, asleep, but asleep back in New York would do. Even asleep in any random hotel in the middle of nowhere would do.
But no. He’d gotten himself into this, by talking up how great railroads were for sin and crime and everything, not to mention how much they could expedite demonic work without as many travel expenses. And now, for some reason, Hell wanted a report on two railroads joining up. Big deal.
A twinge of grief tugged at his stomach, and he tried to ignore it as he steered his horse around a bend. Normally, he would think this was a big deal. He’d even tried to get excited about it with the aid of copious amounts of alcohol. But without Aziraphale in his life, everything just seemed pointless.
At least soon, he’d be able to stop riding around following the progress of the Union Pacific and go back to somewhere with a more reliable source of alcohol. Maybe he’d go investigate the rampant corruption of the railroad’s operations. That should make Hell—
“Awfully sorry, but I’ve gotten a bit turned around, do you know the way to—”
Slowly, Crowley raised his head. There, coming around the bend from the opposite direction, was Aziraphale. On a light palomino, dressed in fancy beige clothes that really didn’t belong in this rough and tumble territory. Staring at Crowley with the same shocked horror that Crowley could feel on his own face.
They hadn’t spoken since Crowley asked for holy water. It might be smarter to turn around, to head back in the opposite direction. Aziraphale had to be pissed off at him, for that whole thing.
Crowley gulped and scrambled for words. “Er. Hi. What’re you doing here?”
“Um.” Aziraphale’s lip trembled, and he fumbled with his reins. His horse pinned its ears at the restless fidgeting. “Heaven, um, sent me to witness this great act of unity.”
“‘Course that’s how they see it. Never mind the corruption or theft of land or…” Crowley cut off. Normally, he and Aziraphale would have a rousing debate, a fun debate. But it seemed too risky now. “Hell wants me to witness the expansion of greed n’ stuff.”
“Of course that’s how they see it.” A small, nervous smile tugged at Aziraphale’s expression, and he gestured. “Um, would you ride with me? I’m afraid you’ll have to lead, though. I’m lost. I’ve been following the railroad—”
“No, I’ve been following the railroad,” Crowley interrupted. “I’d definitely have seen you.”
Aziraphale pointed to the west, towards the Central Pacific’s line. “The other railroad, dear boy.”
“Oh. Right. Opposite Sides, of course.” Frowning, Crowley tried to figure out why Heaven would be backing them. “Are they somehow less shady than the Union Pacific? At least, in Heaven’s eyes.”
“I believe they’re both rather reprehensible. But I happened to be in San Francisco, fomenting peace.”
“Right. I happened to be in New York, fomenting chaos.”
They stared at each other, their horses now both looking impatient. Finally, Aziraphale gave a little sigh. “Well, do you know where we’re supposed to be going?”
“Er. No, actually. I’m slightly lost too.” Crowley looked around, but he couldn’t catch a glimpse of any of the trails or sections of rail from here. “Guess we could just ride until we find the railroad, follow that.”
A very familiar look crossed Aziraphale’s face now, shy but mischievous. “Or. We could, um. Share a drink and a snack. I still have a very nice bottle of wine that I brought with me from San Francisco. And some absolutely lovely little cakes that I got at the last town. I’m sure the newspapers will paint a vivid enough picture for us to write our own reports.”
“Really?” Startled, Crowley pushed his hat back to see the angel more clearly. Aziraphale was blushing a little. “Wow, am I just that bad of an influence, or have you been dodging your duties this whole time?”
“Well, you are a dreadful influence.” Aziraphale gestured to a shrubby patch of trees. “But in truth, I’d much rather enjoy the serenity of nature than to watch humans get into a measuring contest over whose railroad tie is longer.”
Crowley sputtered, and Aziraphale gave him an entirely innocent smile. As always, it was impossible to be completely sure whether Aziraphale was completely oblivious or fully aware of the innuendo.
“Right. Okay.” Yielding, Crowley tipped his hat and struggled off his horse. His hips and legs throbbed, and he gritted his teeth against the pain. Riding horses was always a torture of its own.
“I’ll tie the horses, shall I?” Aziraphale asked, already taking the reins.
His fingers brushed against Crowley’s, and both of them froze. Crowley battled the urges that barraged him. To babble apologies, to demand apologies, to wrap Aziraphale in a hug and never let go again.
Before Crowley could make up his mind, Aziraphale did. The angel dropped both sets of reins, stepped forward, breaths shaky, and wrapped his arms around Crowley’s waist. It was a tentative hug, shy and unsure, his fingers worrying at the fabric of Crowley’s jacket.
“I missed you,” Aziraphale whispered, and tried to pull away.
But Crowley had finally regained his senses. He hugged Aziraphale back, holding him close, and pressed his face into the soft curls. Their hats knocked together, his own nearly sliding off. “Missed you too.”
Apparently, Aziraphale found this just as embarrassing as Crowley did. When they let go of each other and stepped back, they studiously avoided each other’s gaze. Aziraphale took the horses over and tied them to a sturdier tree, and Crowley snapped a blanket into existence for himself and Aziraphale to sit on.
“Here we are.” Still avoiding eye contact, Aziraphale joined him with the wine and cakes. “I don’t suppose you have any goodies to contribute?”
“Unfortunately not. Haven’t been hungry lately.” Crowley’s hand shook, but he held it out anyway. “Today, cake sounds terrific.”
As Aziraphale passed him a little iced cake, their eyes met. Aziraphale smiled, just a little, and Crowley smiled back.
At first it was awkward, talking again after all that had happened. They skirted around any complicated topics, mostly just updating each other on things. But after only a few minutes, it became easier. And in no time, as they drank wine, ate cakes, and laughed together, it was as if they’d never been upset with each other at all.
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hunting4fluff · 3 months
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Spider Bite
A fanfic requested by @dropyoursocksandgrabyourcrocss, the first out of 2 promises! Sorry for the inactivity, I recently started college and it's completely wiped the floor with me. Anyways, enjoy!
Fluff fic, 1,328 words Lee!Reader Ler!Miguel O'Hara CWs: none Finally, a day of reprieve. 
You had been working hard all week to ensure the increasing anomalies in base were kept at bay and to say it was tiring would be a gross understatement. It had been alarm after rift after alarm, the blaring practically burned into your eardrums by now. You’d be lucky if you didn’t get tinnitus. 
What does anyone do after a long, thankless week of being on call? Why, treat themself of course!
You had just entered the bustling cafeteria with countless spider-people swishing on webs and standing in lines to get their fill when you noticed a slight shift out the corner of your eye. Your spider senses weren’t tingling, but people were definitely moving out of the way which only made the shift in the air more unsettling. Whipping your head to stare at the commotion head on, you can’t help but smile at the situation. It was just Miguel.
People knew when he was in one of his bad moods- usually he would be trying to make small talk with certain groups, grab someone’s attention when he had a small comment about their work, but never really driving people away or chatting much. Today he looked absolutely foul, glaring off into the void as he grabbed a to-go box with a burger and slinking off to his office once again. It was always a good idea to leave him be when he was in one of these funks, but the look on his face stuck around long enough in your mind to make you want to check in on him.
You grabbed a to-go box for yourself and opened a portal, bouncing down onto the platform of Miguel’s ‘office’. 
“What.” He grumbled out, hearing the soft thud and careful padding of your feet as you approached him. He saved his sharper tone for people he was less fond of, for now he just sounded tired.
“You’re in a fun mood today.” You point out, the playful smile evident in your voice as you hoist yourself up to sit on an empty spot on his desk. He spared you a glance and huffed, popping a fry into his mouth. “Aren’t you off work? Why are you still here?” He was avoiding the not-quite-question, so you of course answer then ask again.
“I wanted a meal and hopefully a conversation. What’s wrong?”
Miguel looked over at you before shaking his head with a defeated smile and rolling his eyes.
“Dios mío, you’re persistent.” He snorted, eating another fry. “Nothing, I just have one of those- what are the kids calling it? ‘RBF’s?”
You rolled your eyes at that, smiling as Miguel chuckled to himself.
“Yeah something like that.” You comment. Maybe he wasn’t in as bad of a mood as you thought.
“But since you’re here,” Miguel looked back at you, placing his food down in front of him and spinning his chair to face you. “I don’t think we officially completed your onboarding.” You blinked in surprise, quirking a brow. “Miguel, I’ve been here for three months.” You reminded him slowly, staring at him as if he had just lost his mind.
“Yes, I know that, but we skipped over a few details in your ‘canon events’ folder that I didn’t notice until a few hours ago. Lyla finally got to that part of the scan. Nada.”
Right. Of course, that made sense. You nodded your head and looked at him, waiting to continue. “Won’t take long. So, do you remember what kind of spider bit you?” He started, swiping up a screen and pulling up footage of your first canon event. The video was clearly inconclusive of the spider, the origin of it being unknown and making it harder to trace back to a definitive source.  You remembered the spider crawled under your shirt and bit your side, leaving a nasty mark the first night before you had actually gotten your powers- but you had no clue what it looked like.
“I… dunno. It’s been a while and I crushed that poor guy when I was bitten.” You shook your head. 
“Where?” It was an odd sounding question coming from Miguel, but his brain had worked faster than his words when it came spilling out. “Usually spider-people are bitten on the back of their hand, smacking it off for those who crush it. I would have been visible falling off your hand, but I can’t see it anywhere.“ He explained.
“Oh! Uh, somewhere on my side, like right here…” You gestured vaguely to where you remembered the spider biting- well, you remembered which side at least. Your left one.
“Alright… not super helpful…” He mumbled in thought, only for you to yelp in protest as he grabbed your side and held some sort of tool near it.
“Hey!” 
“Hold still, I just need a quick scan.” He ordered. Still you squirmed. It tickled. Miguel shook his head and grabbed your side again, this time earning a short giggle. He stopped in his tracks and looked up at you, processing what had just happened as you stared back at him tensely. You only had about two seconds to even stare before he had sat down his tool and scooped you up into his arms with a playful grin.
“Ticklish, are we?” He teased, one hand scribbling lightly up and down your side with the edges of his nails. The movement earned only more squirming from you as well as fresh peals of giggles as you kicked and wriggled in his grasp. His fingers skittered up to your ribs, gently tweaking the bottommost one before crawling up to lightly poke just below your underarm and crawl down again and it left you howling with laughter.
“M-miguel!” You cried out, squirming harder in your ticklish frenzy and almost managing to writhe free before he shifted his arm to wrap around your waist and start tickling your side. You doubled over with laughter, kicking out in front of you and pushing at his arm all the while his other hand came up to gently scribble at the side of your neck.
“You know, normally I wouldn’t be so childish, but I’ve been needing a little pick me up this week.” Miguel teased. You bunched up your shoulders, peals of giggles pouring out of you just as his touch began to slow down. He let you rest as you slumped in his grip, residual giggles bubbling out as you caught your breath.
“I’m a little surprised you weren’t laughing this hard as that spider crawled to your side.” He pointed out, emphasizing his point by poking two fingers into your side a couple times and sending a jolt through you.
“Ehehe- quit it!” You whined at his teasing, your cheeks growing flush as you squirmed again. Miguel chuckled, shaking his head. “Ah, what? Quit this?” He began gently pinching your side up and down, pulling fresh laughter from you as you nodded your head.
“Yes- yehes! Quit thahat!” You managed to squeak out. His fingers remained pinched on your side but had stilled for the moment, but for some reason that was worse. The anticipation left you shaking and giggling, waiting for when he would start up again.
“Quit that…?” He prompted, his voice dripping with amusement as you awaited whatever fate become you.
“Please!” You spat out and Miguel relented, patting your side and finally releasing you.
“Certainly.” He snickered. You turned around and rubbed your sides, only to be greeted by Miguel’s grinning face- you can’t remember the last time he looked this happy, or even the last time he smiled. He put his hands up in faux surrender, shaking his head.
“I’m done, I swear.” He assured, and you relaxed a bit. “Let’s just finish our lunch.” He offered, sitting back down and picking up his to-go box in a gesture of good faith. Your food was still warm and it tasted delightful.
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yawntutsyip · 1 year
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Warnings: none
AN: I felt bad that I deleted this story 😭, I lost all motivation for writing it and I didn’t realize that people actually liked it 🙏😔 forgive me. I’ve been trying to figure out what I’m gonna do for the plot so I think I came up with something I like so hopefully it will go good. I also fixed some grammar mistakes and spelling errors so hopefully it’s all good now mb if there still some
Context: Your father had fallen sick causing you and your mother, along with your father, to move villages. Needing help from the Tsahìk. Ronal discovers that you were interested in learning about herbs and healing she began to take you under he wing teaching you everything she knew as if you were the Tsahìk in training. After she and Tonowari learns that you haven't been able to make friends thought the years you've been in the village she (forces) suggest that you hang out with Ao'nung and his friends hopping that will help.
Ngaytxoa: Sorry , Apologies
Nari si skxawng: watch out moron
Za'u : come here
Kaltxi sa'nu, sempul : Hello mother, father
'itetsyìp : a name for daughter
Mawey: calm down
Irayo: thank you, thanks
Fnu: be quiet
I see you | Chapter One
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As (Y/N) grew up she could tell something was wrong with her father, Every week it seemed that he had gotten weaker and weaker.
It had gotten so bad he eventually was on permanent bed rest having to be cared for by her mother at all times.
Having such a close bond with her parents she never left their side unless she had to run an errand for her mother.
Through the years of being by her mother's side and the frequent healers that could come and help, she began to study and learn from them
Taking mental notes and practicing in her own time she learned what things mixed with what, and what you should and shouldn’t use.
It was the only thing that kept the little girl's mind off of the terrible situation.
As time continued to pass, on (Y/N)’s 12th birthday just when it had seemed like everything was getting better and her father had seemed like he was healing just fine
It seemed to immediately shoot back down and he had fallen ill once again now even worse.
His body turned immune to the medicine that he was given.
The girl's mother was deeply frustrated and in pain from seeing her mate in this state.
Her mother began to shut down, hardly talking to anyone and never leaving her mate's side. Focused on one thing which was taking care of her mate, making sure he was getting the help he needed.
When (Y/N) tried talking with her mother she would only reply in short responses. It hurt the poor girl, she now finds herself wishing she had a mother again.
Soon enough the healers decide to talk your mom into traveling to the nearby village where they had more healers and the Tsahik that was able to see what was exactly going on.
It did not take long for your mother to decide on an answer and immediately began packing up bags. (Y/N) could not complain and only helped her mom pack.
Traveling to the village took about a day and by the time the family arrived in Awa’atlu, it was night.
The only light sources were the torches that were scattered around the Marui huts, the bioluminescent plants in the water, and the bright stars that were shining above.
(Y/N) was swimming on an ilu next to her mother who was on her skimwing with your father laid in front of her.
When they had come into the village's view, a loud horn reached their ears announcing their arrival as they continued to move closer.
Finally, they reached the land and immediately her father was carried away by some men, which (Y/N) would assume they were taking him to the healing hut. Her mother quickly followed shortly leaving (Y/N) all by herself.
The little girl stood there unsure of what to do, her mother and father were out of view so there was no way she would be able to find them without getting lost, this village was much bigger than her previous one.
Tears begin to cloud over her eyes piling up, threatening to spill down her aqua cheeks.
This whole journey she tried to put a strong face for her mother and father, she knew they were already dealing with a lot and didn’t want to worry them.
But once her parents were out of sight, that wall that she so bravely built up slowly began to break down.
Tears were now sliding down her face as they dropped into the sand below.
A gentle hand was laid on her shoulder. (Y/N) looked up and with her blurry view she could make out a woman in front of her slowly crouching down.
The woman’s hands move from the girl's shoulder to caressing her cheeks, using her thumbs to wipe the tears that slipped out.
“Hello my child, please do not be sad. Your father is in good care now.” The woman’s words reassured (Y/N). “I am the Tsahik, may I know your name sweetheart?” Ronal asked the small child in a soft voice, afraid of startling her.
“(Y/N)... (Y/N) te Ftxey Aman’ite, Tsahik” She replies shyly with quiet sniffles, using the back of her hand to wipe the tears away from her eyes.
“(Y/N), You have a beautiful name..Let's grab your bags and I will walk you to new Marui. It’ll be close to the healing hut so you can see your parents then.
Ronal smiled and stood up grabbing the bags that were sitting in the sand. Ronal swung some of the bags over her shoulder and then looked back at (Y/N) who was doing the same actions.
Ronal reaches her hand out to the little girl, (Y/N) hesitated at first, I mean after all this was a stranger, but then grabbed the Tsahik’s hand, and they began to walk further from the water and into the village.
“You will like it here, I promise”
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"Ngaytxoa Tsahìk!" You said to the older woman once you had arrived in the healing pod where there stayed your father along with some other injured and sick members that the healers were helping with.
On the way to the pod one of the aunties had asked you for help with carrying a basket of dried kelp for weaving and it took a little longer than you thought.
"It's alright (Y/N), as long as you're here now. I have a list of herbs I need you to collect for me really quick and then we began the lessons" Ronal said as she was finishing wrapping a younger boys arm then proceeds to grab a list off the table handing it out to you.
"Of course, I will be back shortly!" You say smiling, grabbing the list before leaving the pod.
You began to walk down the paths to collect herbs from where ever they stay. Some were different fruit and roots where you had to scavenge for and others were stuff you could get from different farmers around the island.
Once you finished you waved bye to the farmers with your filled basket you had been carrying, having all the herbs from Ronal's list in it, making your way back to the Tsahìk.
On your way back you stop for a second as you watched some of the Metkayina girls the same age hanging out together, some were braiding each others hair while others were talking probably gossiping about the newest drama that had rumored around the village.
You let out a sigh with a small frown.
You wanted to make friends but it was as if they avoided you like you were the plague.
You hung out with Tsireya a couple times but her other friends always pulled her away from you or Tsireya was busy taking her own lessons from her mother so you guys never had an actual hang out without someone coming to interrupt.
Shrugging off the sad feeling that began to rise, you begin to continue your way back.
As you were about to walk in the pod you accidentally runs into someone almost falling back at the impact.
Catching yourself, you stands straight and looks at the person you ran into about to apologize before your eyes widen as you realizes who it was.
It was one of the girls who Tsireya was always hanging out with.
"Ngaytxoa.. I didn't see you there." You say say embarrassed and looks down as if the ground was the most fascinating thing.
The girl could only scoff in annoyance and roll her eyes not bothering to pay attention to you before walking off muttering some words that you just barley heard purposely hitting your shoulder with hers.
"nari si skxawng"
You could only brush it off and continue to walk inside.
"Tsahìk I'm back! I have all the stuff you asked for." You announced as you pushes past the door to the table about to set down the basket.
"za'u (Y/N), with the basket" Ronal motioned as she was sat down on a mat with Mortar and pestle in front of her along with some water.
Turning back around you follow the orders and sets the basket down by the Tsahìk before sitting in front of her.
"Let's get to work shall we?" You could only nod her head and with that Ronal began to teach you.
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"Alright, thats enough for today. Did you understand everything?" The older woman asked while standing up with the new paste you both had just made in a bowl
"Yes, thank you for teaching me" you say responding before helping Ronal clean up.
"Do you want me to walk with you back to your Marui?"
"No, I'm gonna stay here for a little bit. Thank you." And with that Ronal nodded as her eyes softened with her smile faltering before leaving the healing pod back her to own Marui.
You let out a weary sigh before walking to the back of the pod to a more secluded area where he father stayed.
"Kaltxi sa'nu, sempul" You greet your parents knowing you wouldn't get a response back, only a small nod of acknowledgment from your mother who had her back towards you while laying a new cloth on your fathers forehead.
"how is he doing?" You crouch down next to your mother sitting on your knees as you observe.
After a long pause of quietness, your mother finally spoke up looking at her daughter.
"he's getting better now, thanks to you and the Tsahìks help" Aman (her mothers name) spoke to her daughter as she reaches forward and brushes a stray hair behind your ear before caressing your cheek.
You could only lean into your mothers touch.
Aman had gotten better at talking to her daughter again after the Tsahìk had scolded her for not paying attention, neglecting, her own child. She needs a reality check.
"It's getting late, you should head back to our Marui" Aman spoke to you bringing back her hand before checking on her mate once again.
"Will you be coming back with me this time? You asked with hope in your eyes that her mother would finally come home for once but once yoy looked at your mothers face with a sadden expression, you knew it wasn't going to happen.
"I'm sorry 'itetsyìp. Not tonight.."
You say nothing and nod. You got up and gave your parents both a quick peck on the cheek before leaving making your way back to your family's Marui.
You could feel tears fill your eyes but you refused to let them fall wiping them with the back of your hand letting out a shaky sigh.
Before you reached the Marui a hand landed on your shoulder startling you causing you to jump letting out a quiet yet loud shriek.
"Woah, mawey (Y/N)!" A familiar female voice said as you turned around to see Tsireya.
"Sorry for startling you, my mother asked me to grab you to have dinner with us! My father and Ao'nung had caught some extra fish and we can't eat it all~ come on" Tsireya said while grabbing your arm locking it with hers not waiting for an answer before pulling you in the direction of their Marui pod.
The two girls reach the pod and Tsireya walks in holding the door open for (Y/N) to walk in.
You mutters a quiet thank you giving the girl a smile before greeting everyone that was now sitting down getting ready to eat.
"Irayo Tsahìk, Olo'eyktan for having me over."
"No worries (Y/N) come in sit down next to Ao'nung" Ronal says smiling before telling Ao'nung to scoot over to make more room to which he only rolled his eyes before moving.
You sit down and everyone began to eat while the family made small talk with eachother while you just stayed quiet listening, only talking if they asked for an opinion or a question.
While eating you swear you could feel a burning gaze watching you, when you lifted your head and turn you meet Ao'nung's eyes staying back into yours.
Waiting for his eyes to pull away he never did and continued to stare, with what look in his eye? You couldn't exactly tell but you swore there was an extra sparkle.
Finally getting the hint he wasn't going to back down you quickly look away with blush creeping on your cheeks and continue to eat.
"(Y/N) have you been making any friends, you know the girls that Tsireya hangs out with?" Ronal asks looking at her causing all of them to go quiet and listen.
"Uh...well..not exactly...I guess they are always busy when I try and hang out with them.." you says now playing with your food in awkwardness.
"What? Tsireya I thought I told you to take in (Y/N) and make sure she was not being left out" Ronal questions her daughter in disappointment.
"Well...Ngaytxoa sa'nu...I thought they were hanging out with (Y/N). Ngaytxoa (Y/N)" Tsireya frowns upset that her friends weren't being nice to you.
"It's alright, I don't really need to hang out with them anyways I'm good with just hanging around with you Tsahìk" you could only smile reassuring the family theses no need to worry.
"Nonsense! (Y/N) you are still a kid. As much as I like having your company You need to go hang out with people your own age sometimes." Ronal replies to you.
"Why don't you hang out with Ao'nung and Rotxo! Rotxo is a good boy. Very respectful and I'm sure Ao'nung would be happy to have you hang out with him, right Ao'nung?!" Tonowari speaks up looking at Ao'nung.
Ao'nung's mouth is open astonished that his father even suggested that. "What? Why does she have to-"
Before he could finish his sentence his mother interrupts him with a harsh glare making him immediately shut up.
"Right Ao'nung?" Ronal says smiling yet still glaring at the poor boy who could only nervously avoid his mothers fiery gaze.
"Yes. She can hang out with us tomorrow..." he grumbles out shoving the last bit of food in his mouth no longer paying attention to the conversation that was going on.
"See (Y/N) there you go, You have some people to hang out with." You could only smile with a nod before going back to eating.
A little bit later everyone was finally done eating you began to help Tsireya clean up the plates.
"(Y/N) you don't have to help Tsireya. Ao'nung will walk you to your Marui" Tonowari told you with a hand on your shoulder grabbing the dishes that were in her hands.
"Oh no it's alright-" (Y/N) began to speak but was cut off with Ronal shaking her head telling you no before pushing you toward the door where Ao'nung stood muttering words under his breath that you couldn't make out.
"Okay then...goodnight, thank you for having me over for dinner" You smiled waving bye to them as you exits the Marui with Ao'nung following behind.
You and Ao'nung walk to your Marui in silence.
While you were in your own world thinking to yourself , you didn't notice a certain boys eyes on you.
Ao'nung couldn't help it, He found the Metkayina girl beautiful. But the boys ego was too high for him to talk to you and confess his attraction.
He could only play it off with being annoyed. I mean it sorta annoyed him. He never had a full conversation or even looked at you straight in the eyes..So why was he attracted to you so much. It made him frustrated.
He remembered the first time seeing you was when he got in an argument with another Metkayina boy that resulted in flying fist and so there he sat with a bloody lip and a cut on his cheek.
And out of all the healers he gotten (Y/N) to patch him up. The whole time she was making the paste she never said a word and he was thankful because the last thing he needed was another person asking what happened.
When it came to the girl applying the paste all he could think about was how her soft hands gently applied it to his cheek muttering apologies as he hissed from the sting.
But if he was being honest the butterflies in his stomach distracted him more.
He didn't realize until she was done that he had been admiring her face. Staring mostly at her darker aqua marking that were scattered framing your face, and the bioluminescent freckles sprinkled all over. How her hair was done in traditional Metkayina style (picture whatever you like) and it complemented her well.
Ao'nung snaps out of his thoughts and comes to a halt as you both stand in front of your empty Marui.
"Thank you, I'm sorry for causing you trouble.. I can just say that I'm busy tomorrow so I don't have to hang out with you" You say thanking him as you shyly stare at the ground.
While Ao'nung wanted to tell you 'no don't be! I actually want to hang out with you and get to know you' before he could think, all that came out was a
"Fnu" Ao'nung shouted and it came out a lot harsher than he meant. His eyes slightly widen with his ears lowering in embarrassment.
It made you jump a little taken back from how harsh his words came at you.
"Ngaytxoa. I'll see you tomorrow." Ao'nung said, this time in a softer voice. And with that he quickly walked away back to his Marui pod and you enter yours.
Yet another sigh of disappointment left your lips as you rub your face in frustration.
'Alone once again..'
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