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#i will be thinking about this for a long time
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Hot take maybe but I think Bertie would be FAR more likely to survive the first two months of Dracula than Jeeves would be. Bertie has a healthy sense of self-preservation. Jeeves consistently underestimates how dangerous a situation might get (Steeple Bumpleigh, the club book) because he’s overconfident about his level of control over any given situation. He'd handle Dracula masterfully if they faced off in England, but on Dracula's home turf? Much more doubtful.
I realize this might be a tough sell, so I will explain further (or it's not a tough sell, and I'm going to explain further because I want to). (criteria taken from @canyourfavesurvivecastledracula) Without further ado.
Would Jeeves and Wooster survive Castle Dracula?
Jeeves
Jeeves' survival will depend on how long Dracula finds him more entertaining than irritating. On that basis, I don't think he's long for this world. On the one hand, he has a huge wealth of knowledge about English society and culture that he can recite perfectly from memory. That should buy him at least a little time with noted teaboo Dracula.
On the other hand, he would be absolutely no fun as a vampire plaything. Jeeves cannot be got. Sneaking up on him while he's shaving will yield zero reaction (though that's at least good for his short-term survival--given that, although he DID take the crucifix from the old woman out of politeness, he certainly isn't going to wear it. The rules of fashion don't go out the window just because you're in a spooky castle). Then, although managing the whims of rich jerks is not an insignificant part of a valet's job, Jeeves usually does this by bending his employers to his will. Dracula is not the sort of employer this will work on. It'll just add insult to injury when on top of being impossible to scare, NOW Jeeves is telling Dracula that his favorite cloak is several centuries out of fashion and he's not allowed to wear it anymore.
Jeeves will 100% go exploring in the areas he was told not to go-- though to be fair, he MIGHT actually get away with this, what with his superpower of appearing in rooms without being seen or heard. Said superpower might save him from the brides as well (though this is by no means guaranteed). Since I find it doubtful that Dracula would come to rescue his annoying ass, not being noticed is his best defense.
There are a couple other things working in Jeeves's favor; the question is just whether they'll be enough to save him.
He DOES know shorthand, and could try to send coded letters. He might even have the foresight to squirrel away some extra stationary where Dracula can't find it. But could he get them posted? Would it even do him any good?
He certainly has enough cultural literacy to figure out what his new boss is pretty quickly. If he didn't chuck the crucifix out the carriage window, he might start carrying it around in his pocket.
Psychology of the individual, sure, but the individual in question is a 400-year-old vampire who lives in an isolated castle in a foreign country and is regarded as a terrifying mythological figure in the surrounding villages. Jeeves has never come up against anything this alien before, he's cut off from his normal resources, and opportunities to play people against each other are limited.
He probably has enough upper body strength from all that shrimping and fishing to climb the wall, so he COULD escape if he wanted to, if he survived long enough. It's just, again, that overconfidence, and also Dracula has a vast library full of rare old books that are entirely at his disposal. He's keeping his eyes and ears alert for potential escape strategies, of course, but I don't see him being as desperate to get out as Jonathan was.
There are just a lot of "depends on"s here, and I'm not convinced that luck would shake out in Jeeves's favor, all things considered.
Bertie
Bertie is so perfect for the job of Castle Dracula Prisoner it's like it was made for him. Think about it. Being held against his will in big manor houses comes more naturally to him than breathing. He's afraid of things that are scary. A lifetime of dealing with Aunt Agatha has made him the world's preeminent expert in "curl[ing] up in a ball in the hope that a meek subservience [will] enable [him] to get off lightly." He will NEVER go exploring in places he's been warned away from if nobody is forcing him to (Rev. Aubrey Upjohn's office notwithstanding. There were biscuits in there). He's both fun to talk to and easy to toy with (and extremely English). A+ prisoner. Dracula adores him.
In my opinion, Bertie is at Castle Dracula either because Aunt Agatha got some wires seriously crossed and thinks he’s going to meet an eligible potential bride (I mean, there are certainly brides there), or because Dracula has something Aunt Dahlia wants him to steal (far less likely, given that one of Dracula’s THINGS is famously not owning anything silver). Either way, he's shown himself entirely willing and able to escape down drainpipes if a sitch gets too scaly.
He DOES take the crucifix, and DOES wear it (which is what will save him during the shaving scene, because you KNOW he's going to jump a foot and cut himself like the dickens). He's read enough supernatural goosefleshers to be genre savvy about terrified old women cryptically pushing crucifixes into one's hands. I also think his sunny disposish endeared him to the villagers, and they were particularly vehement about urging him not to go. He doesn't speak German or Romanian, but he's empathetic enough to recognize Pure Terror. So by the time he actually gets to the castle, his imagination is already running wild and he's plenty aware that he is in imminent danger.
I think the biggest risk to Bertie will be the brides; whether or not he's susceptible to trances, if he thinks they're trying to marry him, it's against the code of the Woosters to turn them down. But that only becomes an issue if he comes face to face with them, which, luckily, I think is unlikely on account of the aforementioned "won't go exploring" (and if he did, Dracula would definitely rescue him).
I'm inclined to say due to his drainpipe-escape habits that he WOULD be able to climb the wall and MAY attempt to sneak into Dracula's room to look for the keys if his desperation grows to outweigh his fear. Whether he does or not, though, he does NOT have the stomach to attempt shovel murder, and therefore won't get magic brain fever, and may very well simply walk out the front doors when the people come to take the boxes away. OR he climbs his way out like Jonathan did. Either way.
When Bertie tells this story at the Drones later, Tuppy will say that no doubt it's been greatly exaggerated and all that probably happened was that he spent a couple months in an oldish house entertaining a weird loner.
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hoshigray · 1 day
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Pretty Please with a cherry and spinkles ontop😩🙏 I need a Pussymatized Toji. Absolutely infatuated with his FWB. He was the one that said no attachments until he got addicted to her.
𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: lmao, "pussymatized" is new, but i see the vision!!
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: fwb! Toji x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - kissing/making out - implied prior sex - backshots + missionary positions mentioned - oral (f! receiving) - feedbag position - multiple orgasms - Daddy kink - overstimulation - pet names (baby, good girl, mama, sweetie) - clitoral play (licking and sucking) - pussy-whipped! Toji - mention of spit and tears.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.1k
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Toji knew better. He’s done the whole friends with benefits gig plenty of times, and he knows the big rule that comes with the package:
Absolutely no feelings involved, or else the arrangement is off.
“Hoooh…! Ahhhn, T-Toji, stop…Not too fast!”
That is until he met you.
For about a year, you and Toji have been friends with benefits. It started as something Toji told you about, how he’d sleep around and get in those kinds of relationships. You were the one to ask if he’d be down to do it with you.
The onyx-headed one thought about it for a minute until he gave in and said sure. However, he stressed the “no feelings attached” policy intensely. He considered you a dear friend – a rarity in his life – and he didn’t want what you two were doing to damage this close relationship. It was just casual sex with a friend, nothing more. And you nodded to his regulation with a smile, moving your friendship to the next level.
Off the bat, the sex between you two was great! It had been a while since Toji had done stuff like this, and doing it with someone he could trust like you made the interaction smooth and entertaining. Problems between the two of you were rare, and it’s thanks to you two being mature adults that made handling this non-serious relationship easy!
Nevertheless, one thing made this cooperation difficult — at least on Toji’s part. The older man was becoming more and more infatuated with you.
He doesn’t know when it started getting this bad; Toji was never one to be the one catching feelings during these kinds of kinships. So, this was a bit new for him, and it made the poor man go crazy as the days went on. Him? Catching feelings?? Breaking his own rule??? Get real!
But he couldn’t lie to himself, it was all different since he was doing it with you. You were the closest person he could call a friend outside of Shiu, and that never changed once you two became fuck buddies. If anything, things have gotten a lot closer between you two. You cared for his kids while he was away, cooked meals for him because you feared he didn’t eat enough during the day, or invited him on grocery sprees. 
It wasn’t like you didn’t do stuff like that before. Yet now that you and Toji were doing things beyond a regular friendship, the man was seeing you in a new light that he hadn’t seen before, and God, it was suffocating him. He doesn’t know how many of your gorgeous smiles or sweet strings of laughter he can take before he snaps. 
But it wasn’t just your personality and gracious aura that lured him on. As mentioned before, the sex was amazing — No, scratch that; you were amazing. It had been a very long while since Toji had done sexual shit with someone who could reciprocate pleasure. Fuck, you felt so good, whether it was jerking or sucking him off while massaging his balls in your pretty hands, or bouncing on his cock with that tight cunt of yours that had him on the edge, holding on to your waist as he’d piston his cock deep inside. Merely thinking about churning your walls that snug on his cock had him gulp thickly, thinking a heavy sigh would get these thoughts out of his mind.
But they don’t, of course. Because he’d be damned if he’d try to forget the image of your beautiful body all hot and sweaty with his. Your moans and squeaks were all prompted by his thrusts, and – fucking Jesus – he could never get over the way you said his name, so desperate for him with watery, doe eyes that pull him in. Looking all disheveled and alluring for him and only him, peering over your shoulder when he’d hit it from behind like you wanted to see him feel good. Toji would’ve been a fool if he hadn’t fallen for you!
There was a time when Toji’d slip up and hold your hand as he chased release, noticing you catch the sight of his palm and integers gripping yours. Thinking you were uncomfortable, he removed his hand from yours, only for you to wrap your legs around his waist and bring him to you for a kiss. It was just a kiss, is what he’d say to justify it. But hearing you mewl under his lips and whisper to his ears was the last straw for him, hammering his dick and spilling his load into you as you two made out passionately.
Yeah, there was no doubt about it; the guy was falling for you hard.
So hard that he couldn’t stop thinking about you. It scared him a bit – the thought of you being his made his heart beat at a pace he hadn’t experienced in a long time. You corrupted his senses; he wanted to hear you, kiss you, feel you, smell you, taste you — fuck, did he want to taste you; it was so bad.
But it wasn’t as bad until you hadn’t stopped by for two weeks. You’d text him your apologies, saying that work caught you up and that you couldn’t see him and the kids. And even then, you’d still manage to throw a phone call before sleep, and Toji doesn’t know if that was better or worse. Your voice made his skin crawl, loving how you spoke to him all soft and fatigued yet affectionately. You were too good for him, having him feel guilty for fisting his cock unbeknownst to you.
He couldn’t take it anymore, being away from you. He could barely go through the first week, and the second had him itching to see you. That’s precisely what he did, calling you to let you know he’d come to see you. And once you opened the door to greet him with a warm smile, that last bit of thread in him had finally snapped.
“Nnmmah! Hic…shtooopp licking…! I’ll cum again, I’m gonna—!!”
After pulling you in for a hungry kiss, the man brought himself inside your apartment with you glued to him. Feverish pecks kept your lips on him, squeaking at how smoothly he picked you up and brought you to the living room couch. He’d suck on your neck while removing your bottoms, already stifling him with your fragrance to the point he shudders. 
He’d trail his kisses downwards, nibbling on certain areas that made you gasp for him, sucking on the skin of your inner thigh as his fingers rubbed on your folds covered by damp underwear. You had him on his knees, uncaring about the angle. His thoughts only thinking about the wet chasm he sees after discarding your panties. Nothing holds him back from plunging his face into your wetness and showing no signs of stopping when you’re wailing for him. He’d lick, lap, and suck on you with no remorse, face utterly stuck on your slit until you came for the first time. 
“—Ahhaa, I’m cummin’, Tojiii! OhJesusChrist—Nnnmoo!”
“Mmmph…! Fuck, c’mere, sweetie, lemme take care of you…”
And now, he’s chased you down for another climax, your legs tremble and your figure shakes as Toji’s tongue relentlessly pets around your labia, frantically licking your clit to expel more fluids to seep out your vagina.
And Toji drinks it all, stuffing his face into your inner thighs like breathing is not an issue. You cry and involuntarily try to close your legs as your nerves are at an all-time high, grabbing tuffs of raven hair. But the man doesn’t allow you to shy away, his strong hands keeping you grounded on the couch as he eats you out. They never leave your frame unless it’s to unzip his jeans to let his erection breathe. Your cute howls of pleasure, your delightful fluids painting his tongue and lips, and your intoxicating smell; all have his hard-on twitch painfully, precum staining his boxer briefs. 
He’s so far gone, his scarred lips kissing on your folds to gently juxtapose the tongue he uses to fuck you. You jerk and jolt, sobbing from the fervent mouth making sure every crevice of your cunt goes explored. Your orgasm still isn’t away, everything feels so sensitive that you feel like you could break.
“Tahhh, Toji, nooo,” you wail, trying to push his head from burrowing deeper between your thighs. Yet he shows no cooperation. “I just came, yer doing t’oo muuch…!”
Now, he finally removes his face from you, his chin wet with your essence which he licks from his lips. “Sorry, mama,” his rich emerald eyes lock with yours, they have you freeze under his gaze. “But I’m not done yet.” You shake your head, inching your hips away from his proximity. But he captures your waist and slides you back down. “Don’t,” he pleads, placing your legs on his shoulders. “One more time fr’ me, ‘kay, baby? Let Daddy have ya one more time.”
An excruciatingly slow lick from down your slit to your clitoris has you quiver, sloppy kisses further the mess of saliva and come between your legs, and you can’t control the throbbing sensation that returns to ache your inner walls. He chuckles, “Look at ya winkin’ at me, guess ya want more of me too, huh, sweetie?” He makes your ears ring and hot, throwing your head back when he spits and sucks on your clit harshly.
This time, Toji straightens his back a bit to lift your legs with him, hands securing you close to him on your hips. It was a view you hadn’t mentally prepared for, seeing your weight be supported easily. 
He continues to lap around your labia, taking in all the excess slick to suck on, not leaving any drop go undiscovered. His precision has you roll your eyes to the ceiling, a hand griping on his wrist as he rubs on your clit.
“Ohhhfuuuck,” your words were slurring together, brain too mushy to cooperate and form eligible sentences. The man between your legs makes that hard enough. You don’t even attempt to squirm out because Toji’s lips will latch right back onto you. “Daddyyy, right there…More, pleasee.”
“Good girl,” he praises, rewarding you with swirls circling your clitoris before a suck, and your legs cross around to push him further. “That’s my girl…Mmmm, fuckin’ Christ, taste too good…” His deep voice sends vibrations up your spine, chewing on your lip when his tongue nestles in between your soaked folds again.
He pushes the wet muscle back inside, groaning at the sensation of you clamping onto him and bucking your hips in his direction. Your cries fill the quiet space, his name coming out in rushed prayers was the only thing that occupies his eardrums. Fuck, he missed this so fucking bad, arms wrapping around your waist as he pushes his face deep, his nose bumping to the hoop of your pearl while he ravishes your insides.
The squelches of his tongue and lips are so raunchy and nasty, you feel like filth being used like this. You’ve long given up the control to conceal your moans, and Toji listens to every single one with intent. 
“—Ohhh! Ffsshiiit…!” Oh, no. You can feel it, the next wave climbing up. “Daddy, again! Gonna cum again, I cann’t...!”
“Yes, you can, mama,” he coos, blowing on your slick-covered lips. “Just a lil’ more fr’ me, ‘kay? Just let it out.” His mouth returns to erratically fuck you with his tongue, and his gruff moans are felt on your body. The pressure of your thighs squeezing him makes it better, hitting your delicate clit with gentle jabs that rock you into your third orgasm.
You scream, unleashing yourself as your climax rocks your being. Toji has a good hold on you, softly using the flat of his tongue to lazily lick your cunt, massaging your waist as your hips ride on his face. And it doesn’t help that the older man’s cock is oozing on his briefs, his thighs twitching with his erection wanting to be freed.
With a dangerous last kiss to your sensitive folds, Toji places your legs back onto the couch, wiping your come off his chin to lick his fingers clean before bringing his jeans and briefs.
“Wh..What’s gotten into you,” you ask with furrowed brows and hooded eyes like his, both misty with wanton thirst. “I see you’ve been more pent up than me.” He chortles at your jest, and you happily accept the tip of his cock into your mouth with a blissful hum.
“You have no idea, baby…”
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ✩ dividers by @/benkeibear.
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So while I do think it is important that Majora's Mask doesn't have a direct Ganondorf counterpart, it is really interesting that it does have another red haired king trying to get a powerful artifact inside of a temple. This starting a battle that he continues to lose for hundreds of years, surrounded by a kingdom so far declined that it's nothing but death and rot. A king who also has two bickering subordinates, defeated shortly before him. A king who teaches Link how to become a shell of himself, like how someone would feel if they lost 7 years of their life, and then were forced to fight and kill a man when they were only a child...
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turtleblogatlast · 2 days
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Small but significant character moments that I actually really adore are from both the times we see the boys as tots. There is a reoccurrence that happens in both of them that I find so incredibly interesting.
For the turtle tot short, Splinter leaves the boys with weapons. In the short, Raph is the one who suggests they do “what Lou Jitsu would do” and Leo is the one who takes point when Splinter comes back to reprimand them. Leo, in taking point, is the one to defend them and get Splinter off their tails.
And then, in the flashback regarding the Kuroi Yōroi helmet, Raph is the one who grabs and throws “Skully” as a way to replace their missing ball which breaks it into pieces, but Leo is the one who speaks for the group and rushes into action to fix the teapot.
I love this for multiple reasons, but the biggest are how it shows that Raph has always been inclined toward the bold and fun and making the plans to include his brothers in what he loves and believes they’d love, whereas Leo has always been inclined to be the “Face” of the group and shoulder the attention even if it’s potentially negative all while coming up with on the spot attempts to fix the situation.
#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt raph#rottmnt leo#rise Raph#rise leo#I really do love this bit of character writing a ton#again it’s so small but like this is consistent!#little Raph just wanted to have fun with his bros 😭#Leo immediately coming in with the save both times (and more - remember Bug Busters?)#I really love too how none of them pointed fingers like#it was Understood that Leo would speak for them#listen there’s a reason Leo is the Face Man and it’s NOT just because he’s got a pretty face#he can talk both himself and his fam out of situations and I wish we saw it even more because it’s amazing to witness#circling back to Raph his bold nature is something I ADORE about him but I don’t see it brought up a lot which makes me so sad#like this boy is a RAPHAEL he is bold!!#and it’s cute too how the other bros immediately go along with it too#imo the Raph in these tot flashback is the same Raph that glues them all together as a bonding exercise#side note but damn…Leo saves them from punishment in the tot short and immediately gets jumped 😔#but yeah man I think a Lot about the little dynamics between the bros and how those dynamics could have first came into being#Leo being the face of the team and having been it since childhood-#-makes all the moments of immediately choosing to sacrifice himself when HE royally messes up all the more notable#if it’s one bro or the whole group individually he’s more chill about it but often still lets himself be the talker to get them out of it#he will do his damndest to get his brothers and himself out of trouble but once they’re in it he’s in the front with a smile#his own safety be damned#Raph is actually the same in that respect - he’ll jump into danger fists first but all bets are off when a brother is in danger#and like how Leo’s been the face - as the eldest Raph has been the de facto leader of sorts#he’s the one who is shown to make up their games! and I think that’s very cute#anyway their clashing in the movie is so interesting for a lot of reasons but one of them is that it shows how-#-even a longstanding dynamic like Raph and Leo’s that’s WORKED for so long is still susceptible to flaws…and to time
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moineauz · 2 days
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જ⁀ 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔 , various !
synopsis: his voice lines about you as his beloved partner
including: veritas, jing yuan, blade
side comments: dw i promise i'm working on the house of musica requests... i just wanted to do this for fun! also this is the first time I've written for jing yuan which is kinda funny. i liked writing for blade again. originally i had welt and aventurine in the mix but i wanted to post this hahaha.
extra: gn reader, angsty and fluffy moments, mentions of marriage, aventurine jumpscare later favourites: blade word count: roughly 2,085+
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𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎
WHO ARE THEY? I "So you're asking about my significant other? Are you shocked that I have a significant other? At the very least consider your question."
FIRST MEETINGS? "I met Professor ( Name ) when they barged into my lecture, they said they were 'lost'. Since then we had several heated debates academically. Have I lost in these debates? Several times yes, consequently making debating with them all the more... interesting. Especially considering that Professor ( Name ) has a well-rounded vault of knowledge in most subjects of academic and social relevance. Finally, a conversation worth my time.
GREETINGS? "Professor ( Name ) considers a good greeting the highest attribute. A curt smile and a cup of coffee suffice, thankfully they know when to remain silent. However, there are instances when they will talk relentlessly. Initially, I used my headpiece around them. Nevertheless, their conversations do occasionally convey subtle insightfulness and definite meaning. Gradually I have come to share some liking towards their rather pleasant 'small talk'."
PARTINGS? "A small kiss on the cheek: be it on my skin or the headpiece, that is all. However, I... have always preferred it on the skin."
ABOUT US: ART "Outside of ( Name's ) academic career, they share a peculiar fondness for art. Be it painting or sculptures they could very well get lost in a museum. When they discovered my fondness for sculptures and anatomy, they were... oddly quiet; tracing their hands over my sculptures- or my face to be exact. ( Name's ) admiration is always shown in silence, one of the greatest forms of praise.
ABOUT US: TRUE APPEARANCES "I have questioned how ( Name ) has perceived our relationship. Considering that we are both colleagues, it can lead to speculation amongst other *sighs* inappropriate comments. Hence, I prefer to keep our relationship known only to those who need to. I believe them to be devout and... undoubtedly caring. I hope my attitude towards them conveys a similar message.
CHAT: WORK "Although we teach different subjects, we occasionally mark or review the work of our students. You may call it a 'second opinion'. Thus, their opinion is one that I trust."
CHAT: SERVICE "( Name's ) actions can initially appear simple-minded. However, underneath simplicity, lies thoughtfulness beyond comparison in both work... and at our residence.
PASTIMES DONE TOGETHER? "Film is not an art I deliberately take part in or seek out for leisure. However, ( Name ) was quite adamant and passionate about film. Thus, we've watched a myriad amount of films and TV shows together, both acclaimed and disdained. I have my own varying opinions. I must admit, after a long bath, a film in bed is quite soothing. Considering that ( Name ) similarly enjoys the pleasure of a bath, our nighttime routine is undoubtedly satisfying."
ARGUMENTS: "One must always think before they speak for there is a price to pay. ( Name's ) silence is decisive, deliberate and painful; burning right through your chest. Debates are loud, quarrels are bitterly silent."
SOMETHING TO SHARE: "Solitude is the greatest gift to civilization and self: introspection enlarges the expanse of the mind. However, the pursuit of knowledge is not only found in discovery and text. It is through experience alone. I have found much knowledge in solitude and an equal amount through genuine companionship. Hence, I share my deepest revere. "
WHO ARE THEY? II "My lover. That is who they are to me and all you need to know."
EXTRA: AVENTURINE'S OPINION "I met Ratio's lover when I visited for business matters. But, all that went out of the door! I saw a lovely individual by his desk and thought, 'Who is this?' Ratio never, and I mean never, allows anyone to screw his desk up. Yet, here they were, seated at the edge of his desk toying with his stupid chalk greeting me with a bright smile. We immediately hit off. I suppose Ratio does have some luck in him, but then again, ( Name ) was the one who first asked him out. Less to do with luck, and more to do with destiny. In my opinion, destiny is not something I fully believe in, however, when I watch Ratio and ( Name ), it's difficult to imagine a universe where they aren't together."
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𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍
WHO ARE THEY? I "You are looking for Commander ( Name )? Sadly they're on a business trip, however, I'd be happy to answer in their place."
FIRST MEETINGS? "( Name ) is an interesting soul. I've heard of their praised skills in combat and decisive thinking. Many assume I met them on the battlefield. Yet, I met them over a coincidental cup of tea."
GREETINGS? “I find it amusing how our everyday greetings have evolved. At first it was a salute. However, I find that a kiss on the cheek is a much more efficient way of greeting and brightening up the mundane tasks *sighs* of work.”
PARTINGS? “Why bid farewell when one hasn’t said hello? Partings have always been bitter. Yet, I find comfort in knowing that all things lead back from whence they came.”
ABOUT US: AGE “Time for long life species is fickle and plainly slow. Despite that, ( Name ) has constantly made time— less daunting and more fun. ( Name’s ) life span… is a touch shorter than that of myself. Hence, they have brought forth a new value in every passing year to which I cherish. This year I plan on doing something special for their birthday— though, don’t tell them that.”
ABOUT US: SILENCE "As much as ( Name ) glows in social settings, they equally enjoy stillness, if not more. There never is any obligation to fill the void when we're together. It is as natural of an act as breathing.
CHAT: PRODUCTIVITY "( Name ) likes to be on task. I, however, don't always find leisure in such activities. ( Name ) quote, 'holds me accountable'. Of course, there are moments in which I can distract them."
CHAT: FELINES "They are quite fond of Mimi. Unfortunately, Mimi is rather... aggressive when around ( Name ) and has been for a considerable amount of time. One time ( Name ) was attempting to bargain with Mimi for her favour. *Chuckles* What a sight.
PASTIMES DONE TOGETHER? "Master Diviner Fu Xuan would frown upon it... but I suppose napping on the Seat of Divine Foresight is considered a 'pastime' when done regularly enough."
ARGUMENTS: "I do not attempt to quell the frustrations of my dearest. It is not often they disclose them to me and it does pain me to be the cause of their anger. Nevertheless, if it means the two of us will grow closer, then I will gladly offer myself to the brute force of my dearest. Of course, the swelling of regret still stains the heart."
SOMETHING TO SHARE: I've lived one life yet many all at once. Companions scattered amongst the universe and enemies whose names I've gradually forgotten. Yet, underneath the breath of my dearest, I'm simply a man in his spouse's embrace. Nothing else matters."
WHO ARE THEY? II "My most loving spouse."
EXTRA: FU XUAN'S OPINION "When Commander ( Name ) came into the Seat of Divine Foresight to help the General... he grew all the more 'lazy'. A part of me feels sympathetic towards Commander ( Name ), imagine having your own spouse bully you into doing your work? Alas, it's not my business to speak about their marital life. Besides, the two go hand in hand, like a puzzle piece clicking together. Both can do well without, but when joined together, they are a force to be reckoned with."
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𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄
WHO ARE THEY? I "Their weapon may be thin, but it pierces holes even in the most... stubborn of enemies."
FIRST MEETINGS? "Elio's script is always followed. However, ( Name ) is a detail I did not anticipate or was foretold. My body met the tip of their spear before I saw their face."
GREETINGS? "Over time ( Name ) has grown close to the Stellaron Hunters- especially Kafka. Their presence is imminent despite not being a Stellaron Hunter themselves. ( Name ) smiles whenever we meet, it has always been more than enough."
PARTINGS? "My promised end will come, yet an absurd inkling of regret remains."
ABOUT US: THE BLADE "( Name ) believes the blade to be a form of art. They had said, 'The blade dances in air with undisturbed poise and precision, a kind of mercy not known to themselves.' I asked them why they chose a spear then. They replied, 'Because I could never dare replicate it's beauty.'"
ABOUT US: WOUNDS "( Name ) never wanted to be a traveller, rather, they opted to string fabrics together with a needle and thread. Perhaps that is where their skills come from."
CHAT: MIDNIGHT "The mara is like a ghost. Yet, ( Name ) is a fool. They embrace the ghost I can't seem to remember other than its bottomless spite and fear."
CHAT: SCARS "Their hands never 'keep to themselves'. ( Name ) prefers to trace their hands over surfaces and make shapes. They tend to draw stars... so many stars."
PASTIMES DONE TOGETHER? "When there are no missions, we sleep in silence. Under the guise of sleep and their warmth, immortality does not follow me."
ARGUMENTS: "When all is said and done, silence remains."
SOMTHING TO SHARE: "If there is life after death, then I wish to meet them in the same manner, again and again with that smile and spear."
WHO ARE THEY II? "The person who taught me how to breathe and pressed their lips against my skin."
EXTRA: KAFKA'S OPINION "Blade will never admit it. But, ( Name ) cares for Blade and Blade does too. The pair will never put a name to the push and pull between them. I caught Bladie once; staring out into the open universe searching for something with a spark of life that doesn't belong to a dead body. I wonder if ( Name ) put that there."
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daycourtofficial · 2 days
Text
His shadows know
Pairing: Azriel x reader | WC: 3.8k | Warnings: none
Summary: His shadows knew you were mates before either of you did and they do everything they can to push the two of you together.
Author’s note: happy 2k kick off day!!! 🎉 this is actually the oldest draft I have - I began writing this in October I think? I loved the idea but got stuck for so long on where to take it so shout out to @tsunami-of-tears for reading it and giving me feedback - this story would be lost to time without you thank you thank you thank you
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Being a scholar in the Winter Court had several perks - your home had a rich and deep history, you spent most of your time reading, and you became great friends with your High Lord and newly appointed High Lady - Kallias and Viviane. Your friendship had great perks, one of which was their allowance for you to travel with them to the Night Court. 
Rhysand had spent centuries keeping up the appearance that it was a terrible place to live, that the people were terrible, everything was terrible, leading to none of the high lords ever spending time in the Night Court. After Velaris became known to the other high lords, Viviane wrote immediately to Mor asking for the chance to see the city of starlight. Mor immediately agreed, also requesting for you to come as well. You and Mor were friendly, but she liked you and knew you would love the city.
The three of you winnowed together, being greeted by Rhys, Feyre, and Mor upon your arrival. After some pleasantries, Kallias and Rhysand started speaking about some political matter, so you slipped out and started wandering around the palace, admiring the beautiful architecture and paintings lining the walls. Many portraits hung in front of you - some depicting battles, some depicting members of the royal family. 
You were stopped at a beautiful portrait of their newest addition, Nyx, when you felt a little tug on your arm. You looked down to find the cutest little blob of darkness dancing around your arm. It tickled as it swirled and skittered across your skin. The little shadow made the rounds around your body, swirling around your arms, your waist, your legs - as if it was checking to make sure everything’s okay.
“You are adorable” you whispered to it, when a second and third one appeared. “How many of you are there?” You whispered, unsure if it can even respond.
“There’s no keeping count of them. Or keeping track of them, I suppose.”
The voice startles you and the shadows, who wrap around you, almost trying to guide you to the voice. You turn to see the most devastatingly beautiful male you’ve ever seen - dark, sun-kissed skin covered large muscular arms, massive membranous wings behind him. Light poured behind him allowing the wings to look almost pink from the stretched skin, but everywhere else behind him was cloaked in shadows that moved lazily, slithering across his shoulders.
Hazel eyes look down at you, a smirk on his face.
“Are you in charge of them, I suppose?” You ask, a smile grazing your lips.
“I wouldn’t say that. They don’t always listen to me. They seem to like you, though.”
While you were speaking, a few more joined to inspect you, fast blurs of darkness roaming your skin leaving goosebumps in their cold wake.
“Hmm, maybe they see me as a threat. I can be quite frightening, you know.”
“Frightening? Yes, I can see you’re trying to pinpoint your next target. Unfortunately, I do believe you are wasting your time. Studying Nyx’s portrait won’t help you determine his weaknesses.”
“I’ve actually uncovered quite a lot about his weaknesses from his portrait.”
“Pray tell,” he leans against the wall, studying your face.
“I think his weaknesses include both nap time and bed time, along with his incredibly short legs. Dare I say, he’d be very easy to pick up and maneuver.”
“Unfortunately, you’ve picked a target that is so heavily protected you may never get the chance to see him.”
Your face lights up in delight, “so I am a frightening threat? Why else go through the trouble to hide him from me?”
“Nyx doesn’t like strangers,” his tone was so matter of fact, the shadows peered over his shoulders to watch the exchange.
“Hmm, you could introduce us. Then it’ll be a fair fight.”
“Unfortunately for you, I believe he is napping. And disturbing him from a nap is the worst part of my job.”
“So it is part of your job to wake him up?”
“I have to train him against all these frightening threats that wander the halls.”
“I only see one frightening threat.”
The shadows began dancing between you two, pulling you both closer and closer, until you realized you could put your hand out and touch his face. Your fingers twitched slightly at the intrusive thought.
“And does this frightening threat have a name.”
“Y/n.”
He smiles at your name - you assume he already knew who you were, he just wanted you to say it for whatever reason.
“And does the one who has the terrifying job of waking Nyx have a name?”
“Azriel.”
“And you also aren’t in charge of the shadows, but you provide them with suggestions?”
He laughs as he says, “They usually listen to me, especially when I command them, but sometimes they just find something they like and want to investigate.”
“Is that what happened? They wanted to investigate me?”
“Yes.”
“Why? Did they like what they found out in their investigation?”
“Sometimes they investigate pretty things or things they’ve never seen before. They won’t tell me why they came after you, but they tell me they like you.”
“Can you tell them that I like them? Or can they hear me when I talk to them?”
“They can hear you, you just can’t really hear them.”
“They’re very beautiful.” You were talking about the shadows, of course. Definitely not also about the male in front of you.
“Yes they are.” He says, gazing into your eyes, perhaps speaking about more than just the shadows.
The spell between your shared gaze is broken when a door opens and Mor comes running down the hall. “Oh, good, Az found you. We thought you got lost somewhere,” she sounded out of breath, as if she were roaming the halls for you.
“I’m sorry, Mor, you know I love to wander.” You look at Azriel, his hazel eyes meeting your gaze. “You never know what you’ll find.”
-
It had been a long day. Velaris was stunning, a beautiful gem in an otherwise terrifying sounding court, but you desperately need a warm bath and a few moments of peace. You adored Viviane and Kallias, but you needed to be away from him for a few hours. You needed peace and quiet.
And maybe a few moments to think about the beautiful male you were flirting with earlier.
You prepared yourself a bath, lowering your entire body into the warm water. You tilt your head back, enjoying the warmth on your aching muscles from walking around the palace all day, when you see out of the corner of your eye a tiny little shadow.
“Hello, sweetie,” you coo towards it. You can’t help it - they’re absolutely adorable. They remind you of little pets, but less messy or noisy. One or two of them had followed you around during the day. You weren’t sure if anyone else noticed or not, especially because you didn’t see Azriel again for the rest of the day.
The shadow came to the edge of the bathtub, climbing up your arm, nestling into your hair. “You are a silly little thing aren’t you?” You ask it, with no response. “Will you ever speak to me?” You ask, again with no response. “Will you keep me company?” The shadow didn’t necessarily respond, but you felt the shadow’s agreement as it nestled further into your hair as you sank into the bath once more.
After your bath, with the shadow still keeping you company, you put on a nightgown and decided you wanted to go down to the kitchen to look for some cookies, certain that Rhysand would only have the highest quality of late night snacks. You reiterate your thoughts to the shadow, when the shadow holds you back by your wrist for a moment.
“Is everything alright?” The shadow keeps a hold on you, not letting you go. A moment or two passes, and the shadow lets go, causing you to move forward a little. “I can go now?” You ask, which the shadow ignores again, but doesn’t keep you in place any longer. You walk to the door, opening it only to collide directly into someone.
“I’m so sorry I-“ you’re cut off by the laugh of the beautiful Azriel.
“It’s okay,” he says, and you take this opportunity to glance down and you realize he’s wearing a loose pair of trousers with no shirt on. His bare chest was just as beautiful as the rest of him - black ink trailed across his shoulders in an abstract way that your eyes lingered on. If you weren’t so preoccupied by checking him out, you might have noticed the shadows surrounding him, trying to slow him down.
A small blush creeps down your cheeks as you ask, “is your uh tiny general happy and napping?”
He smirks and says “well I’m not sure about how happy he is, but Cassian is definitely asleep. He’s kept on a separate floor because of how loud he snores.”
You hit him in the chest, “you know I wasn’t talking about - wait he sleeps on a different floor? Is it really that bad?”
He motions for you to follow him up the stairs, and before you’re even halfway up, you hear impossibly loud snoring. “Oh,” you giggle, “yeah I’m not sure how anyone sleeps in the same city block as him.”
“You have no idea. Cassian’s really susceptible to pollen, so during the spring time it’s absolutely ridiculous. We once banned him for a week so we could all sleep.”
You laugh, and then try to shush yourself so he doesn’t wake up. “Stop - if I laugh I’ll wake him up.”
“What are you doing up?” He asks, his hazel eyes looking down at you with such fondness you wanted to curl up in his gaze and rest in it for a while.
“Oh I wanted cookies, actually.” You reply. “Why are you awake?”
He stammers a little, not wanting you to know that he was walking by your door to see if you were still awake. He had wanted to see you again, your earlier encounter occupying his thoughts all day long, when he assumed you had turned in for the night.
“Uh, I was doing a patrol.” He settled on.
“Oh yeah? Wanted to make sure the terrifying threat was contained?”
He smirked, “what do you think I’m doing now? I figure if I feed the threat, it might spare me.” He gives you the sweetest looking puppy dog face, and you have no idea where it came from, but it absolutely melts your heart.
“Stop that!” you say, while hitting his chest.
“Stop what?” He says, continuing his pouting.
“You look like a sad puppy dog, stop!”
“Will it make the frightening threat not want to kill me?”
“Hmm, the frightening threat will leave you be, for now.”
You two head into the kitchen, and he immediately starts searching through cupboards.
“Mor and Cassian have the best cookies,” he says, while reaching the higher shelves to pull out random boxes that contain cookie tins.
“I didn’t know being a spymaster included knowing everyone’s taste in cookies.” 
“You never know what might become necessary information.”
He looked down at you, offering you a cookie. You accepted it, and as your hands were connected by the cookie, a few shadows danced around your arms to some unheard song. He seemed a little surprised at them, his mouth dropping just slightly.
“Are they always this kind to night court guests?” You asked, nibbling on the cookie.
“Only the pretty ones.”
“And do you always flirt with night court guests?”
He leaned in closer, “only the pretty ones.”
You took a step closer, until you’re almost touching noses.
“And do you always commit crimes with your guests?”
His breath was fanning your face. It smelled of sugar cookie and mint, and you think about what it would feel like to inhale him.
“Only you.”
He pulled out a cookie and offered it to your mouth, which you happily accepted. You don’t break eye contact as you grab the cookie with your mouth, pulling it from his fingers.
“I can’t say I’ve indulged in criminal activity with anyone else.”
His grin grows as you bite into the cookie, a few crumbs falling but a few shadows swoop down to catch them before depositing them in the trash.
“Good. I am in charge of catching criminals in the night court, and I’d hate to have to catch you and lock you up.”
A blush spread over your cheeks. You opened your mouth to respond, when Azriel straightened, his wings going rigid.
“Hide the evidence.” He whispered, as he pulled back and quietly put the cookies away back where they came from. Before you can ask him about the abrupt change, you hear loud footsteps coming down the stairs into the kitchen, before seeing Cassian appear.
He looked at the two of you, surprised that anyone else was awake at this hour. Now he was hoping the two of you wouldn’t stay too long so he could reach his secret stash of cookies.
-
During the afternoon the next day, your little shadow companion kept following you around, almost acting as a guide dog. When you came down for breakfast, it guided you into the seat next to where Azriel was sitting, even guiding your hand to grab an apple at the same time as him, causing your fingers to brush against each other. 
Currently the shadow was dragging you through the hallways of the house, into what appeared to be a massive library. It guided you to sit in a chair at a table where there seemed to be some paperwork piled on top. The shadow left you for a moment, returning with a book for you.
“Ah, thank you,” you say, petting at the shadow. It curled around your finger in reciprocation before slithering back into your hair. You began reading the book, only getting a chapter in when someone sat across the table from you.
“The threat has found where I liked to do work,” Azriel stated, looking through his papers. You smiled up at him, “I have to be prepared to strike at any moment, you know.”
He chuckled, a soft look on his face. “Well, if you plan to attack in the library, please try to keep noise levels to a minimum, Clotho gets very upset when I cause too much noise. I’m on thin ice with her.”
“Oh, I see. You have a reputation for hosting parties down here,” you muse.
He looks at you, a lazy grin on his face, “my parties are known across Prythian, only the best, most exclusive guests may attend my library events.”
“And am I on the guest list?” You ask, leaning against the table. “Of course,” he replied, leaning towards you over the table, “you might be a threat, but I’ve heard you’re one hell of a dancer.”
You laugh loudly, then remember where you are and try to quiet down. “I’ll have you know that I’m a lousy dancer, but I would be very interested in attending one of your parties anyway.”
-
The longer you stayed, the more the shadows kept maneuvering around you. Instead of just one you now had a small trio who accompanied you everywhere, hiding in your hair, wisping around your neck and wrists like jewelry when you were alone.
One night at dinner, you’re seated next to Azriel for the fourth evening in a row. You’re not sure if any of his family members pick up on this, but Kallias and Viviane also sit in the same place each night, so perhaps it wasn’t anything noteworthy.
“Can you pass me the potatoes please?”
You knew if you turned to the right, Azriel’s face would be right next to yours and your noses would be able to touch.
“Of course, can’t give you any reason not to trust me.” You winked at him, reaching over for the potatoes. When you turn back, Azriel’s expression has changed ever so slightly, and his eyes search for your face, something you can’t quite pinpoint in his eyes.
“Here you are,” you say, moving the bowl towards him.
“Here I am,” he says, not reaching for the bowl, instead keeping his gaze fixed on you. You laugh, expecting there to be some joke, but he keeps his gaze fixed on you and you find it impossible to breathe with the way he’s looking at you.
Surely someone else notices the way you two are locked in this embrace, but when you quickly glance around the table, no one seems to notice or care.
He reached for the potatoes and looked at them. “How can I be sure you didn’t poison these?”
You laugh, the spell of the moment gone, and you’re able to think properly again.
“I guess you’ll never know.”
He placed the bowl down, smirking. “Better not take any chances then.”
The rest of the dinner continued, everyone amused at Nyx’s babbling and insistence of sitting in Cassian’s lap despite how many times he’s put back into his own high chair, and yet your eyes kept finding those potatoes Azriel never ate, the bowl untouched since he took it from your hands.
-
A quick knock to your door the next morning stops you from packing, and you stride over to open it. “Hi, Azriel,” you say, leaving the door open for him to come in as you turn back around to put your folded clothes away. Several of his shadows move towards you, trying to unfold your clothes when you aren't looking.
“Leaving so soon?” he asks, shutting the door behind him gently, turning back to you with his hands in his pockets. You swat at the shadows, refolding their undoing.
“Unfortunately, my trip always had an expiration date attached to it.”
You breathe deeply, trying to ignore how good he smells when you feel him come up behind you, his chest close enough that you can feel his body heat through your clothes. From behind you, he lifts one of his hands up, almost touching you, but not quite getting far enough before retracting his hand.
He clears his throat, “what did you think of my home court?”
You smile, doing the latches on your luggage. “It’s quite beautiful. Do you get all four seasons here?”
He nods his head in agreement when you turn to face him, not noticing the shadows behind you undoing the latches to your suitcase and unpacking once more for you. “That must be nice,” you muse, “I love Winter, but I am quite tired of the cold.”
“I’m used to the cold, growing up in the mountains you grow quite accustomed to it.”
“Then you’d feel comfortable visiting me in the Winter Court?”
Azriel’s ears reddened at the brazen ask, “I can’t imagine visiting you anywhere and not feeling at ease.”
It was your turn for your ears to redden, but Azriel doesn’t let the silence linger for long. 
“Before you go, can I tell you something?”
Surprise overcomes your face, intrigued by his question. You nod, desperate to know what he has to say before you leave. He looked behind you, watching his shadows unpack your bag and put your clothes back where they had come from in the drawers.
“I was very drawn to you when we first met.”
He clears his throat, his wings twitching with nerves. “I was literally dragged to you. I was winnowing elsewhere, but my shadows brought me next to you. I was intrigued why they’d do such a thing,” one of the offending shadows gently passes over his cheek before making its way to greet you.
“They’re funny little things. I thought they were just annoyed with me because I wasn’t sleeping. And then you spoke to me. You were so relaxed with me, immediately. It’s not- most fae aren’t relaxed around me. And I really liked you.”
“I like you too, Azriel.”
He holds up a hand, silently telling you he’s not quite finished. You hold your hands up in mock surrender, allowing him to continue.
“And then you were everywhere. In the hallway, next to me at meals, on the balconies when I landed. It’s like you knew where I’d be.
“Last night at dinner, when I asked you for the potatoes.. I didn’t eat them after you gave them to me.”
You cock your head to the side, confused at this admission over something as minor as potatoes. “Did you change your mind?”
“No, no. I just- I just- the second you were about to hand them to me, I felt it.”
“You felt it?” Confusion coursed through you, completely unsure of where he was going. You enunciated each word, curious over what ‘it’ was.
“I felt it.” His tone held more conviction, but you weren’t any less confused by what he was talking about.
“What did you feel?”
“This.” And you felt a sharp tug in your chest, pulling you towards him, almost knocking you off of your feet. You gasp, holding your arms out to steady yourself, your hands meeting his chest instead.
“That- what- I-“ you look around frantically, unsure exactly of what that was. You look up, finding soft, slight amusement in his hazel eyes. Shadows swarmed around the two of you, circling your arms, your legs, your fingers. They seemed to be saying something, and you closed your eyes to listen.
Mate. Mate. Mate. 
You close your eyes, looking deep into your chest, searching for that rope, that tether between your souls. It was shadow and ice, wrapped around each other for as far as you could see.
You gave it a sharp tug, and it was Azriel’s turn to lurch forward. You laugh at his stumbling, holding his elbows to keep him steady.
“Is your offer still valid - for me to visit you in Winter?”
“Only if I can come visit you here, mate.”
Azriel’s knees nearly gave out at the name, the title he’s wanted for centuries. And here you were, right in front of him. 
His hand moved hesitantly toward your face, lingering close enough that you could feel the chill from his hand. You nuzzled your cheek into his hand, looking up at him. This beautiful, kind male was your mate.
You had known him for four days - you hardly knew him, hardly knew anything about him or his homeland. But that was okay. You knew his shadows well enough by now.
They were a pretty good judge of character.
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Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main
Azriel taglist: @brieflyclassymortal @thisiskaylin
Thanks for reading! 💕
1K notes · View notes
sunrizef1 · 2 days
Text
Speak for Yourself
Pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader
Authors Note: not edited woohoo, back to your regularly scheduled programming, planning to shut up now lol
Word count: 4.6k I think
Warnings: light cursing, AUS 24, not edited, inaccurate information regarding f2 seasons for the sake of the plot
Summary: You’d been around as long as Logan had, it was no time until one of the drivers developed a crush on you. Oscar had thought it was obvious you weren’t single. Guess not.
—————————————————
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Growing up, Oscar had always known he was quieter than a lot of his friends. He’d just rather keep to himself than be loud in his day-to-day life. Even Logan was considered loud when around the Aussie, and considering Logan was pretty quiet himself, that was impressive.
Everyone around him knew he preferred to be private. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to share things with his friends and family, it was just that having his own life was more convenient.
One of the things he’d always been private about, was his relationships. He’d had girlfriends growing up, none of them really sticking around too long as the times changed.
But then he met you. 2018. Logan had introduced you as his best friend, Oscar decided not to be offended. You were the opposite of the Australian. You were loud and happy and Oscar was absolutely captivated by you. He’d asked Logan if he was allowed to ask you out and the American had just laughed with a nod, Oscar practically running over to you the second the race was over.
Of course, you were 17 so Oscar didn’t exactly have the emotional maturity to realize he was in love with you at the time. It only took him six months to say it out loud, though. Three years later and you two were still going strong, Oscars career only moving upwards as he raced through the 2021 F2 season.
Logan had been trying to find a way to get you a job with him the whole season. You’d just agreed, choosing to follow him around for a whole year as he moved through different series. He’d never have told Oscar but he’d needed your support more than anything. Just having to cycle through seats and races and series had drained him, you needing to practically talk him off the ledge multiple times throughout the year.
But you did get a few races with Oscar. Toward the end of the year, Logan got to race alongside his friend, meaning you got to hang out with your boyfriend. Your boyfriend, who was looking likely to win the entire championship.
“Are you nervous?” You hummed under your breath, your words echoing around the silence of the dark hotel room. You feel Oscar shift behind you, his arm tightening around your torso. The next morning, he’d be racing to win the championship, hopes and dreams laid out before him.
“I don’t think so,” he pauses, contemplating his words, “I think I was. Not anymore though, I’ve got you with me. That’s enough for me.”
You take a second to think through his words before a grin splits your face, skin heating up as the sentence sinks in, “I love you, Osc.”
The man in question shifts again, swinging his other arm around to wrap you tighter in his hold, “I love you too.”
You eventually fall asleep, letting the quiet of the room paired with the sound of the beating heart behind you, lull you to bed.
The next day, Oscar wins the championship, your loud yells sounding uncharacteristically quiet in the cacophony of screaming voices that surround you. He doesn’t sprint over to you or anything, big gestures not really his style. But he does make eye contact with you with a warming smile once he steps out of the car and that’s enough for you to know exactly how he feels in that moment.
Logan, though, is being very weird. You were sat in your boyfriend’s room, watching Logan practically wear a hole in the carpet with his constant pacing. He walked back and forth through the room with an absent mind and shaky hands. Throughout the year you’d been forced to follow him around, you somehow hadn’t seen him this nervous the whole time. Impressive considering he’d met about 100 very important people in the span of about two weeks.
“What’s your problem?” Logan’s eyes snap toward you, eyebrows shooting up as he looks at you with wide eyes.
“Nothing,” you roll your eyes at his quickly worded response, he didn’t seem to be in a too concerning state of being so you opted to leave him alone. He’d be fine eventually. He’d also looked about the same last week when the Dolphins had almost lost. He’d recovered from that too.
Your head instead turns toward where the door has just opened. You watch your boyfriend walk through, his gaze immediately catching on the weirdo pacing in the corner.
“Hi, Logan?” Oscar hums with a confused look on his face. Logans gaze locks onto the older Aussie, a stupid grin splitting the Americans face.
“Congrats, Oscar. Have a great evening,” Logan says, slapping his friend on the shoulder. The dumb grin is back on the blond man’s face, proving your earlier hypothesis that he’d heal from his paranoia relatively quickly.
Oscar, on the other hand, is surprisingly quick to take over Logan’s role as village weirdo, moving to rush Logan out of the room. Logan leaves, not before he gives Oscar a suspicious glance but Oscar just replies by shoving him out. You dismiss it as annoyance at the man for intruding, though your eyes do stay trained on the door Logan had just left though for more than a few moments.
“He’s so weird,” you mumble, a confused look on your face as you think back to your friends actions.
“Yeah, he is,” Oscar replies, rolling his eyes. There’s a second layer of agreement laced through his words, though you don’t catch the fact he might have a different reason to agree. You hum, still trying to decode why your friend had been acting like that, not even figuring the cause might be the man in front of you.
Oscar pulls your attention back toward him as he rests a hand on your face, gently tilting your head toward him, “I have dinner reservations for tonight. That place you’d talked about this morning.”
You smile, completely forgetting about Logan’s loser behavior, “Sounds great.”
Oscar grins before letting go of your face, the feeling of his grasp still lingering on your skin, “I’m gonna take a shower, then we can go back to the hotel.”
You laugh, pushing him away from you gently. Oscar stumbles dramatically, causing your laugh to get louder. You don’t notice how Oscar’s smile gets bigger in sync with your happiness.
“Go, then. You stink.”
Oscar pulls a face, offense painting his features, “Rude.”
You snort, rolling your eyes as he moves toward the bathroom, “Go, nerd!”
Oscar laughs a final time before finally stepping into the room, shutting the door behind him. You collapse onto the couch you’re sitting on, mind running with thoughts of the dinner you were about to go to and recent memories of the pure elation you were feeling after Oscar’s win. Content fills your body as you relax, faint sounds of the shower the only sound filtering through your ears.
A few hours later, you’re sat across from your boyfriend, laughing over your food while sharing anecdotes back-and-forth, laughs probably a little too loud for the really nice restaurant.
Oscar grabs the bill from the waiter, smiling politely as the man walks away momentarily. Oscar pulls his card out and slides it back in his wallet before putting it in his back pocket, moving to stand up afterward. You grin as he holds a hand out to you, helping you to your feet.
You hum warmly, tiredness spreading through you as you approached the conclusion of a pretty long day. The food had been delicious and the atmosphere was wonderful.
You had thought you’d be going straight back to the hotel, considering Oscar still had to race again tomorrow.
But as you exit, Oscar pulls you away from the car, interlocking his fingers with yours. You shoot your eyebrows up as you glance at your boyfriend, a tight smile on his lips.
“I thought we could go for a walk on the beach, maybe? It’s really pretty,” Oscar stares straight ahead as he says the words, gaze seemingly avoiding yours. But when you don’t answer for a second, he does glance over to you and you finally nod with a small smile.
“Sure, I’d love that.”
Oscar gulps, a big grin splitting his face. He looks back toward the sand a bit ahead of you, moving to slowly stroll down it with you by his side. You let out a relaxed sigh, head falling into his shoulder. Oscar had been right, this was very pretty. Lights lit up the sand around you, reflecting off the ocean waves that crashed toward you. The sun is starting to set in the distance, casting warm hues over the sky.
You do stop to pull of your heels and Oscar is quick to hold them in his hands, resuming in his passive, slow walk.
You make bare comments about how pretty your surroundings were, the sound of silence just not satisfying you. Although you do leave enough time between sentences to truly take in the calmness that comes with the ocean scenery, wave sounds in the silence and all.
You eventually come to a point some ways down the beach that has more lights than the rest. They form a little semi-circle that perfectly light up the area. Oscar pulls you to a stop in the middle of them and he turns you both to look out at the ocean. You swear you hear a sound from behind you but when you glance over, the beach is clear of anyone else so you turn back around to gaze toward the sunset.
The sun is about halfway down in the horizon and you find your gaze locked on the pink and orange that fades through the sky. You’re so focused that you don’t notice that Oscars grasp on you disappears. When you turn around to point out the colors to your boyfriend, a sharp gasp leaves your throat.
“Oh my god, Osc-!”
You cut yourself off with a hand over your mouth as you look down at your boyfriend, kneeling in the sand, a small box clutched in his hands.
You don't remember much of his speech, too busy trying to not start absolutely sobbing. But you do remember the last words that leave his mouth before the ring is slid onto your finger.
“Will you marry me?”
You nod quickly, hands shaking as Oscar stands up to put the ring onto you. You stare down at it for a few seconds as Oscars hands rest on your waist, waiting for your reaction. You look up, moving through the shock in your veins. You grasp his face in your hands and pull him down into an emotionally-charged kiss, feeling his arms wrap around you tighter.
He smiles into the kiss, head resting against yours once you finally pull away. You look into his eyes for a second before laughing and leaning away, tears dripping down your face.
“That was so wonderful, Osc,” you say through your tears, wiping your face with the back of your hand.
“I’m glad you liked it,” Oscar smiles before it drops slightly, a grimace pulling onto his face, “because Logan’s been in that bush the whole time.”
Your head whips toward the bush Oscars hand is outstretched toward, eyebrows furrowed as you search the greenery.
An incredulous laugh leaves your throat as Logan pops his head up, a sheepish glance in your direction being all he offers in response. You snort, grinning as you notice the nice-looking camera in his hands.
“Come here, idiot,” you smile, waiting for your friend to emerge from the bushes so you can share this moment with the man who’d been your closest friend for your entire life, “‘At least, now I know why you were acting like that.”
That was, of course, 2021. Now, two years later, you were still following Logan around. But now, with the Floridian entering F1, you had a contract and a paycheck that came with it. Anyone who didn’t know Logan would think you were his assistant. Which you technically were. But anyone who did know Logan, would instead refer to you as his paid-best-friend, many jokes about him paying you to hang around being thrown his way from fans and fellow drivers alike.
It was very convenient that your husband was entering F1 at the same time as the man who employs you, opening up so many more chances to spend time with Oscar.
No one really questioned Oscar’s continued presence in the Williams garage. Everyone knew that him and Logan had always been close so when he was spotted in the white and blue, no one batted an eye.
Not even his new teammate, who claimed to know the Aussie better than anyone else on the grid. Lando just assumed Oscar was really eager to see his friend every day. Lando didn’t consider that he saw Logan every weekend anyway and that maybe the speed with which he got to Williams might be a little too fast to just be for a close friend.
No one from Williams questioned it either. They all knew that Logan and Oscar had grown up as friends. So when Oscar seemed pretty close to one of Logan's closest friends, they didn't question it. It only made sense.
You didn’t hang around the rest of the grid very often during Oscar and Logan’s first season. You didn’t really know any of the other drivers so you, instead, spent all your time in Williams, Alex and Lily becoming fast friends of yours.
But in 2024, you started to come around more, choosing to venture out of the garage and talk more to the drivers you’d met over the past year. One of the garages you had started to frequent more was McLaren, your husband quite excited to have you in the Papaya as opposed to your usual blue.
You went to the garage purely for Oscar. But he wasn’t always the only driver hanging around. The papaya garages were often frequented by drivers from other teams. Specifically, the Ferrari drivers loved to make their presence in the garages known.
It was the Australian GP, Oscar’s home race and only the third race of the season. You’d only came over to McLaren a few times over the past three races, but you were currently occupied with Logan after his car had been taken away so you were nowhere to be seen.
Oscar was sat with his teammate in hospitality, talking about pretty much anything as they waited out the few hours they had before they had to do anything.
“Lando!” The voice of a loud Spanish man has Oscar’s face splitting into a grimace. He turns his head to see none other than Carlos Sainz making his way toward the pair in papaya, Charles Leclerc in tow behind him.
Lando grins beside him, eyes lighting up as he looks toward his friend. Lando glances down toward his teammate to assess the look on the Aussies face before he stands up and clasps Carlos on the shoulder, “Hey, Carlos!”
Oscar looks away from the two of them, gaze landing on Charles who stands awkwardly to the side. Oscar catches his eye before gesturing for him to sit down in one of the free chairs around the table the McLaren boys had been occupying . Charles smiles gratefully, happy to break the strange stance he’d been stuck in previously.
After successfully bro-ing it out, Lando and Carlos eventually sit down at the table, chairs sliding against the grown loudly as they shift around.
“How are you both feeling about the race?” Carlos asks, eyes shifting between Lando and Oscar, though his gaze does stop on the Brit.
Oscar, though, pipes up to answer the Spaniards question before Lando can, “We feel pretty good. It’s a home race so that’s always great.”
Carlos hums absently, eyes seemingly searching for something behind Oscar. Oscar glances behind him quickly to see if there’s anything worth mentioning but is met with nothing but Papaya shirts. He turns back around. Weird.
Lando seems to notice Carlos’ weird behavior as well, his eyebrows furrowing as he glances around as well before looking back to the Spaniard, “You looking for something, Carlos?”
Carlos’ eyes snap back to the curly-haired man, heat rising to his cheeks as he realizes he’s been caught, “No, nothing.”
Charles snorts from beside his teammate, sticking a hand over his mouth in an attempt to stifle the laugh threatening to leave his throat. Carlos glares at the Monegasque lightly, only making Charles laugh harder before Carlos leans forward to explain.
“Where is that Williams girl?” Carlos asks with a small smile and a confused look passes over Oscar’s face. Who the hell is he talking about?
Charles seems to catch the matching confusion on the McLarens face, rolling his eyes at Carlos’ blunt delivery before starting to explain himself, “Carlos in love with that girl Logan hangs around with. The one that’s always in McLaren for some reason.”
Carlos nods in agreement, leaning back in his chair with satisfaction. Oscar feels his stomach drop.
“I’m not in love with her, I just think she’s really pretty.”
Charles laughs, eyes going wide in response, “Carlos you look for her every time we’re in this garage. You’ve been asking to come over here just so you can see her.”
Lando gasps dramatically, a big grin painting his face, “And here I was, thinking you’d been coming around so you could see me!”
The other three drivers at the table laugh but Oscar stays quiet, teeth digging hard into his bottom lip. An unreasonable annoyance filled him at Carlos’ words, eyes rolling as he watches the Spaniard go on about his love for you, Oscar’s wife.
“Why’ve you never gone to Williams to look for her?” Lando interjects after a few more seconds of mindless rambling from Carlos about you. Carlos glances sideways at Charles, a thoughtful look crossing his face.
“Never wanted to bother Logan, I guess. We’re not really friends,” Carlos shrugs.
Lando tilts his head, shaking it slightly, “I’m sure Logan wouldn’t mind.”
Oscar has to stop himself from scoffing at Landos words. If only he knew how much Logan would mind.
“Yeah, I’ll go over there in a minute. Maybe I’ll actually shoot my shot this time.”
Oscar stands up suddenly, chair screeching against the floor as it pushes backward.
“Where you going, mate?” Lando goes to ask but Oscar’s already practically ran away, feet carrying him quickly toward the Williams garage.
The three drivers he’s left behind look between each other with confused faces, all having no idea what made the Aussie leave so quickly.
Oscar, though, makes it to Williams in record time. Running between employees and the like, weaving his way to Logan’s room. He slams the door open, ignoring the strange glances from Williams employees around him.
He pauses as he sees the sight in front of him, Logans head resting heavily in your lap as you run a hand through the blonds hair. The dejected look on Logans face is enough to make Oscar grimace and move quieter as he enters the room. You glance up with the concerned expression still painting your features. Logan doesn't look up, eyes closed tightly and pure distaste clearly present.
“Hey Osc,” you practically sigh, eyes shifting back down to Logan for a moment. Only after hearing your words does Logan open his eyes, looking over toward the Aussie.
“Hey guys,” Oscar says carefully, his previous reason for rushing into Williams now momentarily forgotten.
Logan mumbles under his breath and closes his eyes again, nodding at Oscar before he does. You pat his head softly and he rolls over, moving his head away from you so you can stand up and talk to Oscar.
“Whats up?” you try to smile through your obvious grimace and Oscar smiles painfully in response.
He nods his head toward Logan who's now lying face-down on the couch, “Is he okay?”
“No, not a great weekend with the whole chassis thing,” You reply, trying to keep your voice low enough so Logan doesn't hear.
Apparently you weren't quiet enough as you hear a muffled shout echo through the small room.
“Im fine!” You can barely hear through the couch cushion but he’s just audible enough.
You shake your head at Oscar, sighing deeply, “Did you need something?”
Oscar nods slightly, grasping your hand in his and pulling you out of the room and away from Logan. Not that Oscar didn’t want to support his friend but he honestly didn’t know what to say. And he was obviously okay with you leaving or he wouldn’t have rolled away from you.
“Do you wanna come back to McLaren hospitality?” Oscar asks, dragging his finger over the wedding ring sat proudly on your ring finger. You notice his attention on the ring and tilt your head slightly.
“For any specific reason?”
Oscar shakes his head innocently, trying to take any look of suspicion off his face. Though it seems you know him too well as you raise an eyebrow and tilt your head, not believing his story.
Oscar rolls his eyes, admitting defeat, “Fine. Carlos was talking about how in love with you he is and I was getting annoyed about it.”
You laugh slightly, not expecting Oscar to claim that the Spaniard was in love with you. But when you see the blush on your husband’s face, you grin softly and pull him into a hug, grasping his face in your hands, “It’s okay, Osc. I only have eyes for you, darling.”
Oscar blushes harder, letting out a small laugh as you pepper his face with kisses and he reaches up a hand to bat your face away from his.
“Come on, let’s go show Carlos what he can’t have,” You laugh, marching forward with Oscar’s hand wrapped tightly in yours. Oscar laughs, following along behind you. But he’s secretly grateful you were willing to shut Carlos’ pining down, not sure if he could take Carlos, of all people, talking about his crush on you for any longer, “Even if he’s not there I’ll still get Logan something to eat.”
You reach the McLaren hospitality quickly enough, garnering some strange looks from people around you as they see your clasped hands. But you pay them no mind, more focused on getting to the food. Oscar drags along behind you, watching as you grab two plates of food, careful not to spill as you balance the plate for both yourself and Logan. Oscar untangles your fingers from his so he can grab one of the plates out of your hand, leading you toward a table so you can eat the food you’ve grabbed for yourself.
Oscar sits across from you as you start to pick at the food lazily, stabbing a lone grape with your fork before bringing it to your mouth. You seemed to have stopped caring about the potential Carlos sighting but Oscar was on high-alert, eyes trailing over the room.
His eyes catch on a scrap of red fabric over your shoulder and he moves his chair slightly closer to you, praying the Spaniard doesn’t catch sight of you. Oscar moves his knee to knock against yours and you smile warmly through the bite of watermelon you’d just taken.
You sit peacefully for a few minutes, eating quietly as Oscar seemingly keeps watch. You don’t ask him why he couldn’t just tell Carlos you were married himself but you don’t question his motives. Men were confusing.
Both of you are surprised when a figure walks up to stand above you. You glance up and see a grumpy-looking blonde man with tousled hair and a disgruntled face looking down at the two of you, exhaustion clear in his eyes.
“Hey, lo. Gotchu food,” You say, sliding the plate toward the American. He hums, glancing around the room. Oscar watches as he sees Carlos and then looks back, glancing between the Aussie and the enemy he had decide to make today.
“Brb,” Logan mumbles with crossed arms, slinking off to a destination you can’t see. But Oscar can, and he watches as his friend slides up to a certain Ferrari driver, his usual shy attitude abandoned due to his already-shit race weekend.
Oscar takes the opportunity to fully move his chair next to yours, grasping your open hand in his, passively fiddling with your wedding ring. You roll your eyes but relax your hand in his, allowing him the chance to be as possessive as he wants.
“Hey, man,” Carlos says as Logan reaches him. Really good timing actually, he’d been wanting to talk to him about you.
Logan blinks through his tiredness, frowning at the older man, “Hey, Carlos.”
Carlos grins, deciding to stick through the poor attitude from the blonde man in front of him, having no idea just how poor this was about to go for him, “I was actually going to ask you about that friend of yours. The pretty American one you’re always with.”
Logan blinks again, glancing back toward the papaya polo sat next to you before he looks back, “Y/N?”
Carlos shrugs, smile unfaltering, “I guess so, any way you could get me her number?”
Logan chews his cheek a bit, eyes quickly switching between the ground and Carlos’ face, “Nah, man. She's taken.”
Only then does Carlos’ face falter, his eyebrows furrowing slightly with confusion, “Really?”
Logan holds back his laugh, rubbing at his eyes as he starts to lose the tiredness he'd previously had, “Yeah, yeah. Married actually.”
Carlos’ head snaps toward the Williams driver, mouth opening slightly as he shakes his head, “No way, mate. You’re joking.”
“I don’t think I am,” Logan smirks, head tilting toward where you’re sitting, “You could ask her but I don’t think he’d let you get within 10 feet after this morning.”
Logan watches as Carlos’ gaze lands on you and your husband, mouth gaping as he catches Oscar’s hands fiddling with the ring on your finger, “Shit…”
“Yeah, shit indeed,” Logan nods, starting to walk away and leave the Spaniard to revel in his shock, “Have a good race, Carlos. I won’t be seeing you out there.”
You finally look up to see Logan sit down across from you, sliding his own plate over to himself and starting to munch down on the food you’d picked for him.
Oscar raises an eyebrow as he catches the incredulous look on Carlos’ face, “What was that about?”
“Just told him you’re married,” Logan mumbles through a mouth full of strawberries, chewing passively, “Had to spell it out for him, been dropping hints for months.”
You glance toward you friend with confusion painting your face, “What do you mean?”
“Yeah, I’ve been scaring him off from Williams since last October. Don’t think he even realized I was doing it on purpose.”
You and Oscar catch eyes, small grins breaking out on your faces as Logan continues to stare intently at his snack.
“Thanks, Logan,” you smile, happy to hear about your friends committed defense of your marriage.
“Don’t thank me, I’m still in a bad mood,” he says as he stabs a grape violently, biting the green sphere with a crunch.
Oscar hums, pulling you into him and resting his head on top of yours, eyes falling closed momentarily, “Sure, Logan. Eat your food, you’ll feel better.”
Logan just replies with a stab of his fork and you laugh, relaxing against your husband behind you, grateful for the great friend you’ve got in front of you.
————————————————
Tags: @casperlikej @evie-119
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i-cant-sing · 2 days
Text
Time Traveller Au pt 5
Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. Part 4 is here. AU masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more!
This is kinda long so bring your snacks along.
Baldwin and a woman- kissing.
You were in your room right now, fiddling with your time machine now that you had one tool to pry it open. Just 20 minutes ago, you had witnessed Baldwin and some girl kissing, and very swiftly you, turned and left the scene before either of them could notice you. You dont need to meddle in their business- why should you?
Its not like I actually want to stay here and confront him if he really did betray his future wife.
Someone knocked quickly on your door before entering in.
"Y/n!" Baldwin beamed as he ran towards you and picked you up, spinning you around. "Princess! I missed you!" He exclaimed, putting you down and kissing your forehead. Though he still kissed you with the same intensity as ever, you didnt feel the warmth as you usually did.
"Hello." You said monotonously, it was the best you could do to keep your voice stable. Baldwin, still in a daze, cupped your face in his hands and gazed lovingly at you.
"You are a sight for sore eyes." Shut up.
You looked away as Baldwin continued to stare into your soul. "So... how was your trip? Tell me all about it!" He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you further to him.
"It was fine." You replied, looking at the collar of his shirt. You refuse to look up into his eyes, lest you lose control of your temper. "Just fine? What about your family? Did you find them?" His voice held genuine concern.
You hummed, still not looking up. "I have found some clues, but I will need to go there again to find more."
Baldwin pouted. "Again? No. Being away from you for just 1 week already felt like a lifetime!" Oh I bet. Thats why you couldnt stop yourself from kissing some whor-
"I need to go, Baldwin. Its important for me to find them." You said with the same serious tone, and it didnt go unnoticed by him this time.
He tilted your chin up to meet his eyes. "Are you okay?"
"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" You tried to pull away, but his arms held you firmly. His eyes studied you again, and he wasn't convinced.
"Princess, tell me whats bothering you." You. You are bothering me.
As much as you wanted to say that, you didnt. Cheater or not, he still is the king.
Finally, you gave him a small smile. "I'm sorry, I'm just- tired from the travelling." He sighed in relief, using the back of his hand to caress the side of your face. "Oh, I bet you are darling. Why dont you take a nap now and I'll come fetch you for dinner?"
-
Baldwin threw you a feast on your return. Even though you had no appetite, you still joined him because you cant completely ignore him without raising suspicion. So, for now, you'll bide your time. You'll play the fool.
It just didnt make any sense. Why- why was he trying so hard to be affectionate with you? Why he wanted to marry you when he was interested in someone else? And before anyone says that maybe he's not that into her- um, back in this era, when everyone was conservative, even Baldwin was religious, he wouldn't just kiss any girl out of wedlock unless he was absolutely sure he was going to marry her.
"Y/n?" You looked up from your plate at Sibylla. Baldwin had invited his sister and Guy to celebrate your return. "Tell us, how was Egypt?"
You could feel Baldwin's eyes on you, but you didnt look his way. "It was good. Salauddin was a very good host, he had arranged for me to see the pyramids."
"Ah, how kind of Salauddin. I'll be sure to write him a letter and send him some gifts. What do you think, princess?" Baldwin offered, but you only gave a small hum and barely spared a glance his way before continuing to talk with Sibylla.
"My king, I do not think it would be wise to do that. The Muslims are our enemies-" Guy interjected but Baldwin shot him down with a look. Baldwin didnt even have to glare at Guy to intimidate him.
"I have brought some souvenirs for you. They're in my room- I'll show them to you later." You smiled at Sibylla who beamed back.
Dinner was mostly uneventful, or until dessert was served and Guy began choking on blueberry. "Guy!" Sibylla cried out as her husband began thrashing about from the lack of air. The servants tried to help him, slapping his back and all, but really what could they do.
Serves him right for trying to eat and start a propaganda against Muslims again. But alas, you needed Guy alive if you wanted to bring the downfall of Baldwin and Jerusalem, just as history had it.
So you walked over and pushed everyone away before performing Heimlich manoeuvre. It took a few minutes but the blueberry finally dislodged itself from his wind pipe and out.
"Oh! Guy-!" Sibylla rubbed his back as he coughed while a servant passed him some water. She smiled at you gratefully. "You saved him, Y/n! Thank you! You really are an angel!" Guy finally recovering from his coughing fit, pushed Sibylla's hands away and glared at you.
"She did not save me- I was not dying-!" He argued, but before Baldwin could defend you, you replied nonchalantly.
"I agree. You werent dying. This was just God's way of telling you to shut up sometimes. Hallelujah!" Baldwin had to cover up his laugh as everyone in the room automatically said "Hallelujah", not giving Guy a chance to retaliate.
Baldwin's eyes sparkled with amusement as he found you smirking.
You're a clever one.
-
Baldwin came to fetch you for breakfast the next day. He came to your room last night, just minutes after Sibylla had left, but one of your maids informed him that you had already went to sleep. Slightly odd, as the king would always wish you good night before you slept, but he suppose you were tuckered out from your long journey.
However, he was dumbfounded when he saw all your maids standing outside your room, whispering amongst each other.
"What is going on? Why are you not with the princess?" Baldwin asked, quickly waving them off as they bowed.
"Your majesty, the princess- um she has started her bloody flux."
"Her WHAT?!"
"Her monthly cycle." Oh. Periods. Baldwin sighed. He thought some terrible accident had occurred.
Then again, periods in medieval times were not a good news either. Sure, they did indicate fertility and all, but woman were still shamed about it, especially religiously. Some people believed that cramps and bleeding were a punishment for Eve's original sin. Others even believed that since one is bleeding for such a long time, then that person is "sick" and could transfer this "disease" to those in contact or even near mensturating women. A small minority even thought that this monthly flow was some sort of sorcery or curse that could ruin entire crop fields. Add on to that the lack of sanitary pads/tampons and no ibuprofen, and you get what would be a terrible time for women.
"Please inform the princess that I'm here-"
The maids shared a look. "Your majesty, it is not advisable to be near the princess when she is sick-"
"Inform the princess. Now." The maid's heart almost dropped at his tone, before following his order. Moments later, she returned looking even more nervous than before.
"Y-your majesty, the princess insists that she will see you herself when she is feeling better, for now she would like to rest." Baldwin frowned. Just how unwell were you? Are you- are you really that unwell or do you just not want to see him?
No. You wouldnt avoid him like this. He hasnt done anything wrong.
Baldwin looked at the maids again, who were waiting with bated breath. "Bring herbal medicines for the princess. Ensure the best care for her. Every need must be met." The consequences of not following his order didnt need to be voiced.
-
You returned back to tinkering with your time machine when you heard his retreating steps. Were you on your period? Yes. Were you so sick that you did not want to even look at Baldwin? No, but then again, your cramps hit worse on day 2 and your ibuprofen was burned away with your clothes.
Then again, PMS-ing or "working on your time machine" wasnt the real reason you refused to meet Baldwin. It did contribute to it, but deep down you knew you were still bothered by the fact that he kissed that woman.
You dropped your time machine on the bed exasperatedly. Clearly, you werent going to be able to focus on this as long as you didnt confront your feelings about the kissing. So, you became your own unpaid therapist.
First of all, was it really cheating? It was just a kiss- nope. You shook your head, deciding. It so was cheating! Especially considering the time period and how conservative everyone was.
Alright. Next question- was it intentional? You closed your eyes, trying to come up with excuses. Maybe he was drunk? No. Baldwin never gets that drunk, and even drunk, you highly doubt he's one to go for day time drinking. Perhaps that lady initiated the kiss? Yeah, thats possible. She kissed him, but- your lips pulled into a scowl as you recalled the sight. He didnt push her back for a good few seconds. Of course, you didnt stick around for long to see if he did, but still, Baldwin should've pushed her back. Maybe he had his back turned and she caught him by surprise- you sighed. No way. Baldwin's reflexes were too fast, to the point you think he probably has a sixth sense. He wouldn't have been caught off guard, or even let anyone get this close to him.
You rolled your eyes. Intentional or not, at the end of the day, the fact is that Baldwin didnt immediately push her away and smack her down on the ground.
On to the next query- who the hell was that lady? Because nobody would just go up to the king and kiss him, especially when said king made sure to announce his engagement to the entire world. So, she planned it. Yes, no one would dare to do that unless they knew they could get away with it. So maybe she's someone Baldwin knows. Personally. Maybe a childhood friend? An old bethrothed? Or his favourite whore because Baldwin isnt as innocent as he seems and decided to have a bachelor party while you were away?
And finally, the burning question- why did it bother me who he was locking lips with? You crossed your arms against your chest defensively. Why did it bother me so deeply? Was I jealou- You scoffed. No. Definitely not. Okay, maybe I am a little jealous. And who wouldn't be? Anyone in my shoes would understand. Perhaps I enjoyed his attention, its human nature. Normal psychology... yeah. Even if I wasn't going to return his affections ever, even if I never intended to marry Baldwin, of course I would still expect him to be loyal, He didn't know I was going to leave him! He shouldn't be kissing other women! He should've stayed loyal, stayed true to me, his fiancee!
You exhaled sharply, brows furrowing the more you thought about his betrayal. It was understandable for me to be pissed. Why? Because of Baldwin and his stupid lovey dovey words and his disgusting forehead kisses and his dumb big blue eyes that made me believe him.
And even if he didnt actually love you, you thought that at the very least- he liked you, especially when you had literally saved his fucking life.
Your nostrils flared. "Jerk." You whispered to yourself.
A knock came on your door.
It was one of the maids, bringing in something on a tray.
"His Majesty has sent some herbal medicines for you." You were a little surprised at the gesture, not because Baldwin did it. Ugh. No, you were surprised because in medieval times, people often withheld herbal medicines or anything that would relieve period pain purely because many believed that this pain was the punishment of Eve's original sin for all womankind. So- considering Jerusalem's religous history, you were surprised at the gesture.
"I have also brought in more cloth rags for you. Would you like me to help you change-" "No!" You said abruptly, heat rising to your cheek. Yes, you were using linen rags because you didnt have any pads with you. Of course, earlier you had futuristic gadgets and medicines to deal with this situation, but with all of them burned to ashes, you had no choice.
"Oh. My apologies princess. I thought you'd like some privacy so I excused protocol, but I can have your ladies in waiting come and assist you-" "Please stop talking." You begged. "Its... fine. I can do it myself. Please leave the rags in my cupboard. And um-" You fiddled with your hands, trying to gather the words to voice your next request.
The sweet old lady smiled kindly at you. "Yes, princess?"
You looked down, cheeks flushing. "Can you... get me some more soap? And um, thicker rags?"
"Soap? Oh, I'll have the bath prepared right away-"
"No, not body soap. Soap for... washing my clothes." The maid nodded understandingly. "You can give me your stained clothes, princess. I'll wash them myself."
"Im sorry-" She waved you off. "No worries. I should've asked. Its just- woman here usually dont have heavy flows. I'll arrange more rags. If you dont mind me asking, how long does your flow last?"
"Sev-" You were going to say seven days but then realised the more days you added, the less you'll have to see Baldwin, or anyone else really and that will buy you more time to work on your machine. "Ten, sometimes twelve days."
The kind lady's eyes bulged a little. "I-! My apologies, princess! I- I was just caught off guard. Its um- well, its just girls here get shorter flows. The longest I heard was 5 days." Of course, in medieval times, menstrual cycles were shorter due to poor diet and more frequent child bearing.
"10 to 12 days... princess, I apologise for asking this, but have you considered that you might be bleeding excessively because of a disease? Shall I fetch a physician?" She asked with concern.
You shook your head. "No. I have always gotten them this long and I had myself checked by a physician. She said its normal, especially where I'm from." The maid nodded, satisfied that you're not bleeding to death.
-
Baldwin was in his study, working on some official documents when your maid knocked on his door.
"Your Majesty." She bowed gracefully as Baldwin smiled at her, standing from his seat to walk up to her, embracing her in a warm hug.
"Lady Margaret, how are you?" Lady Margaret used to be his royal nanny for a long while and took care of him even when he had contracted leprosy. She was practically a mother figure to him, especially when his own mother died. When Baldwin became engaged to you, he had asked her to be your senior lady in waiting, which will be her official title once you are wed to him. For now, she is your head maid. Baldwin trusted her the most with you. She had a comforting presence, and he was sure that while she took care of you, you would also find comfort in her the same way he used to.
"I'm good, your majesty." She smiled softly. "I just served the princess lunch."
"Hm, and how is the princess now?" The concern in his voice warmed her heart.
"The princess is well now. She's resting at the moment, though I feel a little concerned."
His heart skipped a beat. "Why?"
"Princess Y/n told me about her cycle time." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "It seems that she will suffer through this- diseased period longer than most others."
"How long?"
"Ten or twelve days." His eyes went saucer wide. From what he's heard, the normal duration is often 2 or 3 days, maybe 5 for some. But this?
"Summon the physici-" "I offered, your majesty. But she insists that she already had herself checked and that this is her normal cycle." Lady Margaret informed him, before continuing on to ease his worries. "She seems very knowledgeable about her body, and she is handling it pretty well for now."
"For now?" She nodded. "Of course, only time can tell if the pain increases in its intensity. All we can do is offer our help and pray that this bloody flux passes smoothly and swiftly."
Baldwin pondered over her words for a moment, his brows still furrowed slightly before he finally spoke again. "Please summon the royal physician. I would like to talk to him." He ordered before leaving his study to go to the royal library.
-
The next day, as expected your cramps hit. You had no plans to move an inch today, tossing and turning as you clutched your abdomen, eyes screwed shut in pain.
Somebody knocked on your door. Its likely one of the maids, probably to bring you food or something.
"What?" You called out, pulling the covers over your head. You're in no mood to interact with anyone. You heard the door open and footsteps entering. You exhaled, barely suppressing the painful groan. "Please can you go right now and get me some of the herbal medicines you had given me yesterday- and no, no food. I'm too nauseous."
You heard the person clear their throat, making you frown. Why haven't they left? Oh, please this better be not some "royal protocol" shit where they withhold the drugs from you.
You whipped the blanket off you, eyes still closed as you raged off. "Unless you want me to continue to feel like I have a iron poker stuck up in my spine while my soul leaves me from my feet, you will get me those herb-" you stopped as you opened your eyes to see-
"Baldwin?" He stood there with worry spread across his face.
"Is it... really that bad?" He asks in a low volume, as if afraid that noise would hurt you. In his hands, he held a tray that had a bowl. Walking up to your side, he set the tray on your side table, and thats when you saw the bowl of soup on it.
"Why are you- you're not supposed to be in here." You informed him. "I'm sick-"
"I know." Baldwin began sitting down on your bed, making you scoot back to give him space. He scanned your face briefly, making note of the tired eyes. He raised his hand to touch your forhead, but you turned your face away, making him halt. Why... were you avoiding his touch?
"Princess?" He called you, but you didnt turn to look at him opting to answer by keeping your eyes fixed on your fingers fiddling with the covers. "I'm not well- you shouldnt be near me, or you'll risk getting sick-"
"I'll take the risk." He announced as his hand found its way to your forehead first, and then caressed your cheek. "You took the risk for me too, remember?"
I did. You stared at him. And for what, you prick?
Taking your silence as a sign, Baldwin picked up the bowl of soup and brought the spoon up to your lips.
"I'm not hungry."
"I know, but this will help with the pain and nausea. I promise." He gently nudged the spoon against your lips again, and you parted your lips as the aroma of rosemary and oregano hit your nose.
The soup tasted good and you wouldn't admit it out loud, but it did warm your soul as it slid down your throat. It was earthy and creamy, and just what your cramping body needed.
"Its nice, hm?" He asked, smiling as you gave him a single nod. "I had the kitchen make it with my own recipe."
"Your recipe?"
"Well, I told them about what ingredients to add, ones that would be beneficial for your body and soothe some of your ache. They had to tweak it a bit to make it palatable." Baldwin explained. "And how did you know what ingredients to add?" You interrogated. Did he make it for his lover? Or stole the recipe from her?
"Oh, I just researched it." "Researched?" He nodded, feeding you another spoon. "I read some books."
You couldn't help but scoff. "So what? You're an expert on periods now?"
He chuckled, shaking his head as he scooped up some more soup to feed you. "Of course not! I cant be an expert by spending after only researching for a day. Sure, I summoned the royal physicians to educate me more on the topic but I dont think he knows much."
He spent a whole day... reading about periods? You turned your gaze away from him, choosing to focus on the wall behind him instead. "That's obvious. Just how much could a man know about the female body?"
Baldwin's eyes twinkled. "Exactly my thoughts, princess." He fed you another spoon. "That's why I'm having a royal body of physicians solely focused on studying the female body and affect of medicine built. It will consist of the best physicians, both men and women, from around the world study and work on the diseases concerning the female body. I'll fund it personally."
"What? Why?"
He looked at you dumbfounded. "Obviously for the same reason you said. Currently not much is known about a woman's body, so why not? I don't want you to be suffering again because of my lack of knowledge. I truly do feel helpless when I see you in pain." He confessed sadly.
Liar.
He set the empty bowl to the side before taking your right hand in both of his. "Please, let me know how can I help you? My love, my beautiful princess, it hurts me to see you in this torment." Baldwin said as he kissed the back of your hand gently.
You stared at his face, at those blue eyes of his. How can he- how can he lie with such conviction?
You pulled your hand away from him, looking away (which now that you think about- why am I avoiding his eyes? I didnt do anything wrong!).
"I wish to be alone, Baldwin."
In your peripheral vision, you could see the way his face dropped, and though you should've felt delighted, you felt rather awful- as if you had hurt a child.
It only made things worse when he whispered. "But... why?"
Still avoiding his eyes, you replied. "I- I adjust better to this- this state when I'm alone. I just need to rest, that's all. Some peace and quiet." You convinced yourself that you only explained to him just to get him to leave.
Had you looked at him, you would've seen the sorrow on his face.
"O-of course, princess. As you wish."
He left.
-
The next 3 days were uneventful for you, mostly because you didnt leave your room and- Baldwin didnt return to disturb you.
Which is good. You though to yourself, because it finally gave you enough time to not only work on your time machine but also work on your plan to right the timeline as it should be.
Which is why, today you had decided to leave your room. Of course it helped that Lady Margaret had brought in cotton for you to make a DIY sanitary napkin.
"Where did you get this?" You don't recall cotton being grown easily in cooler climates.
Lady Margaret smiled as she made your bed. "His Majesty had it imported from Sicily."
Your eyes went wide. "How? Sicily is- thats far away!" She chuckled at you shock. "Yes, but I think this sicilian cotton had made its way to Egypt, and perhaps His Majesty acquired it from Sultan Salauddin."
You looked at the large amount of cotton packed into bags in your room. "He bought this much?" Lady Margaret followed your gaze to the pile sitting in the corner, and mistook your surprise for disappointment.
"No, dont worry princess. King Baldwin had bought bales of cotton! They're stored away for future use." Your jaw dropped.
Bales? Baldwin ordered BALES OF COTTON?! You gasped internally. If he had THAT much cotton imported from Egypt, Salauddin surely would've asked for the reason because he would suspect that Baldwin is planning to use it for military strategy or attack. But you know Baldwin, his dumbass would've spilled to Salauddin, his off field bestie who he confides in about everything, about your periods.
You want to crawl into a hole in ground and die. Right now.
But... you fucked up history, so dying of embarrassment will have to wait.
"Lady Margaret, I need some fresh air so I'll be either taking a walk in the garden or you'll find me in the royal library ." You said, adjusting your clothes in front of the mirror. "Please make sure that neither my maids nor my knights are to follow me. I- I need some time to breathe or I will lose my mind if I feel anyone breathe down my neck about some royal protocol. I'll be back before lunch." You left before she could protest, though you doubt she will when she saw how agitated you were.
You had walked towards the west hall where you were hoping to find that big headed buffoon-
You heard his obnoxious laughter before you saw him.
Guy was standing in the middle of the hall, looking ugly as hell as he smirked at some poor maid struggling to break free from his grasp.
"Oh come on, you wench, give me a kiss-"
"Guy, let her go." Startling him, the maid took the chance and ran off. Guy turned around, glaring when he saw you. "What do you want?" He grumbled, running a hand through his hair frustratedly, looking back to see if the maid was still there or not.
"Quit it." You scolded him, before walking towards an empty room, nodding at him to get in. He grinned as you strode in. "Ah, so you're jealous? Well dont you worry darling, I can give you a kiss to-"
"I would rather burn myself alive and be crucifed than even be rumoured that you dared to touch me with your disgusting paws." You remarked, walking away from him to create distance between you two. "I have a proposal for you that would interest you."
Guy grumbling, sat down on a chair and looked at you expectantly.
"I have a plan to make you king." His eyes went wide.
"I- I- what?!" He stood up. "I dont want- this is treason!" He yelled, pulling out his sword and aiming at you. You stood steadfast, unaffected. "And this isnt? If you kill me, who do you think will end up in the dungeons?" You sighed. "Put it away, Guy, before you embarrass yourself any further."
You began explaining your plan. "You and I both know you were just waiting for Baldwin to roll over and die when he had leprosy. I know you want to be king, and... I can help you with that."
He stared at you, trying to figure out if this is a trap. "I... I deserve to be king. I was promised the throne. Thats why I married Sibylla!" He complained. Honestly, what the fuck does Sibylla see in this piece of cow dung?
Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you continued. "I agree, thats why we should make an alliance-"
He scoffed. "An alliance? With you?" He said with such disgust, you didnt know whether it was because it was you were a woman, or because you were- well, you. "Why would I need you?"
"Because Guy... you're too dumb to pull this off on your own. No offense." He was offended, so you continued before he could start talking shit again. "Guy, if you become a little open minded for just a few minutes and hear me out, you'll find my proposal very useful." And by some miracle, he stayed quiet and let you present your plan.
When you were finally done explaining, he looked pretty convinced. But of course, he would rather stab himself than admit that outloud.
"Your plan... can work, but it'll take an awful lot of time." He said.
You leaned against the wall, and crossed your arms. "Good things comes to those who wait."
"I still think we should do it my way." You rolled your eyes at his insistence. "Guy, do you know how stupid it sounds when you suggest that we lock Baldwin in a room full of lepers? He cant get leprosy again."
"Well, why not?!"
"Because I cured him." He scowled at your answer. "What about measles? Or yellow fever-"
"Baldwin cant get sick. Ever." Well, technically he could get sick but its highly unlikely because the medicinal vial he drank when you gave him your water had all the vaccines in it, so Baldwin's immunity is pretty invincible right now. You sighed, rubbing your temples. "Look, if we follow my plan, then Baldwin will die a hero, no one will suspect you of anything, and you still get to be king!"
He seemed to contemplate for a moment before narrowing his eyes at you. "And what do you get out of it?"
"Freedom." Guy scoffed. "You want freedom over being Queen of Jerusalem, the Holy Land? Do you think I'm stupid?!"
"Those are two different questions. But yes, to both." You smirked as he got mad. "Okay fine. I'm doing this for... revenge."
"Revenge?" You nodded. "I love someone else, and Baldwin doesnt love me either. He only wants me because of my "healing abilities." You lied, but this is the only way to convince Guy. "So what do you say? Are we in an understanding?" You asked him.
Guy smirked, nodding.
-
You were on your way towards your chambers when you saw her again.
Her. The woman who kissed Baldwin.
The raven haired lady was leaving her room and hadnt noticed you standing at the end of the corridor. She pulled her hood up, looking around hastily before leaving towards the East wing of the castle.
Where Baldwin resided.
You had no reason to, but before you could stop yourself, you were entering her room.
Might as well check the place where Baldwin's been hiding his lover all this time.
It was an average sized room, nowhere near as lavish as your or Baldwin's was, but still better than what some of his royal guests would get. You walked towards her bed, sitting down as a sharp cramp hit you.
You groaned, holding your stomach as you buckled over and thats when you caught sight of a small box under the bed. You pulled it out and took of the lid. It contained letters. Many letters from different people, but mostly from Baldwin.
You looked at the dates- they've been in contact for years.
Your finger traced over her name.
"Charlotte." Huh. Sounds a lot like harlot-
You shook your head. You cant stay here for too long, dont want "Charlotte" walking in on you snooping. Since these letters were arranged according to dates, you picked a couple on the bottom, to read later and see what Baldwin has been upto after announcing his engagement.
Pocketing them in your dress, you turned to leave, opening the door only to come face-to-face with her.
She was startled, before looking confused as to who you were.
Of course, she doesnt know you. While you were trying to come up with an excuse, Charlotte's eyes fell on the huge diamond ring on your finger, and she let out a small gasp of realisation and immediately dropped into a graceful courtesy.
"Your Majesty! I'm sorry I didn't recognise you before!" Alright, maybe the ball can be in your court.
You flicked your wrist to signal her to rise. "That's quite alright..."
"Charlotte." She replied. You hummed. "Right. I apologise, I didnt know this was your room. I was just trying to find the library."
"Oh thats on the other side of the castle, in the North wing!" She said cheerfully, your eyes falling on that dimpled smile of hers.
"Hm, you seem to know a lot about the castle." You remarked, a little bitterly.
But perhaps Charlotte didnt catch on. "Oh yes! I spent a lot of time here as a child. My father used to work for the late king." She explained. You continued to study her face, that fair complexion, blemish free skin, rosy cheeks, and hazel eyes adorned with luscious lashes.
"Ah, so you must be close with King Baldwin." You finally said, and you didnt fail to catch the momentary shock in her eyes before she composed herself.
Busted.
"I- hahaha, um, no. We used to play sometimes when we were young, but then the late king passed away, and King Baldwin had to take up new duties." She chuckled nervously.
You sighed dramatically. "Pity. You seem like a lovely gal." Charlotte's eyes widened slightly. "Heavy is the head that wears the crown, I guess." You mumbled as you moved past her.
"Y-your Majesty!" She called out from behind you. You looked at her nervous face as she bit her lip, trying to come up with the words.
"Yes?"
"I- I need your help." She gulped. "King Baldwin-"
"Y/N!" You whipped your head around to find Baldwin at the other end of the hall, marching over towards you two. His pace was fast and... somewhat angry.
He came to a halt, taking your face in his hands before kissing your forehead hard. "I've been looking for you everywhere, princess!" He hugged you, pulling your head into his chest. "You had me so worried!"
While your head was shoved against his chest, you managed to catch a glimpse of Charlotte looking at Baldwin with desperation, and tears welling up in her eyes. After a little struggle, you finally managed to push yourself away from Baldwin, but he immediately took ahold of your arms, not letting you get away from him. Or-
pulling you away from Charlotte.
The lady continued to look at Baldwin with those barely suppressed anguish, but he refused to spare her a glance. Instead, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and began pushing you in the opposite direction.
"Come on, princess. You need to be in bed resting." He said to you, still not acknowledging her.
"Your Majesty, I need to talk-" Charlotte called out.
"We'll talk later, Lady Charlotte."Baldwin continued to pull you along with him. "Your Majesty-"
"I said- later." He finally looked over his shoulder, and you were astonished to see the mean glare he cast her.
Charlotte finally bowed her head in submission.
As you both reached your room, Baldwin seemed to finally return to his usual self. "Oh princess, I just felt like my heart dropped when I was informed you werent in your room! You know the physicians have been emphasising bed rest-"
"What just happened back there, Baldwin?" You cut off his rambling.
"What was what, dear?"
"Baldwin." Your tone turned dead serious. "Why did you pull me away from her? What was Charlotte going to tell me?"
He looked into your eyes, and you could see the gears turning in his head. "Do not lie to me, Baldwin." You warned.
His gaze turned sharp. "I just didnt want you to listen to anything she had to say." He sat on your bed, leaning forward as he clasped his hands. "She's... not in the right state of mind."
Ah. So she's "crazy".
"Why is she not in the right mind? And why is she here then?" You demanded answers.
Baldwin sighed, rubbing his temples. "You should not be burdened with that. I am... handling it." He got up, taking your hands in his. "Just trust me, princess. I am doing this to protect you."
Fuck. That.
You wanted to backhand him so bad, but you also did not want your head chopped off. Seriously though... the nerve men have. To not only frame Charlotte as being "off her meds" but also basically admit to cheating because he's doing this to "protect you", what kind of bullshit is that?
But alas, your time machine was still not fixed and if the most
"pious" man could be cheating on you with a smile plastered on his face, you didnt think any other man of this era would fair any better.
So you played the fool.
"Of course I trust you, Baldwin." You let him kiss your hairline sweetly, though you felt anything but.
-
It didn't surprise you the next day when you tried to look for Lady Charlotte, only to be told that she left the day before, in the dead of the night.
Baldwin couldnt be looking anymore guilty than he is at the moments. Seriously, kicking out your lover the day your fiancee finds out about her existence?
You scoffed. He can do whatever the hell he wants, you're going to be leaving for Egypt soon anyways.
Returning to your room, you decided to read the letters that you had stole from Charlotte's room yesterday.
The 4 letters you had managed to take, all were from Baldwin detailing that he would "help her" and "cares for her still", etc. However, the last letter, the latest one, dated to almost 10 days ago, the same time you were away in Egypt, told Charlotte that he had been cured of leprosy, and would be soon able to get her the "cure" too. But this letter, it was signed off as "King Baldwin IV" and not "Baldwin" as in other letters.
All the previous letters, all of them were months old, or at the very least, they were all written before he announced his engagement. Which meant that for more than a month now, Baldwin hadnt written to her, kind of surprising, since he wrote to her- according to the dates, at least every two weeks. So why hadnt he wrote to her after deciding to marry you? He never mentioned you to her before-
You looked up in realisation. Did... did Baldwin plan to use you as a universal "cure"? You exhaled sharply in disbelief. No, no way. Baldwin doesnt actually believe in all that religious mumbo jumbo about you being an "angel sent by God who has magic healing powers". But-
Your heart sank. Of course, he does. Thats why he's making that "royal body of physicians", the best from around the world, to study you. He never wanted to study the female body to help your period cramps! He's gonna use you as a fucking lab rat to make himself and his people invincible! He wants you to cure them all!
What happens- what happens when he realises that I cant cure anyone? What's he going to do to me?
Your throat ran dry at the silent answer. You've read about medieval torture. They're brutal.
You heard footsteps coming towards your room, so you quickly his your letters and tried to look normal again.
"Princess?" Baldwin knocked before entering, not waiting for your permission. He beamed as he looked at you, walking upto you to kiss your cheek, but frowned immediately. "Princess, you're sweating. Are you okay?"
You wiped the cold sweat quickly. Nodding at him, you changed the subject. "Where are you going?" You asked, looking at his clothes.
"Oh! I'm going hunting! Its been a while, and I read somewhere that bone marrow is very nutritious for the body, so I'm going to hunt some animals for you." He explained ecstatically before grinning at you as he leaned down to your level. "But since its been so long since I last went hunting, I decided I needed some good luck. So... princess, will you bless me with some luck?"
"W-what?" You stammered out at the proximity. He turned his cheek, glancing at you expectantly. Oh, he cant be serious.
"Do you want your king, your soon-to-be husband to die?" He teased, but at the same time, you knew he wouldnt leave until you did what he wanted.
Swallowing thickly, you leaned in slowly and gave him a quick peck on his cheek, right where his dimple appeared when you did. Immediately, he turned face back to you and grabbed your head to steady and planted a wet kiss on your forehead.
"My luckiest charm!" He chuckled, pinching your nose as your flushed. "I'll be back before dinner!" He said on his way out.
-
3 hours later, you had finally decided to leave. You cant wait until another week and who knows if Baldwin will even let you leave then? What if he figures out that there is no family in Egypt for you and decides to lock you away in the dungeons to be experimented on?
Ironic how you as a scientist will now be a guinea pig for medieval era "scientists".
You had sneaked out of your room without anyone noticing, a feat in itself since the place is crawling with knights and servants.
But of course, Baldwin would've made sure there was at least one person tailing your every move.
"Princess Y/n?" The knight commander of your security detail called out. What were the odds of him leaving his post at the front of the castle, to walk in on you mounting a horse in the stables at the back of this castle? "Where are you going? His Majesty told me that you would be resting in your room today."
You blinked at him, trying to come up with an excuse. "I- I-"
He looked at you with even more concern, however that would start turning into suspicion soon if you don't answer him soon.
"Chapel!" You blurted out. "I- I am going to the royal chapel... to uh- isolate myself."
"Isolate?"
"Y-yes, because of my- um flow. I do not want to risk his majesty or- anyone getting sick because of me." The knight commander seemed satisfied with your explanation. He nodded, signalling a couple of other knights his way. "Very well, princess. Let these knights accompany you to the chapel, and they will keep guard while you isolate yourself inside."
You know he wouldnt let you go without knights, so you dont argue. Besides, the royal chapel is huge. You're sure you can sneak out of there unnoticed by these knights.
-
At the chapel, you waited until it was dark and the last of the church staff had taken their leave. You had found a small window to squeeze through, but just then, one of the knights knocked on the door of your chapel.
You didnt answer at first, hoping that they'd think you were asleep and dont disturb you again. However, they knocked again, this time with more persistence.
Grumbling, you returned to your bed and messed up your hair, pretending like you just woke up.
"Yes?"
The knight barged in, looking spooked. "A-apologies for waking you up, princess but-! But his majesty-!" You got up from your bed, brows furrowing.
"His Majesty has been injured during the hunt!" He stammered out.
Your eyes widened. Baldwin got injured? The knight began ushering you out of the chapel. "We must return to palace now! Its not safe!"
"What? Why?" You stopped him from helping you mount your horse. He looked at the other knights who were all on high alert as they kept looking around.
"The king was shot by an arrow!"
-
You were now back at the castle, against your will, so running away will have to wait. You were going to go to your room, but the knight commander ushered you towards Baldwin's.
"Why am I going there?" You asked as he escorted you.
"The king is injured." He replied. "So? Fetch the physicians."
"I did." He stopped to look at you. "But His Majesty has refused them from helping. He asked for you specially."
Oh no. Is he- is he going to make you "heal" him again? But you dont have any of your medicinal potions anymore. So when he realises you cant heal him-
You stood in front of his door.
Will he kill me?
You entered the room, spotting him lying on the bed bare chested, with an arrow stuck in his left shoulder blade.
Baldwin's eyes were closed, but his brows were furrowed in pain, sweat glistening from his entire body.
As you walked near, you spotted the bandages and ointments left by the physicians.
"B-Baldwin?" Your voice was so small, heart thumping against your chest as his eyes fluttered open weakly.
"P-princess?" He sounded so frail. Somehow, despite the state he was in, he managed to smile. "You came?"
You nodded. "You asked for me."
"I did. Only you can heal me from this. Only you can save me from death."
Save him?
You had him sit up to inspect the wound. "I-" Your eyes narrowed at the wound, and then at his face.
"Baldwin." He hummed weakly in response. Gritting your teeth, you ripped out the arrow from his shoulder, making him gasp in pain. "What did you do that for?!"
You waved the arrow in his face. "This hadnt penetrated through your shoulder! It wasnt even in that deep!" You threw the arrow to your side. "You werent dying! You're not even close to dying!"
He pouted, rubbing his shoulder where a small hole was. "So? It still hurt. Just bandage me-"
"Why didnt you have the physicians do it for you?!"
"Why would I when I have you? Come on, nurse me back to health, princess." He sighed when you glared at him. "Okay fine. I only called for you because well- you've been very distant with me."
Your nostril flared. "And whose fault is that?" You gritted out before turning to leave.
"Wait, princess-" He called out from behind. You werent going to listen to another word- another lie! Twisting the handle, you opened the door, only for it to be slammed shut by hand coming over you.
"Princess~" Baldwin turned you around, pushing you against the door as he locked it. "You arent going anywhere until we clear this out."
You pushed him away. "I dont want to clear it out." Baldwin's brows rose at your harsh tone. You turned around to leave again but Baldwin grabbed your wrist, tugging you to his chest.
"Y/n." His eyes pierced through you. "Why are you acting like this?"
You didnt answer. "Let me go, Baldwin." "No. Answer me-" "Let me go, Baldwin." "Princess, youre being unfair to me. What did I do to deserve such harshness from the one person I love the most-"
"You kissed Charlotte."
The color drained from his face, and the shock of being caught made him release your wrist. "Did Charlotte tell you this?"
Before either of you could react, you slapped him. Baldwin stared at you in shock, holding his cheek. You just slapped a king- the king of the HOLY LAND, but you honestly couldnt bring yourself to care about the conseuquences of your actions.
You backed away from him as tears pooled into your eyes. "You arent even denying it. You kissed her."
"Charlotte kissed me-"
"But you didnt push her back!" You screamed, tears finally flowing free. "I saw it- I fucking saw it, Baldwin!"
"Y/n listen to me-"
"If you loved Charlotte, if you planned on getting back with her, why did you propose to me?! I never wanted to marry you, Baldwin, so why did you lead me on?!"
"Thats not true! Just listen-"
"As if fooling around my back wasnt enough, you let her stay inside the castle even after I had returned! I mean I get you didnt think you would ever get to do it due to leprosy, but how desperate did you have to be to bed her while I was still in the castle?!"
"ENOUGH!" He roared, face red from rage. "You will calm down right now, or I will make you calm down!"
You looked at him betrayed and hurt, as Baldwin closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his his nose, taking deep breaths to collect himself.
"You've accused me of something. I deserve to explain myself." He stated.
"Charlotte and I were engaged when we were just children. Her father used to work for my father, as a knight. When he was on his deathbed due to getting wounded gravely when he saved my father, he made me promise that I would always take care of Charlotte." He paused before continuing. "When I found out I had leprosy, I broke off our engagement and when she came of age, I found her a suitable noble to marry. Eventually, they had a son. Her husband... he eventually lost all of his land and money in a gamble. So I tried to help Charlotte financially over the years, because I was the one who found her this man. She didnt deserve to be married to such man."
He recalled the events. "One day, Charlotte wrote to me that her husband had fallen sick. Terribly so. He kept on coughing and coughing until he began hacking up blood. My physicians told me that he had pthisis as the Greeks call it, or "consumption."
You remember studying about medival diseases- one of which was "consumption". Or in modern day- "Tuberculosis."
"I tried to help out, but there was no cure. The man died a slow and painful death. Charlotte loved her husband, despite all his faults, so his death did take a toll on her mentally. I continued to support her, but there was only so much I could do as a leper king. Things seemed to be going well until last year, when her son fell sick. The physicians said he was suffering with consumption as well, but it was still in the early stages so they had hope they could treat it. They took his son with them to the infirmary in Byzantine, where the best possible care would be provided for him. I made sure of it." He sighed. "But the odds were not in his favour. I got a letter from the head physician that Charlotte's son would not survive the winter. Charlotte was there with her son, day and night, she'd never leave his side. The physicians told her about her son's life expectancy. As expected, she was devastated, but at least now she could prepare herself and spend the rest of his days together."
"Then I announced our engagement, and I didnt write to Charlotte because I didnt think it would be appropriate to share this news with her at such a pivotal time. However, news must've reached her about my leprosy being cured and before I knew it, she was here. You were still in Egypt when Charlotte came, and she wanted to meet you. At first I thought it was because she wanted to congratulate you, but I found out that it was because she-" Baldwin shook his head, before looking right at you. "She thought you could cure her son."
"What? Why would she-" Of course, everyone thinks youre made of magic because of Baldwin.
"That's not the worst part. Charlotte's son was already dead before she had even reached Jerusalem. The physician informed me of his death, and that he had warned Charlotte of it too, but she still came here instead of being with her son."
You narrowed your eyes at him. "She came here because you asked her to-"
"I didnt! Why would I do that? Especially when you werent even here to help her?" Baldwin took a deep breath before continuing on. "When I informed her of her son's death- She lost it. She lost herself. I just- I promised to take care of her, Y/n."
"So you kissed her? To make her fall in love with you? Was that the plan?"
"I didnt kiss her, she kissed me!" Baldwin gritted out. "Even after her son's death, she wanted to meet you so that you could bring her son back to life. No matter how much I explained that it isnt possible to bring him back, she wouldnt listen. I told her that you're not some sort of witch that cast a spell to cure me-"
"So why did she kiss you?" You cut him off.
Baldwin licked his lips. "Charlotte knew the story of how you cured me. She figured that if she cant get you, then she can have me help her. In her head, she thought that since I drank your water that had your saliva, I had your essence- your healing abilities in me. So, she kissed me."
He could see the realisation dawning on you. Charlotte kissed him to get your "healing power"?
"I didnt push her back- because I was surprised. And then I pitied her. I didnt know how to break it to her again that nothing can bring her son back. That she was all alone now. Because of me. I had her marry that man, who got consumption, and then his son contracted it as well. I am the reason for her losing everything!" His eyes twinkled with tears, but he didnt let one tear slip.
Wait a minute. If Baldwin knew her son was dying and didnt call her here, then-
You closed your eyes. Fucking Guy.
Of course, only he'd be the one to address the letter as "King Baldwin IV". And you already figured out why he called Charlotte.
"We can kill Baldwin by making him sick again" Guy thought that Charlotte would bring her son, or at the very least bring a series of diseases from the Byzantine infirmary to infect Baldwin with.
Fucking idiot.
Baldwin took your hands in his. "Princess, I never cheated on you. I know I should've told you about Charlotte but... I didnt want to burden you. You already are busy trying to find your family and when you returned, you were tired and then you had your flow. I just- I didnt want to pile up more stuff on you." His hand cupped your cheek tenderly. "You know that I love you. You know that my affection for you is real. Thats why it hurt you so much when saw you her kissing me, because deep down, you knew I wouldn't betray you like this."
His blue were firm as he spoke the next words with conviction.
"You are the beginning of my soul. And you are the end of it."
Tears slipped down your face as you felt him kiss your forehead before wrapping you in his arms, continuing to kiss your forehead again and again.
Finally, you wrapped your arms around him, nodding. Accepting.
Sniffling, you pulled away before tugging him to sit on the bed as you began bandaging his shoulder. Fortunately, the wound wasnt too deep, so you didnt need to introduce "sutures" to medieval era.
Baldwin smiled softly as you tied his bandage, taking your hand and pressing a kiss on top of it. "I'm all better now." You smiled sadly.
"What?" He asked you. You sniffled again. "Princess, what is it?" He pulled you to sit on his lap, tapping your chin.
"I slapped you." You reminded him.
He nodded. "I remember."
"I'm sorry." "I know." He smiled assuringly. Honestly, you were so overcome with emotion that you hadnt realised the risk you took. Baldwin could've easily had your head chopped off at the offence.
"You're not mad?" You whispered, peeking at him from your lashes. He hummed thoughtfully. "No, not mad. I am hurt by your lack of trust me in though, but I take half the blame in this as you did see someone kissing me." He grinned at you. "I do know how you can make it up to me though."
You raised a brow.
"How about... you and I..." he tipped your chin to meet his eyes as he leaned close. "... cuddle tonight?"
"You want cuddles?" You asked, lips quirking at his childishness. He nodded excitedly. "Yes. As you know, I am gravely injured, I need all the love and attention from my beloved angel~" You squealed as he pulled you down with him on the mattress, bursting into giggles as he kissed your cheeks again and again.
After 10 minutes or so of you playing with his hair as he dreamily sighed, you suddenly had a question.
"Baldwin?" He hummed. "How did you get an arrow in your shoulder? You went hunting animals with knights."
Baldwin, with his eyes still closed, replied. "If I tell you, you'll get mad."
You tugged at his hair, making him open one eye. "Baldwin~" You warned.
"Fine, fine, I'll tell you." He rested his head on his palm. "Well, since you were being distant to me and the knight commander told me you had housed yourself in the royal chapel under the excuse of "not wanting to make me sick", I figured I need to find a way to make you be close to me..."
Your face dropped at realisation.
"YOU SHOT YOURSELF WITH AN ARROW?!"
He shook his head in disbelief. "No, dont be silly. How would that be even possible?" You sighed in relief.
"I threatened my expert archer to shoot me with an arrow."
-
Sibylla burst through the door as soon as she had heard of her brother's grave injury, only to witness an odd sight:
Baldwin, with his shoulder bandaged, was doing sit-ups in front of Y/n, who was sitting on his bed, glaring at him with angry tears streaming down her face.
"Princess~ I said I'm sorryyyyy" Sibylla giggled, watching her younger sibling whine to you, but he shut up as another tear slipped down your cheek.
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So, thoughts?
None of you guessed that reason for the kiss,did you? I better fucking get all the comments and asks or else I'm wreaking havoc
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boowritess · 2 days
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so apparently it's really fucking hard to get into the SAS. and ontop of that I've been getting tiktoks of people going around an army base asking why they joined. most responses were to pay off student loans, bills, school, (someone said there's was 6 years of prison or school and *mental note for idea*), the recruiter lied or spoilt them, barracks bunny.
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141 (poly?) x notsobaddasssoldier!reader
and now i can't stop thinking of soldier!reader. who really half-assed their way through everything - only doing the job for the money and to pay off student loans + they had nothing better to do.
who somehow ends up being adopted by Price (kinda like Gaz i guess ???) all because reader happened to be in the right place at the right time and saved Price's ass while managing to complete a mission the Task Force were doing.
and it's not that you saved his ass or completed the mission that makes Price go *this is mine* - it's the fact that afterwards all you can say is-
"this shit is so not worth paying off my student loans."
"oh fuck i forgot to cancel my subscription. fuckk- waste of fucking money"
- all the while a building is burning in front of you but yeah just not at all concerned about what had just happened. so price just *grabs you by the back of your neck and holds you up, claiming you as part of his task force now.*
(lol you probably can't do that irl but this is fiction sooo suck my ass.)
and laswell's just like no... they are very much still green john. way too green. no.
but it's too late. he's already introducing you to the task force. singing your praises and you're just like
"man he promised to pay off my student loans and give me food." basically how ur recruiter got ya ass.
enough said. you get the whole off the books speech, saving the world by doing things others wouldn't like. but u couldn't give a rats ass - you should but nah...
and like... you know you're the rookie... you're still green... but some of the shit 141 do you just...
"so you just gonna kidnap the wife AND the child...? right... kid, you wanna watch bluey? here..."
"and you do this often...? crazy."
but you don't exactly protest. how could you with how much you get paid. you kinda just side-eye and look away when it's geta a lil crazy. *bombastic side-eye*
and the other 141 guys - oh my days. become just as enormed as price and want to start really trying to amplify your skills. but every time, they start explaining how to do things - the best way to go about a situation or how to fight a certain way.
you pull this face. like your top lip pulls back, your eyebrows scrunch together, and there's a slight frown on your lips as they speak. like you look confused/disgusted. but you don't even realise cause-
"why're you pulling that face?" 141
"that's... that's just my focusing face..."
"oh..." 141 feels bad
then when they do take you in feild you're shaking your head no. like you haven't been around that long. what the fuck? now you're bout to infiltrate an enemy base!?!?!
"can i just wait in the car?"
"no." price
"i'm gonna vomit."
"aim at the enemy." ghost
people think that because you're suddenly in this badass task force that surely they're just using you for your assets.
they all think you're the 141 barracks bunny. and maybe you should be pissed or annoyed or grossed out. but all you can do is sigh and pause from the burger price got you, and let out a long exhale.
"fuck... maybe i can just do onlyfans or be a pornstar... shit maybe it's not too late..."
"military is bascially sex work - selling my body..."
"not that different from what i'm doing now. body being used, check. body sore in the strangest places, check."
your tone so empty, blank and nonchalant, but there's a serious look in your eyes that when you grab your phone out to maybe do a little research on how you could do that, your phone is snatched from your hand by one of the guys and they walk out the room without a second look back.
with an annoyed huff, you go back to eating your burger. but suddenly, you turn to the person who genuinely thought you were a barracks bunny.
"hey you think if i be a barracks bunny i get out of missions and shit?"
"...that's not how it works..." rando.
"fuck."
and maybe you try...
like you go to price's office and the guys are already in there, chatting about something that you should really pay attention too but you can't be assed. instead you unashamedly start to speak...
"if i suck ya'll dicks can i get out the mission?"
"no. you still have to join." gaz says amused
"even if you-" *que long sigh from price* "even if you suck our dicks."
"that's fucked up. i should've done porn."
and with the most hurt and broken-hearted look on your face, you leave the office, closing the door with a dramatic sigh. the guys just stare at the door in... confusion, amusement, and maybe arousal if ya'll dig that
idk man just gimmie more soldier!reader who just really ain't the fucked, there for money, lowkey hungry and doesn't know what the fuck is happening. kinda a pet or little sibling energy that the 141 love.
bonus*
"wait so they aren't sucking our dicks?" *soap says getting slapped in the back of the head by ghost
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a/n: brain is rottinnggg. i should be doing so much other shit but... cod just consumes my brain 24/7
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deadsetobsessions · 2 days
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Woo! I’ve finally got time to write! Had to go to a wedding, suffered through eight whole hours of pure disorganized mess, and got mad about it. Emphasis on the disorganized part. So, I bring you: party planner!Danny Phantom.
——
If anyone was to see him now, they’d definitely think that it was odd that Danny was the one in the party planning field. They wouldn’t be surprised if it was Jazz, but Danny ‘wing it’ Fenton planning things? Never.
But here he was, clipboard in hand and checking off hors d’œuvres from the list.
“Anton, could you do a check of the sound system? Make sure everything’s working?”
“Got it.”
Danny lifted the buffet table, laden with heavy food, and used a bit of his ghostly strength to move it over.
“Perfect.”
He double checked the seating chart, and readjusted the miniature ice sculpture centerpieces he made for the party.
Wayne Manor was all lit up and perfectly dusted. Danny ran through his mental checklist. Tabled? Check. Dance floor clean and scuff free? Check. DJ booth and open bar running without issues? Check. Live band setting up with back up instruments and strings? Check. Decorations on point? Oh, he’ll have to get the team to readjust those.
Time to check-
“Danny! How’s it going?” Bruce Wayne beamed and slung an arm around his shoulder.
Danny smiled politely. “Mr. Wayne. Everything is going smoothly. Would you like to check the food the chefs have made?”
“Sure, sure! I definitely need to eat before I drink, haha!”
“That’s a good idea! Good thing you’re about to try a bunch of food.” Danny matched the billionaire’s energy. He’s going to get paid so good.
“So, Danny, are you going to college?”
Danny passed him a small sampler. “Ah, I can’t. Some stuff happened in high school and I don’t really have the grades or the money to.”
Plus, his credentials were in another plane of existence and he hadn’t figured out how to transfer those records yet.
“You could still attend college, I’m sure! Your parents might be able to help pay?” Bruce nommed on the food. He gave a thumbs up.
Danny sighed. “It’s not always an option. Plus, my parents are dead.”
In this universe. His own? Alive and kicking GIW ass.
“Oh, I see-”
“Father.”
“Woah!” Danny blinked, looking down at the baby Wayne the popped up next to his father’s elbow.
“Damian! What’s wrong, kiddo?”
Damian shot his father a flat glare and dragged the laughing billionaire away.
Danny snorted and returned to his tasks. He has to check the speeches and the lighting. Hm… he doesn’t have time to adjust everything how he wants it.
Good thing he knew a guy that could stop time.
“Hey, Clockwork?”
——
“Father, I understand your inclination towards adopting poor black haired and blue eyed orphans, but I would like to remind you that I have far too many siblings to be adding yet another bumbling buffoon.”
“I was not considering that, Damian.”
Damian let go of his wrist with a grimace. “Denial is not becoming of a Wayne, Father.”
“Yeah, B. I could see you grab the adoption papers from all the way over here.” Tim adjusted his tie. “Anyways, Dick is on his way. He’s running a little late because of some stuff in Blüdhaven.”
“Thank you, Tim.”
——
“Batman.”
“Oracle.”
“Look at the footage of Wayne manor.” Oracle pulled up the video surveillance scattered through out the manor. Specifically, the ones of the west ballroom. Daniel Fenton stood in his spot, looking down at his clipboard but a second later, he's moved three inches to the left and the decorations had subtly been moved more aesthetic spots. "I think Danny might be a meta. We'll have to look into him."
Batman stood up, allowing the fondness he had for Danny as Bruce Wayne drain away. This is a potential threat, and Batman will treat him like one. (Danny will remember this.)
"Contact Flash. I need him to scan for any temporal disturbance."
"Understood."
——
"Brucie!" A socialite squealed as she came to bestow hugs upon a long suffering Bruce. "My god, this place is gorgeous! You must give me your planner's number. I could absolutely use some fresh eyes for the Annual Spring Party."
"Awe, Janine! I gotta keep some of the good things to myself!" Bruce whined, inwardly smirking as he saw his kids mock-gagging behind the lady's back. "What if your party's cooler than mine? What should I do then? You're already so gorgeous! Why, is that a Birkin?"
Janine lit up and all but forgot about getting Danny's contact information. Bruce patted his own back for a job well done, even if he had to listen to Janine's itemized list of random luxury goods she had to buy before being offered a bag.
He's a Wayne. The Gotham Hermes wished they could partner with the Waynes. Plus, he's pretty sure he's got at least three of those bags somewhere in the manor to bait out Selina.
Catching Danny sliding in between the servers and going towards the kitchen, Bruce quickly excused himself with a disarming himbo grin.
Time to subtly grill the kid.
——
"Hey, Timmy?"
"Hello, Dick," Tim smiled elegantly at the couple who's companies he was about to bring six feet underground and excused himself. "What's up?"
"Have you noticed that the ice sculptures haven't melted at all?"
Tim blinked, eyes sliding over to a harried Danny being followed by Bruce on a mission. Oof.
"Freeze?" He asked mildly, face innocent of any nefarious thoughts.
"That's what I'm thinking." Dick smiled sunnily, throwing an arm around Tim's shoulders.
"Heard the guy's living out near Crime Alley. We should get Jay to check it out." Tim pretended to laugh, grinning as his brains made plans for a stakeout.
"Heard, my ass. You totally stalked him, didn't you?"
"Got proof?"
Dick snorted, removing his arm. "Nope. I'll let Jay know. You should probably help Danny out, though, he looks like he's about to lose his temper."
"Bruce is at it again." Tim sighed. "Yeah, okay."
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writeforfandoms · 2 days
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You held yourself back from John, sitting on the couch next to him, rather than right up against his side. Insecurity kept your shoulders tight, your head aimed firmly at the TV.
"Love?" John touched two fingers to the back of your hand.
"Hm?" You feigned ignorance, gaze darting to him and away again.
"What's going on in that pretty head?" His fingers curled around your wrist, stroking the thin skin of your inner wrist.
"Nothing." You swallowed. You'd never been good at lying to him.
John hummed softly, considering, before he scooted closer to you, warm thigh pressing against yours. "Wanna try that again?"
You sighed, closing your eyes, your emotion threatening briefly to drown you. "I just..." You stopped, struggling for words.
John waited patiently, warm and unmoving at your side. You knew he'd wait there until you opened up, all night if need be.
So you gave in.
"I worry, sometimes."
"About what?" His facial hair brushed your temple before his lips did.
"That I'm too... needy. Too clingy." Eyes still closed, your lips twisted in frustration. It wasn't easy to admit this, habit keeping the words trapped in your chest.
"Never." John moved, turning to wrap you fully in his arms, pulled into the warmth of his chest. "I never think that of you. I love you."
You swallowed hard against the emotion rising in your throat, hiding your face in his neck. "I love you too," you mumbled, a bit muffled.
"I've got you," he murmured, one big hand cupping the back of your head. "I've got you, love."
Neither of you moved for a long time, and John never commented on the damp patch on the collar of his shirt.
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starwarsbian · 3 days
Text
feels better like this (high!spencer)
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gif by @imagining-in-the-margins
NSFW 18+ minors DNI
put your age in your bio this is a fucking threat
your pretty boyfriend, spencer, tries smoking weed for the first time and it ends in whining and shaking hands
wc: 5.6k (whoops)
a/n: idc that some of this is cliche if you don't like it look away
cw: weed, intoxicated sex, p in v, oral (f! receiving), thigh fucking, unprotected sex, established relationship, praise
.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .
laughing as you unlock the door to your shared apartment, spencer puts his hand on your lower back and follows you inside. you’re both dressed for hotch’s birthday party, which he really didn’t want.
you have on a light blue dress, made of shiny satin. it’s a midi dress, which isn’t really normal for you. you’re more of a pants kind of person, but spencer has been telling you how beautiful you look all night. he’s wearing tan slacks and a button-down that’s a similar color to what you have on.
with his hand still on the small of your back, spencer pulls you in for a kiss; it’s soft and slow. you both smile into it as you pull away, he smells like his cologne.
“i need to change, i’ll be right back,” you say and walk towards your shared bedroom. you decide on a star wars t-shirt of spencer’s and blue plaid pajama pants that are also his. spencer doesn’t mind at all when you wear his clothes.
going to the kitchen, you find spencer leaning against the counter with a glass of water. he smiles and raises his eyebrows when he sees what you have on.
“you look..really good in my clothes,” he replies.
he does the same thing you did, goes to change clothes. when he comes back he has a black t-shirt and red plaid pajama pants.
“you also look really good in your clothes, just so you know.” he laughs at your comment and follows you to your living room. “is it okay if i smoke, spence?”
“oh, yeah! for sure,” he says and kisses your head. your smoking stuff is casually sitting on the end table on the left side of your couch. your grinder is already full from earlier and you take the bowl off your bong to pack. spencer looks at you, his eyes soft and filled with admiration for you. you put the full bowl onto your clean bong that you cleaned earlier in the day. you've been smoking around spencer the whole time you've been together; you used to hide the frequency though, for fear he would thinnk its too much and not like you anymore before. spencer didn't care how often you smoked he just wants you to be who you want to be without regard to what other people think. he's never, not once, to participate in the action but you had assumed it was because he wasn't interested. I mean, the whole team has heard his whole "six minutes are taken off your life per cigarette" ramble. you wonder if he knows statistics like that about smoking weed.
you look towards him and try to decode his thoughts as he’s watching you. “do..do you want to try?” you ask.
“oh..i’ve never..,” he says shyly with blood rushing to his face with a tiny bit of embarrassment. he really feels like he should have already done this at 26.
“really? you spent so much time like, in college. long enough for three doctorates and you’ve never smoked weed?”
he shakes his head and looks at you. he's really hoping you're not going to make fun of him. its never been that he didn't want to or he thought badly of people who did smoke.
“yes, really. no one ever offered, honestly. which i understand, i mean i definitely didn’t look like i’d say yes. i also didn’t really ‘hangout’ with anyone who smoked. what about me says i was friends with the 'cool kids?'"
“i guess i never really thought about it. but i cleaned the bong earlier. so it’s not gross or anything, do you want to try it? with me? i’ll be nice, i promise. i assumed you’d already tried and didn’t like it.”
“yeah. i’ll try but i don’t really know what i’m doing.” he feels relief that you didn't say anything mean or do anything but ask a genuine question.
“you’ve seen me do this dozens of times at this point. but watch me again now and i’ll help you for your turn.”
he nods and watches as you light the lighter and tuck your hair behind your ear. you light the bowl and pull smoke into the chamber, you lift the bowl out to inhale. you smile at spencer during your exhale.
“do that again. you’re pretty..show me again.”
you do as he says but a little slower so he can see each step, very simple steps. he studies you closely and is identifying the mechanics of how it works, its obviously not complicated but he feels better knowing what should happen.
“here. your turn. do you want me to light it for you? that’s not an uncommon thing for someone’s first time.”
he smiles, again. “yeah..that’d be nice, i think.” you hand him the piece and he puts his pretty lips in the top just as you did and looks up at you with his gorgeous eyes. you light the bowl and watch as your boyfriend takes his first hit. you make sure to stop him quickly so he doesn’t take too much and choke. he exhales and looks at you with watery eyes.
“oh, god that burns,” he says and turns away from you to cough a few times. you hurry to get him his water and bring it to him. you don't laugh at him at all because you know the feeling of embarrassment of something laughing at you after the burning pain in your lungs.
“here, take a drink. i know it burns, im sorry. it is hot smoke though.” that makes him laugh, again, with the bong in your hands again you take your turn and look at him with a questioning look afterward as you offer it to him again, eyebrows rising in surprise when he nods and takes it from your hands.
“want me to light it for you again, baby?”
“yes, please.”
you repeat this process but this time he handles it much better and manages to exhale smoothly before calmly taking another drink of water. it soothes the burning in his throat but his eyes still water. “again?” you ask him. spencer nods and puts his mouth back in position to hit the bong again.
your pretty boyfriend take a little baby hit before grinning and passing the bong to you. the bowl is cashed so you empty it and pause to ask spencer if he’d like to pack it. you think it’d be cute to watch him get kinda the whole experience. you’re not going to let him smoke more than 1 or 2 more hits. at least until he has a few moments to feel his reaction. you're honestly scared he's going to freak out and not enjoy himself at all but so far he just seems happy, giddy even.
“you wanna pack it, spence? it really isn’t my favorite thing to do. and obviously it’s easy, here, take this.”
his hands shake a little with what you assume must be nervousness about messing something up. “spencer, you’re not going to do anything wrong? go ahead, baby. just put the flower in there for me and put in place.”
he does it exactly what you say; he didn’t spill anything and looks at you for approval. you give him a big smile and observe him place the bowl back where it belongs.
it’s your turn and you feel spencer’s hand on your thigh as you inhale and exhale. you repeat while spencer looks at you, mesmerized. he looks at you like you put all of the stars in the sky and for him you might as well have. he's never felt so comfortable with someone before.
“your turn, again. try to light it yourself, yeah?”
“okay,” he says before accepting the lighter you’ve offered him. he does it all by himself, perfectly, of course. he does everything perfectly. you nod for him to do it again. he coughs after this one and to make him feel better you make yourself a little uncomfortable with your next hit so you cough too. by the time you’re done hacking, spencer is rubbing soothing circles on your thigh.
“i do believe, im high now,” he tells you and then asks, “are you done? i like watching you, even coughing. your eyes look beautiful right now, actually.”
you shake your head no and spencer turns his attention to the TV for a little while as you finish up. his hand is spread out on your thigh now, moving up and down. his touch makes your stomach do flips and crave more.
you put the bong down and turn to face him. “will you kiss me, spencer?” the unfamiliar feeling is fogging up his mind a little so he doesn’t hesitate for a second before pressing your lips together.
the kiss is needy and spencer feels like you’re touching him everywhere but he wants more anyway. you crawl onto his lap and sit down, pushing him back against the couch. your hands are in his hair as you tug just a little. spencer lets out a small moan into your kiss and leans his head back, allowing you access to his neck.
filled with delight you start to kiss below his jaw and move down his neck. usually spencer is worried about you leaving marks on his throat because of work. but when you switch to the other side and start sucking on his flesh to mark him as yours he doesn’t protest. he does the exact opposite of protest and groans as he grabs your hips. spencer doesn’t curse very often but right now he’s letting a quiet slur of stuttering “fuck”s out of his mouth even though he’s biting his lip to try not to. spencer can usually contain himself and insists he reacts "appropriately" tou your touch. you move back to his lips and soon your tongue is moving slow against his. after a few moments he pulls away to catch his breath.
“being touched by you feels so good right now..i.. don’t even know what to do with myself,” he whispers in the crook of your neck.
you’re high too and feel the same way, his hands on your hips are sending radiating heat to your core and when he touches your thighs you get butterflies. this is how it usually starts but he's being much more touchy than normal; you have no complaints.
“you don’t have to do anything. let me make you feel good, spencer..”
he whimpers at the thought of it and eagerly nods. “what are you gonna do?”
“nothing here. let’s go to the bedroom, yeah?” you take his hand and he trails behind you to your bedroom.
“get on the bed, baby,” you instruct.
you remove his pajama pants from yourself and go to straddle him again. his hands find your thighs again and he grips them as you grind down against him.
he won’t stop releasing tiny little whimpers that are driving you crazy, he’s looking at you in a way that seems like begging. you’re still grinding on him and you feel him start to get hard against you.
“awe, there we go,” you tease “you like that, spence?” you speed up your movements a little and he gasps.
“answer me, spencer.”
“yes. yes i like it. don’t stop, you’re so fucking hot. i’m so obsessed with your thighs. you’re so soft and, fuck, it feels amazing.”
“my thighs? you like them?”
“mhm, so much. love to touch them”
you have an idea. “do you wanna touch them in a..different way?”
he’s still whining at the movements you’re making on top of him and he doesn’t ask you to explain just nods.
you move back a little and slip your hand under his waist band. he groans loudly as your fingers touch him for the first time tonight. “take your shirt off.”
he does as he’s told and bucks his hips up into your hand. you don’t give him anything more than you already are just trailing your fingers up and down his length, swiping your thumb across his tip. you get off of him and tug at his waistband, he gets the hint and removes his pants and boxers before he lays down and you crawl back onto him.
you settle down like you might start to ride him but instead you very softly settle spencer’s length between your soft thighs. he whines your name and thrusts himself between them further trying to get friction. you smile at him, in amusement.
“that’s exactly what i was talking about..you wanna fuck my thighs, spence?” you lean forward and ask in his ear.
“oh my god. please? please let me do that. how do i do that? you want it?” he’s flustered and babbling, lacking his usual conciseness. “yeah, i want it. why else would i offer? i wanna see you lose it over being between a part of me that isn’t inherently sexual, you know? like…if i liked your hands a lot. you’d let me use your hand to get off and i..im gonna let you fuck my thighs until you cum all over them.” spencer is looking at you with wide eyes. he didn’t expect you to say so many words but your answer has his length throbbing and his brain at a loss for words.
“how about i let you do it from behind? you can slide yourself right in between them, would you like that?”
spencer’s head is spinning and all he can think about is how much he wants to feel you like that. he’d never thought about it before but now? he’d do anything at the moment to press his cock between your plush legs and feel you in such a different, intimate, way—in a way no one else has had you. he nods again and looks at you with pleading eyes.
“spence, that’s not really an answer. how do you want me, baby? i wanna make you feel so good for your first time like this.”
he whines because he just wants to feel you but chokes out “please..from behind?”
“that’s what i was hoping you’d want,” you say with confidence.
spencer tugs off your shirt and watches as you settle on the bed. you keep pillows under your arms and keep your legs together. he runs his hands down your body and takes special care to tease the inside of your thighs. you moan as he drags his fingers through your warm, using it to coat his cock and groaning something about how wet you are as he spreads it onto your thighs as well.
spencer eases himself between your thighs, cursing and snapping his hips forward. he slowly moves back and forth between your thighs as his grip on your body tightens a little. all he can think about is how he’s so glad you had this idea because it feels like his body is burning with pleasure that pulses through him. he regrets never trying this with you before and would love to do it again. it feels better like this.
“why.. have you never gotten me high and had sex with me until now,” he whines into your ear as he leans down. he's panting and being far more vocal than usual, saying your name and holding your hips tight. he's desperately pulling you back against his movements as he uses your soft thighs to pleasure himself.
you move your hand down towards your thighs and spencer thinks you’re going to try to get some relief for yourself but instead you use it rub over his tip each time it protrudes from between your soft flesh. spencer’s hips stutter and you feel his hand shaking against your lower back. he's completely lost in the moment and with you; absolutely drowning in the way you make him feel. he's so worked up and can't catch his breath but wants to feel you closer. you’ve never seen or felt him act like this during sex. the shaking and whining is honestly a huge compliment and makes you feel accomplished and happy that you could do this for him.
“i’m so close. i’m so so close. fuck. can i cum on them? let me finish on your pretty thighs. let me claim them like that.”
the last phrase sends shiver through your body and you waste no time before telling him “yes, please do. that’s what i’m here for tonight, spence.” even though he hasn't even touched you where you want him you're bordering on dripping wet for him and he can see the glistening in the bedroom light.
he moans your name and within seconds he’s spurting pretty white ropes on your ass and thighs. he’s fucking up into his hand and it’s a gorgeous sight to see looking over your shoulder. he's whimpering by the time he finishes and you turn around to do a quick swipe of your tongue from bottom to top; this makes him pull away in overstimulation but gently run his fingers through your hair.
he lays down on the bed, trying to catch his breath. his face is flushed and his hair is disheveled. when he can breath again he turns off to kiss you, it’s soft and hesitant just because he doesn’t know if you want something from him. he wants to give you something and he runs his hands down your sides again.
“isn’t it your turn?” spencer says as he starts to kiss your neck and chest, his hand moves down to touch just outside of where you need him. he's marking you as his in another way now; sucking on your collarbone and basically purring in your ear in anticipation.
“yeah, i guess it is. what did you want to do?”
“i want you on my tongue. i want to taste you, i can’t even imagine what that would be like right now. will you let me?”
you press your thighs together at the thought, trying to feel anything at the moment because you want him so badly. you love when he's articulate with his words and sure of himself when he asks consent.
you nod and he moves his kisses to your chest and pauses to play with your left nipple with his right hand and put the other one in his mouth. he sucks and soothes the skin with his tongue, little touches of his teeth have you whining for him. he finds your impatience very attractive. he wants you to need him.
he kisses even lower, stopping at the top of your thighs to admire them and spreading them further apart to make room for him. he uses his thumb to lightly expose more of you to himself. wetness coats his thumb as he teases up and down from your clit to your entrance.
“so, so pretty,” he says under his breath. you look down at him just in time to see him suck his thumb clean and make eye contact with him. “mmm,” he hums in approval, “taste so good, pretty girl."
you blush and watch as he licks a wide strip from bottom to top of your sex. the feeling sends shivers down your spine. spencer prods deeper into your heat and meets your clit. he does soft, almost massaging, movements with his tongue. he gently envelops your bundle of nerves with his mouth and confidently slides his tongue against every place he can.
your thighs start to close around him but he holds them back open, lapping up your wetness like it’s his only job in the world to make you orgasm. he’s thorough and presses one finger to your entrance, he looks up at you for approval and smiles when you buck your hips, nod and whine all at once. he’s never said it before but he loves when you fall apart for him, he daydreams about it at work. it’s what he thinks about in hotel rooms at night when he’s alone. right now his mind is filled with nothing but you, your hands in his hair and the warmth of your body around him. he’s obsessed with learning your body and always has been but right now? his body is filled with the need to make you cum.
he presses his finger up inside you and finds the spot he knows makes your legs shake and your breath hitch in your throat. he moves slowly inside you, really taking his time to gauge your reactions. you’d think spencer would get more sloppy or impatient or maybe even lazy as he’s high but none of that happened. if anything it increased his patience in his acts. he looks up at you with glossy eyes and smiles against you when you blush at his gaze.
he moves his tongue down your folds and carefully licks around his fingers that are stretching you open and prodding against your walls with delicious fervor. he finds his way back to your clit and closes his eyes to focus on sucking and licking at your bud in his mouth trying to push you closer to the edge. it’s working and within the minute you’re moaning his name and cursing under your breath — all he can focus on is you you you how he needs you. your taste, your sounds and warm skin flood his senses.
he feels you tighten around his fingers and hears the whimper you let out right before you’re feeling white hot pleasure course through you from your center. you’re throbbing by the end and spencer still isn’t stopping. you whine and half heartedly try to push his head away.
“too much, spence. ‘m too sensitive,” you say.
he stops just long enough to look into your eyes and say “i don’t care. i’m enjoying myself and i know you like it when i make you feel so good you cry.”
your orgasm made even more slick gather and coat his hand. he keeps his assault of your most sensitive places steady while you start to lose yourself in his touch. his hands splayed across your thighs with his finger tips holding you tightly in place have you dizzy with want.
your second climax is quickly approaching and you pray that Spencer doesn't take it away from you. he's not one for orgasm denial he certaintly prefers overstimulation. it washes over you and you're babbling his name; unable to form words. your hips are trying to buck up against his face but he holds you steady and lets you ride out your pleasure on his tongue. you're not crying though, so he isn't done with you.
"i want you, spencer. please use me to get off. i'll let you do whatever you want. you're always so good to me, let it be your turn again. what will make you feel best?"
he's amused that you're worried about him in this situation as if your pleasure doesn't have his head spinning and his heart racing. it took everything in him not to grind against the bed when he was eating you out. he felt that would be selfish though and knew you'd want to help him. you're still trying to catch your breath and he's still rubbing all over your thighs. he continues to trail over the top and underneath and on all parts of your bikini line. he's such a goddamn tease but doesn't answer your question he just looks at you, waiting for you to say something else.
"do you want to smoke more, spence?"
he tries to hide his surprise and excitement but ultimately fails. he handled the first round really well and you decide he can likely handle more this time around.
"do you want to smoke more? its your stuff, baby. you dont have to share."
"quit being silly. everything else that's mine is yours…my body is yours and you're worred about a bowl or two to make you want me even more?"
he nods in agreement and blushes. he takes it upon himself to leave the bedroom and bring your things back in from the living room. you're both still naked and it feels more intimate like this, spencer never lets you feel self conscious and you do the same for him. neither of you are embarassed or worried about it in this moment. he gives you a soft kiss before he smiles and says,
"i've brought you a gift." he gives you the bong, its pink by the way and the bowl is heart shaped.
he already knows what to do this time and is far less nervous. you take the piece from him and get to work filling the bowl with ground flower from your grinder, that is also pink and has a heart on top. he waits patiently and just spends time admiring you. your hair is messed up and so is his but he really believes you look beautiful; he thinks you're perfect and can't wait to get his hands on you again and feel you writhe underneath him. he shakes his head trying to focus on something other than the dirty thoughts hes having about you like the way you'll beg for his cock, how your legs shake when he's done with you and the marks that'll be left tomorrow.
you let Spencer smoke as much as he thinks he can handle in comparison to last time; he still coughs and needs his water everytime but you're kind of impressed by his perseverance. he keeps up with you mostly, until your last few inhales when he watches you with low red eyes. he feels almost dizzy but in a good way and wants to be in you really really badly, he cant think of another way to describe it and thats how he knows he's right where he needs to be for what happens next.
again, he teases and touches your inner thighs and trails the crease between them; obviously trying to have some effect on you and it works. he knows just how to touch you to make you want all of him. as you finish up his touching becomes more insistent and maybe more suggestive as he slowly moves closer and closer to where you need him.
"you all done, pretty girl? gonna let me touch you again?"
you nod eagerly and pull him on top of you as you lean back on the pillows on the bed before meeting his lips with yours. the kissing gets intense fast, with his hands touching you a little less softly as he's filled with need. you're rutting up against the thigh he has resting between yours and nip at his bottom lip gently as he pulls away to look into your eyes. "i want you in me, spencer. i've been waiting all night. waiting since you started looking at me hungrily at that party. i know you were thinking about me like this instead of fully clothed sitting on your lap in front of all of your friends." he groans at your words and gives in to you, no longer teasing after the way you're talking to him. he's still on top of you as he trails his fingers down your throat then stomach and finally resting with a thumb on your bundle of nerves. he presses light circles and slowly slides two fingers in that you take with ease. he decides that you're wet enough and you've never minded a little discomfort at first anyway. you beg him to move even if it hurts a little.
spencer lines up with your entrance and very, very slowly enters you as he throws his head back in pleasure and grans your hip hard enough it might leave bruises tomorrow. he can hardly stop himself from taking you roughly right there like his fucked up brain wants him to. insead, he holds back and begins moving in and out at a slow, steady pace. his movements spread your wetness over him and soon he's bottomed out. hes so deep you swear you can feel it in your stomach as he presses against your walls. he feels you clenching down on him and he swears under his breath.
'fuck. fuck, you're so tight. god, and warm. feels so good."
he's still moving slowly in you and you're starting to feel impatient. but rushing spencer isn't something that really happens; he loves to take his time with you like this until you're begging for his cock to move faster inside you. he sees your water eyes begging for him without saying a single word.
"awe, does my baby want more? say please."
"please. please fuck me. i've been so good and have done everything you've said."
he hums in agreement and says nothing as he speeds up and changes the angle of his thrusts slightly as he fucks into you. you keep tightening around him and its driving him crazy, he can't get enough of you at the moment. his hands are shaking again as he holds himself up with one and massages your breast with the other. his hands splay wide across your skin and his hair hangs down in his face just a little while he moves inside you.
his pace is steady and his hips only falter when he hits something in you that makes you tighten around him and arch your back into his touch. soon his length is touching perfectly against that sweet spot in you that makes your head spin and your hands desperately grab for the sheets or spencer in general.
he switches to something much faster and quickly your nails are scratching long lines across his back, hard enough his back will sting tomorrow and he might wince at the feeling of his shirt rubbing against the wounds you've left him with; he'll like it though and grin to himself as he thinks about the way he had you the night before.
with your nails dragging down his flesh in needy bliss, spencer can't even think to talk you through it like he normally would. he's hardly ever at a loss for words but he's high and doesn't know how to cope with all the sensations he's feeling. what he knows should feel like pain against his skin, your scratches, feels like pleasure that spreads through his entire body; with his existence aflame from your touch.
he's lost all sense of the words "soft" and "rough" and is focused on pushing you over the edge again. he's getting close again but is trying to hold back until he pulls another orgasm from your overwhelmed body. the sound of skin hitting skin is filling the room as well as your pleas and unending moans of your lover's name. his hand intertwines with yours as he wrecks you just like you wanted. you wanted Spencer to be a little reckless, a little thoughtless in the process of tonight's sex.
thinking about the way he whined and whimpered between your thighs earlier is pushing you closer and closer as a knot in your stomach tightens. spencer's fingers find your clit and rub quick small circles in the way he knows you like. he's pulling you apart at the seams and doing everything he can to coax your orgasm from you before he finishes himself. since you've gotten together he's learned how to get you to let go completely and surrender yourself to how he makes you feel.
his breathing is heavy and he knows a few words will be enough to make you unravel under him. "come on, angel. I can feel you're close, let go for me. come on, let go. you're such a good girl, do what I tell you and cum around my cock. let me feel you."
his voice is low and gravelly in your ear as he practically begs you to finish so he can too. "you want me to cum in you? want me to fill you up? i wont until you finish under me."
you desperately want to feel him pulsing and filling you so you focus and close your eyes underneath him. normally, he would tell you to open your eyes and look at him when he's dragging you off the edge towards more white hot bliss. warmth spreads through your body, all the way to your fingertips as you start to lost contact with the real world. your climax washes over you in waves that match the pulsing Spencer feels from you.
your orgasm is enough to send him reeling over his own ledge as his thrusts start to turn irratic and lose uniformity. he moans into the kiss you pull him down into and he stops moving completely to pump his cum into you. towards the end he moves his hips slowly against yours, grinding into you and fucking his seed further into you. you hum in approval until he pulls out which leaves you feeling empty and forces a whine and frown out of you.
"baby, don't pout right now. I'll give you more later, or tomorrow, or both if you want. we need to do that more. you looked so beautiful, do you know that? absolutely perfect losing touch with reality under me." he falls onto the bed beside you and opens his arms for you to rest against his chest. he's moderately sticky with sweat but you don't care, just loving the physical contact spencer allows you to have at this moment. you start to drift off into sleep to the soothing sound of your boyfriend's heartbeat. he softly rouses you away and reminds you that you need to pee after sex, "to prevent a UTI, of course." you groan but pull yourself off of him as you tread to the bathroom, spencer's cum threatening to leak out of you and run down your thighs.
spencer enters the bathroom a few minutes to ask if you'd like to shower with him. "i wasn't super gentle with you this time, let me take care of you and clean you up."
who are you to deny him caring for you like he wants to? it feels better to give him what he wants.
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dduane · 1 day
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Hi Diane!
I promise this will end in an ask, but I have a story to share first, if you have the time.
I’m very new to Tumblr, in fact, I was moved to finally create an account to send you this message, but I’ve been casually poking around for a bit. A quick google last summer told me that Tumblr is the best place to get Good Omens news from Neil himself, but it didn’t do the courtesy of warning me just how magnetic this particular bastion of chaotic creative internet mayhem can be. This story is one example. Fun note, when I was composing this message my husband looked over my shoulder at the literal essay I’d typed out and suggested that I maybe, perhaps, might consider shortening it to the length of a conversation that could take place in an elevator. Or in line at the coffee shop. However, i’m not one sacrifice enormity for brevity.
Your post the other day regarding the cover for your novel, Stealing the Elf King’s Roses, got me thinking. First, that it was a very genuine thing to share, second, that I wasn’t entirely sure why I wasn’t immediately familiar with your work, and third, what a fun visual challenge. I was still thinking about it when I should have been sleeping, so I decided to dig in. I almost stopped reading your bio at the ‘blah blah blah’ because I was feeling quite bad about my media literacy at that point, but then I saw that you’re well-known for the Young Wizard series.
The Young Wizard series.
I said I’d try to keep it brief and this is my best attempt. I read books 1-5 of that series during the hardest, strangest, most heartbreaking time in my childhood when I desperately needed a different reality than my own. What I found in your novels was so much better than that. Your stories, your characters, your vision, helped teach me to ground myself in my strengths, frame my reality with hope and purpose, and how to build the spaces I needed within myself to find the compassion, forgiveness, joy and peace I so desperately needed. One of the things I built within myself on my healing journey was a beautiful jeweled box. It resides in my mind just off of I-335 in Topeka, Kansas. I was driving through the flint hills on a road trip from Milwaukee to Wichita when I finally finished the long process of constructing it, so that is where it stays, shining in the sun and twinkling under the stars. This box contains everything I experienced that couldn’t come with me as I grew. Crafting it was a lengthy, emotional, wrenching process, and it’s the best thing I’ve ever done to allow me to become the person I am today. I used visit it every now and again, to make sure the jewels are still bright, but I’m very careful to not jostle the lid.
I’m recounting all of this to you because two nights ago I quite suddenly found myself standing beside my box for the first time in almost a decade. I could feel the gravel under my slipper socks as I gently opened the lid to see my copies of your books resting at the very top. I wasn’t immediately familiar with your work when I saw your name because it is so inextricable from the very fabric of how healed myself, that I accidentally let your words fall under the closed lid of the very box they helped enable me to make. Nothing else clamored to be released as I carefully pulled them out, and once more closed the lid.
So, the ask. I will be brief here - I’m an artist. Not currently working professionally as I’m exploring a different career path, but I’m usually working on a personal project or two. I needed a new one and was still intrigued by the post that started this all, so to help me process the emotions described above I made a version of a cover for STEKR and wanted to ask if I could share it with you. It looks like I can’t attach here, but I’d love to post it on my new, very empty page. It truly might not be your style, but I once again found solace in a space you opened the door to and this time I have the opportunity to share it!
Also, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.
You're so very welcome! And I'm really glad the books were there for you when you needed them. (And plainly are there with you still.) 😊
And absolutely, post that cover! I'll be delighted to see it.
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peachesofteal · 2 days
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Simon Riley / female reader Secret baby trope / 18+ Inspo musing
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It’s your eyes.
He notices them first.
They glance over from across the room, incredibly brief. You touch on everyone seated along the worn wood, cataloguing, categorizing, before turning your attention back to your friend, who seems to be in the middle of a story.
Like Johnny is.
“LT, ye even listenin’ to me?” Simon nods, but he’s still watching you. Tracing your spine, staring at the exposed skin on your neck. He imagines you smell like lavender, or citrus. Something spritely and soft. He conjures up the image of his thumb pressing into your bottom lip, and he wonders how plush it is.
You look like a perfect little treat.
And he’s in need of one.
“She’s bonnie.” Johnny sips his beer, eyebrow raised. “Like what ye see?” He shrugs. He hasn’t taken a woman to bed in years. It always ends up feeling wrong somehow, stale. Unease twists in his gut when clothes start to come off, anxiety trembles in the swell of his blood, and his scars begin to feel fresh. Torn open.
Sex makes him feel torn apart. Ripped to shreds.
But he’s not opposed to having another go at it. Not if you're the one taking his cock like a good girl.
There's something about you. You’re bright, like a little jewel, sparkling in the sun. A piece of something precious. Too golden to be tarnished, too sunny to be sullied by darkness.
He nearly swallows his tongue when you appear at the end of the bar, opposite of Johnny. You’re waiting to order another beer, he assumes, but you look over at him for too long, a second or two, and it tells him all he needs to know.
It’s in your eyes.
“Hi.” Your lips curve upwards at each side, a secretive smile, imparted only on him. His heart flutters like a school boy, young and naive all over again. His skin is hot, prickled under his clothes, hair on the back of his neck standing straight up.
Fuck, you're so pretty. You're perfect.
He's staring at your lips, memorizing the pert Cupid's bow, the soft color that shines when your tongue darts out to lick them.
Johnny clears his throat. Simon's brain catches up to his body. "Hey-"
An oversized brute jostles you, his shoulder nearly pushing you into Johnny. You blink, doe eyed, and then step back from the bar, allowing him to take up the space where you just occupied.
Simon grits his teeth, vision tunneling red.
Kitten doesn't have any claws.
That's okay, he thinks. You wouldn't need them, if you had him.
He wonders if violence scares you. If he beats this ogre to a bloody pulp, would you run from him? He takes in the confused crinkle in your brow, wide, shy eyes, and decides on a different tactic.
"C'mere love." He husks, extending his hand, pushing Johnny's stool over with the heel of his foot, carving out a space for you to sidle in between them.
You press against his thigh as you take your spot, leaning forward to talk to the bartender, and when you look over your shoulder at him, small smile tugging at your lips, he presses his palm to the small of your back.
"And... two shots of whiskey, please."
You're... everything.
Naked, laid out on your bed with your legs spread, eyes still wide and sweet, and he can barely get his mouth to work as he looks at you.
"Simon," you whimper in the dark, hands reaching, searching, and he kisses each finger like they're a decadent treat, one he'll never have enough of, "please."
Moonlight illuminates your face, shines across the curves of your body, and he has to blink multiple times to steady himself, to keep himself grounded.
Your fingers don't feel like razors. Your mouth isn't torture. Every soft word you give him is like a balm. You're everything.
And he's going to show you, he's going to make sure you know- you're everything.
He's going to fuck you face to face.
But first, he needs-
Your hand wraps around his wrist. "I'm on the pill." you whisper, desperate. "I want to feel you... I'm clean, if you-" The trust you're implying is a foreign concept, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he worries. You're going to let him fuck you raw? You're going to let him feel the clutch of your pussy, without any protection?
You're out of your mind.
But so is he.
"I haven't been with anyone in years." His accent is a rasp, heavy with desire. "And 've got a clean bill of heath."
It's a mutual agreement. And it doesn't take any convincing.
"You want me to fuck this pretty little pussy raw, sweet girl? Is that it?" His mouth covers yours, and then trails down to your neck, nips across the tops of your breasts. "Want me to fill you up?"
"Yeah," his fingers slide through your folds, teasing from top to bottom, swirling around your clit, "fuck, yeah, I want-"
"I've got a lot of cum for you, honey. You sure you can take it?" You clench around the finger he's slipped inside, and moan.
"Oh my god," Your spine arches, and he holds your hips, aligning himself before pushing into your body, melding the two of together almost perfectly.
Almost, because you're so bloody tight, it's like you're strangling him. He's not going to last.
"Relax," He murmurs, kissing your jaw, rubbing a slow circle around your clit. "There you go, that's my girl." It slips out, but you don't seem to care. Neither does he. Tonight, you're his. You and your body and your heart and your soul, belong to him. He'll mark you like you’re his. A fantasy, a wish, a far cry from reality.
In another life, maybe he'd have you forever. For real.
But in this life, he'll take what he can get, and you let him. You let him take and take and take all night long, on your back, face bared to him like he's the brightest star and not the darkness haunting dreams. You kiss him like it's real, and when he comes inside you once, and then twice, you let him stay there, locked tight, staring down into your eyes. He rubs your cheek with his thumb, and you smile. He presses his forehead against yours, and your cup the back of his head, gingerly kissing him, carefully, like you know. Like you can see him.
You say his name. You moan it. You scream it. It's never sounded so good, and he wonders if this is what it's like- to have and to hold.
In the morning, before the sun rises, he stands at the foot of your bed, watching you sleep. He wishes you'd wake, wants you to open your eyes and ask him to stay, hopes you'll roll over and realize he's not there and call his name-
It's all a fantasy. Something that could never be more than what it was in that moment, in the moonlight, a secret held between two strangers, the first breath in the dawn.
He brushes his lips across your forehead one last time, and then disappears down the hall.
Out the door.
Out of your life.
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pockettwinzz · 3 days
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Ours - L.HS | S.JY
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🝮︎︎︎︎︎︎︎pairings🝮︎︎︎︎︎︎︎ : student!heeseung x student!fem reader x student!jake
🝮︎︎︎︎︎︎︎warnings🝮︎︎︎︎︎︎︎ : NSFW, smut, threesome, (adding more as I write...)
🝮︎︎︎︎︎︎︎A/n🝮︎︎︎︎︎︎︎ : It might take it a lil long to write so I apologise for the wait 😭 and this is actually my first time writing a threesome fic so I'll do my best :D
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It's the first day of the rest of your life. Or, at least that's what they say. But as you lie here on your new twin-sized bed, the room cold and unfamiliar, it's hard not to feel a little uneasy.
Heeseung and Jake, your new roomates, are already unpacking their things, tossing clothes into the dresser and hanging posters on the walls. They're both pretty decent-looking, Heeseung, tall and lean, with bambi eyes that seem to see right through you, and Jake, a bit shorter but broader, with hair the color of rich mahogany and a smile that could charm the pants off anyone.
They've been talking about you, you can tell. You catch snippets of their conversation: "…think she'll fit in?" "…not sure if she's into us…" It's like they're sizing you up, trying to decide whether or not you're worth their time. You try not to let it bother you, but the nervous flutter in your stomach only grows as they begin to pay you more attention.
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༘˚⋆𐙚。Permanent Taglist ༘˚⋆𐙚。@cha-eui @alvojake @heeslut4life @wondipity @dollywons @wonlvkay @hoonieshoney @emi-en @enhabooks
༘˚⋆𐙚Taglist(open) ༘˚⋆𐙚。 @woniefull @tanisha2060 @iheartjayke @brownsugarbaybee @deobitifull @sunghoonsgff @slut4hee @shuawons @naurrjakeu @yohanabanana @heeslvr01 @kirinaa08 @meowmeowjang @butterflywonie @river-demon-slayer @nikiswifiee @sunoo-dior @ja3yun @heesoo11 @shutupsisi @nctislifue
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godslino · 1 day
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HARD LAUNCH | minho drabble. established relationship.
“Do you guys have french fries?”
“Minho.” you hiss, nudging his shin beneath the table.
He cocks an eyebrow before turning back to the waitress. She smiles softly, laughing at the two of you. 
“We do, yes.” 
“Wonderful,” Minho grins, “We’ll have a side order of those too.”
“Perfect. I’ll put that in for you guys and check back soon.” The waitress says happily, collecting the menus and scurrying off to tend to another table.
As soon as she’s out of earshot, you groan, covering your face with your hands. 
“Why would you do that?” 
Minho chuckles, shakes his head probably. You wouldn’t know since you can’t see him.
“Do what?”
Still using one hand to cover your eyes, you pull the other away, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction. “I told you I’d be fine. Why’d you have to ask for french fries? That’s so embarrassing.”
Minho hums. Unbothered. “You know what’s worse?”
“Literally nothing.” you mumble, returning your other hand to your face. It only serves to muffle your voice more. “This is humiliating. We’re in a nice restaurant and you ordered french fries because of me. Oh God. I’m going to hide in the bathroom.”
A good choice, you think. Minho’s in god damn slacks for crying out loud. Every second that passes is another second that your pity order of french fries is probably spending in the deep fryer, right next to the lobster tail and shrimp tartar that everyone else has a mature enough palate to eat. 
Before you can move to get up and make a beeline for the toilet, you feel Minho’s fingers wrap around your wrists, pulling until your hands give way to your face. You crack one eye open and then the other, his amused expression coming into view.
“What’s worse than ordering french fries is me knowing you’ll be hungry if there isn’t something familiar for you on the table.” he says pointedly, like your reason for feeling embarrassed is unnecessary. “Besides, who said I didn’t want any?”
“Min, look around,” you say, turning your head to glance at the room, “The napkins are cloth. Cloth! Nicer than my bed sheets. We can’t be seen eating french fries in a place like this. I told you I’d be—”
“—fine. Because as long as you’re here I can do anything.” Minho recites, word for word, cutting you off. 
Heat rushes to your cheeks immediately, spreads like wildfire when Minho smiles and leans on to his forearms. His button up tightens over his shoulders, hugs his arms, sleeves rolled up to the elbow.
“Just like how you’re doing this for me, let me do something for you.” 
You and Minho have been seeing each other for four months now, but even at that, you’re still not used to his straightforwardness. 
Seeing Minho has been nothing short of a dream. What started as just interacting at parties because of mutual friends eventually gave way to him asking for your number, and then hanging out separate from your friend group, until one day he plucked up the courage to ask you out. Since then, the two of you have been inseparable, always spending every free moment together. Laughing, talking, even sometimes just existing in the same space. It’s nice. So, so nice.
“Shouldn’t I be the one blushing right now?” Minho teases.
“Shut up.” you say, tearing your gaze away from him.
He laughs again before reaching out and placing a hand on top of yours. Soft. Minho is unbelievably soft.
It’s the thing you love the most about him. But more than that, more than the delicate skin of his fingers or the brush of his lips against yours, you love the softness of his eyes.
Minho is hard to crack, his emotions shrouded most of the time. Not that he wants to be, but because that’s just how he operates, or so you’ve learned. 
But despite all of that, his eyes are a dead giveaway. When he’s looking at pictures of his cats, or staring at you from across the room, or right now as steaming plates of some of the finest cuisine Seoul has to offer are being placed in front of him.
“Holy shit.” he whispers, staring in awe as the waitress walks away from the table.
“Is it rude for me to take a picture? Like, would anyone get offended?” 
Minho scoffs. “Babe, I would be offended if you didn’t document this right now.”
“Okay, okay,” you laugh, pulling out your phone.
“Do I get to be in it this time?”
You look up to find Minho pouting across the table. Another thing about your relationship— nobody knows yet. 
You’ve been teasing about the possibility of a boyfriend for two months now, you and Minho only having made it official about a few weeks ago. The most anyone has been able to see are carefully positioned photos where only his hand or other inconspicuous parts of him are visible.
It’s not that you don’t want people to know. It’s just hard with his job and all. Privacy reasons.
"For someone who likes to claim that people won't give me a hard time because of your fame you sure do seem eager to test that theory."
Minho smiles mischievously. “Well, yes. But I’m also waiting because I want to show you off.”
You busy yourself with opening your camera app to stop the heat creeping up your neck. “Yeah, yeah. You big flirt.”
Minho laughs but obliges, scoots back to let you get a good few pictures of the food. 
Photos aren’t enough to do it justice, though. So you opt for a video, scanning the table with your camera, only the bottom half of his torso visible across the table. A silk white button up only three-fourths of the way buttoned, sleeves rolled to his elbows.
Minho watches silently, his face unreadable. And then, at the last second, he dips his head down so fast you don’t even realize what’s happening until his face is fully in the shot, a shit-eating grin pushing his eyes into crescent moons.
“Min!” you laugh, ending the recording. 
He chuckles, straightening back out. “Post it.”
“Are you insane?”
“No, but I’m going to be if you don’t post it and then eat with me.” He nudges the plate of french fries towards you. “Come on.”
“You really want me to post it? You’re sure?”
Minho smiles. Soft. “Never been more sure about anything in my life.” he says, neither of you willing to address the weight of his words.
He grabs your hand, plants a kiss on the back of your knuckles. The resulting flip of your stomach is enough to give you the courage to hit post and tuck your phone away.
Whatever happens, you’ll deal with it later. Together.
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