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#if i do not get it soon i fear i will resort to just writing out headcanons for what ranboo has been doing offscreen in the enderwalk state
heartsforhavik · 3 months
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clean (sub zero, scorpion x reader)
warnings: self harm, slight angst to comfort
pairings: bi-han and kuai liang x gn reader (separate)
a/n: this is a bit self indulgent, i am now 10 months clean as of today. i usually don’t write kuai liang, but i thought he’d be one of the most comforting characters to have by your side. i hope this can provide some comfort to those struggling.
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(please read the warning before you continue.)
bi-han walked into your bedroom and saw you looking down at your old wounds. they looked to be self-inflicted, as they were all faded straight lines covering your arms.
bi-han is no stranger to scars. as the grandmaster of the lin kuei, he has grown used to the injuries he gains in kombat.
but he was not aware you had scars of your own. especially self-inflicted ones.
“beloved?”
you quickly hid your arms as soon as you heard your boyfriend’s voice.
“good evening, bi-han. how are you?” you asked, pretending he saw nothing.
he went up to you and gently grabbed your arm, taking a closer look at your scars.
“what is this…?” he asked. he already knew the answer, but he hoped he was wrong.
you went quiet. there was an uncomfortable silence between you two, as the only sounds you could hear were his deep breaths and the wind blowing outside.
“a few months ago…” you took a deep breath, preparing for the worst. “i… wasn’t doing very well. so i resorted to the only thing i thought i deserved. i felt like such an idiot at the time. i was making so many mistakes, so i just decided to give myself a… punishment. i haven’t done it since, i swear-”
your boyfriend interrupted you by pulling you in for a hug. he knew you were most likely better now. but would hate for you to think he doesn’t care about your feelings.
“if you ever feel that way again, please let me know.” bi-han whispered, holding you tight. he never cared about someone like this before. and now that he’s had a taste of what it’s like to love, he doesn’t wish to part from it.
he has also never been in your shoes, so he wants to comfort you as best as he can. but he doesn’t exactly know how to comfort someone, so he hopes he can hold you in his arms and it’ll be enough.
you are enough. he just wants you to know that. even if he has to remind you over and over. even if he ever loses his temper and you get into a fight. he would still love you. he always will. bi-han cherishes you as one of the only people that truly make him happy, so he hopes what happened to you in the past won’t have to happen again.
-
kuai liang felt sick when he saw your scars. he hoped they were old. but whether they were old or new, he should let you know that if something was going on, he would be there for you.
he wanted to tell you that immediately.
“my love..?” kuai liang called out, trying to hold back tears. he tried not to cry, knowing this was about you, not him. but he couldn’t help but feel a wave of sadness wash over him at the thought of you hurting yourself. he cared about you so much, his biggest fear was losing you.
“yes? is there something wrong?” you asked.
upon seeing you, kuai liang immediately embraced you as if he hadn’t seen you in years.
“do you understand how much i love you? i will always be here for you. at your happiest and lowest. no matter what, i will always help you when there is something wrong. even if i cannot solve the problem, you know i will do whatever i can.” he whispered, as he looked you in your eyes, the ones that he loved very dearly.
“what is this about?” you asked nervously.
“i saw your injuries…” kuai liang mumbled.
his gaze fell down to your arms. there were so many scars littered across your skin. they were faded, but that doesn’t mean they were never there.
“i just…” kuai liang sighed. “…wanted to let you know that i am always here for you, if you ever feel that way again. i am so sorry that your emotions drove you to the point of self-harm. i am not judging, but i do not it to happen again. i’ll do everything i can to prevent it.”
you were better. you had no desire to harm yourself again. sometimes the thought pops into your head every now and then, but you refuse. even though you were better, you still appreciated kuai liang’s support and determination to prevent it from ever happening again.
“it’s been 10 months.” you mumbled, sitting down against the wall.
kuai liang gave you a ‘hm?’ sound, as he sat down next to you.
“today marks 10 months since i last did it. i’m 10 months clean, kuai liang.” you explained.
“i’m proud of you. let’s make sure that number doesn’t go down, okay?” he encouraged, patting your back as a sign of support.
“yeah.. i try. i always try.” you admitted, leaning your head on his shoulder.
“i know, my love. i know.” kuai liang smiled, giving you a kiss on the forehead. he truly was proud of you. you were so strong, and he admired your honesty throughout the conversation. he understood that your past was difficult, but he believed that someone’s past does not define who they are.
even though you have been through tragedy, your existence is not a tragedy.
kuai liang accepts you wholeheartedly, and he’ll always be there to support you.
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wintersoldiersoul · 6 months
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Not Alone
Summary: Bucky discovers a secret you've been hiding and is determined to help.
A/N: I kind of rushed writing this because I was feeling shitty and just needed to get my thoughts out. I definitely wanna explore this topic in a deeper way in a different story. If you are struggling, please reach out to someone.
TW: Self-harm, depression, blood, suicidal thoughts. Please do not read if this will trigger you in any way.
Avenger’s team dinner was always fun. Most nights, everyone was so busy that the meal was eaten scattered by everyone throughout the night but you all made it or injured, of course. Your deep desire to never leave your bed again? Not a good excuse. You splashed some cold water on your face and put your glasses on, hoping they would mask your red puffy eyes.
You faked your way through as well as you could. Laughing at the right moments, adding a few sentences here and there. Whatever you had to do to convince them that you were fine. 
The truth was, you weren’t fine and you hadn’t been for a while. Every day, you faced the dark thoughts in your head and you could usually keep them at bay enough to function. But something had switched within the last few months and you couldn’t fight them anymore.
As soon as you could, you excused yourself, desiring the sweet solitude of your bedroom. It was happening again. The emotional pain was becoming too overwhelming to exist as just that.
The first time you self-harmed, you were scared, tentatively holding the blade to your skin and making just a small cut at first. But now, after years of doing it off and on, you were somewhat of an expert. You felt the panic hit you on your way back to your bedroom, signaling that you needed to cut and you needed to do it now. You were usually methodical. Locking the bedroom door, preparing with neosporin and band aids for after so you wouldn’t get blood on the white carpet. But right now, you couldn’t even think of any of that.
You used the blade to make gashes in your skin, throwing your head back in relief as you felt the mental pain in your mind transform into something physical. Your head was so dark. Too dark to keep it all inside. All you had thought about while alone in bed the past few days was how badly you wished you could just end it. You were so tired of waking up every morning and being in so much pain. You were in a trance as you cut, watching the blood pool out of your skin. You were so in your own head that you didn’t hear the knock on the door. You didn’t cry when you did it. Not anymore. For you, self-harm wasn’t some tragic, emotional thing like it’s portrayed in movies. It was just a part of your daily routine, as much as brushing your teeth was.
“Hey Y/N I wanted to ask you-” Bucky stopped abruptly when he saw you. “Y/N what are you doing?” He rushed over to you, extreme fear and concern in his eyes.
You looked up at him, realization crossing your face that he had just discovered your deepest darkest secret. “Bucky, get out!” You yelled.
He looked at the blood dripping from your wrists. He was shocked. And hurt. He hated that you had so much pain inside of yourself that you had to resort to this. The scariest part though, was the true lack of emotion in your eyes. “Y/N, what the hell? What are you doing?” He knelt down on the floor beside you. “Hey, look at me,” he said, his voice growing softer.
Reluctantly, you lifted your head, looking into his blue eyes. And that’s when it really hit you. That Bucky was in your room, watching you hurt and destroy yourself. There was no getting out of this. No way to lie and cover up all of the pain you were in. You couldn’t hold in the sob that was brewing in your throat anymore. At your cry, Bucky wrapped his arms around you, holding you as close as possible to him. “Oh, Y/N…” he whispered as he held you, his own eyes filling with tears. “Talk to me, please. I’m never gonna judge or be angry, okay? Just talk to me.”
You took a few deep breaths to calm yourself before speaking. “It’s just… it’s so dark in here, Bucky.” 
“In where, sweetheart?” He looked at you with concern.
You brought your hands to the sides of your head, tapping repeatedly. “In my head. The first thing I think about every day when I open my eyes is how much I want to be dead. I spiral about how life is just the same thing day after day after day and how I’m just trapped in this cycle of pain and I-” you pause as your voice breaks.
Bucky’s heart is beating fast at the admission that you wish you were dead. “Y/N, I need you to be honest with me, okay? Do you think about suicide? Like do you consider it as a real option for you?” 
You nod. “I have a whole plan. I know exactly how I would do it. I just need to find the courage-”
“Stop,” he interrupts. “Killing yourself isn’t brave. You know what is? Having the strength to fight every single day. You may not want to wake up and live but you do. That is what takes courage.”
You squeeze your eyes shut as you listen to his words. You know what he’s saying is exactly what you would say, and believe, to anyone else if they were in your situation. But you just couldn’t apply that logic to your own life. 
“Why don’t I help you get cleaned up and we can talk some more, okay?” He took your hand as you slowly stood up and led you to the bathroom. He sat you down on the sink as he rummaged through the cabinets for everything he needed. You winced as he began to clean the cuts, a fresh sting shooting through your arm. “I’m sorry, I know it hurts,” he said, trying to be as gentle as possible. “Y/N, how long have you been doing this to yourself?”
“I used to do it when I was a teenager. I stopped for a long time. I thought I had it under control, I really did. But then a few months ago it started to get bad again. I just-I couldn’t control it anymore. I needed to feel the pain physically, too.”
Bucky sighed. “You know, that actually makes a lot of sense. I’ve never…cut myself or anything but I scratch at my shoulder a lot. Where my metal arm is connected. Now I do it more out of habit but I think I used to do it for that same feeling of something physical. Everything HYDRA did to me was so awful and I just needed an outlet for that pain.”
You looked up at him. “You don’t think I’m crazy?”
He smiled softly as he began to apply band aids on your arms. “Of course not. I think you’re really struggling right now. And I’m not gonna lie, I’m scared as hell for you. I know there’s probably a lot more going on in your head than the little bit that you shared with me and I’m not gonna force you to open up if you don’t want to. But Y/N… I care about you so much. More than you even know.” This admission made your heart flutter. You and Bucky were friends, but you had never been particularly close. Still, it was hard to stop yourself from developing a crush on the guy. “I can’t even imagine what I would do if you ever-” his own voice broke now, thinking about the worst possible scenario. He took a deep breath before continuing. “Please, Y/N. Please get help. I’ll sit with you and look into therapists for hours if you need. But I’m not letting you live in this much pain anymore. You deserve to be happy.”
Those last few words hit you like a punch to the gut. You had lived in a state of pain and self loathing for so long that you didn’t believe that happiness was even in the cards for you anymore.
“Bucky,” you began to protest. You didn’t wanna get help because you genuinely didn’t think you deserved it. 
“Y/N, please. Let me help you. You’re not alone anymore, okay? You don’t have to fight this alone. Just let me in. Please.” He was practically begging you. His eyes were full of so much emotion and you could see how much your pain was affecting him.
You took a deep breath. “Okay,” you whispered, reluctantly agreeing.
He breathed out a sigh of relief. “Good, that's really good. That was the first step, okay? I’m really proud of you.”
The call of sleep weighed down your eyelids as he finished bandaging the cuts. “Why don’t we get you into bed, sweetheart?” He carefully picked you up and carried you to bed. You expected him to say goodnight and leave, but instead he tore back the covers from the other side.
“What are you doing?” You asked. You weren’t bothered by his presence, but you just didn’t understand it. Why would he still wanna be around you?
“I’m not leaving you alone tonight. I’ll sleep on the floor if it would make you more comfortable but there is no chance in hell I’m leaving you by yourself.”
You looked at him in shock. Sure, he had said he cared about you but you didn’t believe he cared enough to stay the whole night. You knew how much Bucky valued his alone time and often the night was the only chance he got to be alone, due to the busy schedule of being an Avenger.
“Bucky, you really don’t have-” 
“Shh, I’m staying, okay? I’ll sleep on the floor, I don’t wanna invade.”
You watched him as he pulled a blanket off the bed to take with him onto the floor. “No, you can sleep in my bed. I don’t mind.” 
He nodded and got in beside you, keeping a respectable distance between your two bodies. You both lay in silence for a couple of minutes, separately thinking about the events of the night. 
“Hey, Buck?” You said eventually. “You can say no if you don’t want to but… would you hold me?”
You felt his body shift closer to yours. “Of course I will.” He wrapped his strong arms around you, tucking your head onto his chest. “I told you, you’re not alone anymore. I’m never gonna let you be alone in this.”
You knew that this was only the beginning. That tomorrow Bucky would force you to look into getting professional help. You knew there would be ups and downs and you were terrified. But at least for tonight, for the first time in so long, you weren’t alone.
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fishermanshook · 2 months
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ASK: Please do yan!joseph x reader smut .. and itd be good if he likes to degrade u as well because hes an aristocrat and his ego is too high lol and his pride can't accept the fact he's in love with a normal person so he tries not to show his love.. feel free to decline this req btw love u take care
LOVE TASTE! (yan!photographer x gn!reader)
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# MINOR WRITING SMUT ⚠️ , reader is a consenting individual , I do NOT do this man justice sorry annon , grammar and spelling warning
INTRO
Joseph Desaulniers is an aristocratic man who believes he only deserves the best of the best. An arrogant fool who takes pity on lower-class civilians. But you only find hypocrisy laced in his voice, as he finds himself falling for you out of all people.
Maybe “falling” isn’t the right word here. No, he is drowning in your being completely. You don’t understand the lengths he’s taken (and will take) to ensure you stay by him.
You shouldn’t have gotten close to the man, shouldn’t have let your heart get tangled in his web of lies. Now, he won’t let you go. Not when he’s fucking you in his lap, whispering degrading words as he slams your hips down on his cock. Let’s recap, shall we?
꒰wc ꒱ 783
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You're not sure where this "crush" came from, just that it was the undeniable cause of your flustered state when you met him eye to eye. Whether it be in an intense race to the dungeon or the manor's very own Greenhouse, you've found yourself in the Photographer ever elusive presence. 
He's so kind to you, so gentle that you can forget he's a Hunter altogether. Although, Joseph is starting to become a popular topic for conversation, and not for good reasons. Survivors always knew he was a skilled fencer, but his blade has become sharper. He's harsher with his strokes than before. There is no pity left in his cruel jabs as all sympathy has been ringed out. It seems that you're the only one sparred from this issue. To you though, his blade misses more often than not and seems duller around the edges.
It seems that this was only the start of the Survivor's problems, as more started presenting themselves during matches. Win streaks are broken and more losses take their place in exchange. The Hunters on the other hand rejoice in the continuous win the Photographer brings to the table. Not that he cares though, as all of these were for you. 
The Photographer's reasoning for his newfound win steak has been because of you. Joseph doesn't deem any of those peasants competition as he knows he's better than them. Still, his blood boils with jealousy whenever he notices you chatting with one of them. He hopes that by losing any compassion for the Survivors (and their dreadful situation), he can isolate you from anyone he deems as "unfit" for your attention.
This man will do a lot of things to keep his darling away from the others. Resorting to threats passed underneath the dinner table. The sick little bastard gets off on how their eyes widen with surprise and fear. Some try to fight back, but Joseph is smarter than that. 
LOVEBOMBS YOU. (I can see him doing this sorry ya'll)
Threats and violence in the manor only get him so far, and the Photographer starts telling you sick and twisted lies in hopes of isolating you from your peers. They're all so mean to you, he hears them snicker behind the curtains and poke at your name and title. He makes sure to show them a lesson by bleeding them out during the match, which isn't a lie. In turn, his lies become your truth. If the other Survivors weren't distancing themselves from you before, you made sure of it now. 
Joseph confesses to you soon enough, now that you solely rely on him. Why not just become a Hunter at this point? He'd think you'd look lovely with a sword in your hands, you being dead or alive isn't the point. Finally, you're his and his alone. He won't let anyone take or hurt you ever again. 
Which brings you to where you are now. It started innocent, really, but now is not the time for that. These walls can only hold so much noise. Joseph’s hand helps a bit, but the way he meets your hips with his thrusts sends shocks throughout your body. 
“Stay quiet brat, your melodies are for my ears and my ears only,” Joseph whispers in your ear, he’s come so far to have you. No one else should be allowed to hear your beautiful moans. (Or how his name falls from your mouth so perfectly.) 
You're so tight around him that Joseph doesn’t know how much longer Joseph will last. You end up coming before him, coating his dick in your essence as he continues to slam into you. The Photographer soon follows suit, letting his cum fill you to the brim. 
“Such a slut for my cock, so don’t think I’ll be letting you leave this room until I’m finished." He says with a quick kiss on your cheeks before sliding back in. 
note: hi so I can’t write degrading shit to save my life so I’m sorry 😭 also this was my first Hunter fic along side with my first smut fic in a while so please bare with me…
also annon I saw your other ask and honestly don’t worry about it, if you’d never sent in that ask I don’t know if I would ever end writing for Hunters so thank you for your contribution 😊
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(2024)©️fishermanshook — do not steal, translate, plagiarize, or repost my work on any other platform
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bloatedandalone04 · 7 months
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Greatest Fan of your Life
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➪the one where you get your wisdom teeth removed and bradley takes care of you.
Warnings: fluff, mentions of a bad past dental experience, mentions of teeth being removed...because, you know, mentions of blood, anesthesia, use of an iv, mentions of not eating properly, reader is going through it, bradley being the best boyfriend ever, literally wrote this because i just had three of my wisdom teeth removed and needed some comfort
Word Count: 5.3k
Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡
You were nervously chewing on your bottom lip as you glanced up at the sign of the best dental office in San Diego. As you read over the sign a couple of times, Bradley reached over from his place behind the wheel and grabbed your hand. “How are you feeling?” 
Tearing your eyes off the logo that resembled a tooth, you give him a weary smile. “I’m nervous,” you state the obvious in a quiet voice.
Bradley raised your hand and pressed a soft kiss to the back of it before rubbing soothing circles on your knuckles with his thumb. “You’re going to be fine, pretty girl,” he said in hopes to provide you with some much needed comfort. “I’m going to be waiting right here when it’s over, and then we’ll go home and I’ll cater to your every need.”
You give him another smile and lean over to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “I like the sound of that,” you murmur and he smiles back before placing another quick kiss to your mouth.
“Do you want me to go in with you?” He asks when he saw you reach for the handle.
“Please,”
And with that one word Bradley was hopping out of the Bronco and grabbing your hand as you both walked up to the door. He could feel just how tense you were and he wished there was something he could do to ease your nerves, even a little bit. He knew there was nothing he could say or do to help you, as having anything done to your mouth, from a filling to a simple clean, made you beyond nervous.
You had never liked the dentist, ever since you were a kid and they had to hold you down while extracting a tooth that was no good. They hadn’t given you enough freezing for it to numb properly, so you felt pretty much everything. Safe to say you never went back to that dentist office.
Maybe that was why you had waited so long to make an appointment to have your wisdom teeth removed. You were told back when you were twenty one that you should get them extracted as soon as possible, but that was ten years ago, and you still hadn’t booked the appointment. 
You were fine, for the most part, up until a few weeks ago. You were barely able to chew tough foods because your gums ached beyond words, and you had resorted to drinking shakes to get you through the day. That was fine, until Bradley noticed you had lost a concerning amount of weight due to the lack of actual food you were getting into your body. 
He went ahead and booked the appointment for you pretty much instantly after that. He had to sweet talk the lady on the other line, who was insisting that it should be you who was making the appointment, but she eventually gave in when he told her about your fear of the dentist. 
Bradley still wasn’t sure how he had gotten away with that, but he was grateful nonetheless, even if you didn’t talk to him for the rest of the day after he informed you of your upcoming extractions.
While you were upset and scared, you were also glad you would be able to go back to eating solid foods in about a week after today. 
That positive still didn’t help tune out all the negatives you were feeling. 
As you walked up to the front desk of the office, you didn’t loosen your hold on Bradley’s hand once, not even when the lady behind the desk handed you a clipboard with papers you needed to sign since this was your first time in this office. 
You both sat in the waiting room, and you were shaking so badly you were afraid your writing was so messy that you’d have to ask for a new page. With a nervous glance up at your boyfriend, he just pressed a kiss to the side of your head and took the clipboard from you, filling out your information for you. Most he knew off by heart, thankfully, and he handed it back to you so you could scribble down your signature at the bottom of the page. 
It was only a few minutes after he handed the board back to the lady when your name was called. Bradley could tell that you were beginning to freak out once again, so he took your hand and walked with you over to where the procedure will be done. 
“You’re going to be fine,” he assured you, his hands tilting your head up so he could press a soft kiss to your lips. “It’ll take an hour at the most, and then we’ll be back home.”
You just nodded and allowed him to kiss your forehead. “I love you,”
“I love you, too,” and he watched as you were guided into the room by the assistant. 
You hesitantly sat down on the chair and kept your eyes on the blank wall in front of you. Off to your left were various paintings, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look over at them, despite them probably being there to calm down the patients. You were so nervous, you couldn’t even voice your opinions on the decor of the waiting room. This was by far the most elegant dentist office you had ever seen in your life. 
The assistant took a seat next to you and began wiping down your forearm, and you began mentally preparing yourself for the eventual puncture of the IV. “How are we doing?” She asked softly. “Are you nervous?”
You give her a tight smile as she tosses the wipe into the trash can. “Is it that obvious?” 
“Only a little bit,” she teased as the Doctor came in. “Your boyfriend mentioned that you have had some pretty tough times in the past regarding previous procedures. I want you to know that you have nothing to be afraid of. It’ll be over before you know it.”
You nod at her as the Doctor gently picked up the IV. “Hi, Y/n,” he smiled at you. “I’m Doctor Brown.”
“Hi,” you nearly whisper back.
He asked you the standard questions, like; are you taking any medication currently, are you a smoker, is there a chance you’re pregnant, when was the last time you had something to eat or drink. All that fun stuff you were barely able to answer.
“I’m going to insert the IV now, okay?” He asked and waited until you gave him verbal consent before gently piercing your skin with the needle. He looked at the fluid bag before sitting down on the other side of you and grabbing gloves. “I hear this is your first time with us, is that correct?”
You nod as he adjusts the chair so you are laying back. “It is,”
 “And you have a reliable ride home?”
You nod again. “Yeah, my boyfriend,” you answer, wondering when exactly you were supposed to start feeling sleepy. 
The assistant, whose name tag read Alia Clark, grabbed her own gloves as she asked, “What does your boyfriend do?” 
“He’s in the navy,” you mumble with a small smile. “He’s an aviator.”
“Oh, wow,” she replied and smiled down at you before checking over your chart. “And what is his name?”
For some reason, that took you a bit longer to answer as you felt your eyes begin to feel heavy. “Bradley,” you were finally able to say. “His name is Bradley, but he also goes by his call sign, Rooster.”
“Rooster, huh?” Doctor Brown hums and you were only able to nod as you felt your eyes close.
“Don’t worry, Y/n,” you hear Alia say. “You will be back with Bradley, or Rooster, in no time.”
And that was all the assurance you needed before you let yourself fall asleep.
-
Bradley wishes he was able to stay in the room with you, but he knew he couldn’t, so he finally made his way back out to the Bronco once he saw the Doctor enter your room. 
Once he was back behind the wheel, he sighed as he had an hour of time to kill. 
He had taken the week off work, after informing Mav of your fear of the dentist. The older man seemed to have taken pity on you as he had no problem letting Bradley skip this week to look after you. 
As he began to wait, he pulled out his phone and typed a quick message to you, knowing you wouldn’t see it or read it until you were back home. You told him beforehand to take your phone away from you until the effects of the IV wore off completely, nervous that you would embarrass yourself if you were to go on it in your drug induced haze.
After typing out a sappy little message, Bradley ended it with a simple red heart before sending it, hearing the buzz of your phone from where it was on the center console.
He debated on whether or not he wanted to stay in the parking lot the whole time, or run out to the store to get some things that would help make the next few days easier for you. 
He reluctantly chose the second option, as he knew you wouldn’t want him to leave your side once you were back home. 
Bradley drove to the nearest store and bought a few packs of pudding, apple sauce, ginger ale, yogurt and even some more of those shakes you had been living off of, something he was still mad about as he hated the way you turned to practically starving yourself to avoid this appointment, before stopping by the pharmacy to pick up more painkillers. 
He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t the smallest bit excited to be the one taking care of you. Usually it was the other way around, with you being the one to look after him every time he returned home from his deployments. Whether that be with making him his favorite foods, giving him some much needed massages or simply just laying with him in bed for a few hours, it all made the welcome home much nicer than it would have been if he was still living alone and single. 
This time he got to be the one to look after you, and he couldn’t wait to cater to your every need. He couldn’t wait to spend the whole week with you, even though you would most likely be miserable and uncomfortable due to the pain in your mouth. Still, he would do his best to make things better for you. 
Your surgery should be over soon, so with twenty minutes left on the timer he set for himself on his phone, he drove back to the dental office and was back to waiting for you. 
He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to go in and wait for you inside, or if they’ll call him to come walk you out, but he decided to go in a bit early, anyway, and wait for you in the waiting room. 
Bradley remembered when he got his wisdom teeth removed, back when he was still a teen. He remembered just how uncomfortable he was during the recovery days, and how he didn’t really have anyone to look after him. He got his aunt to drive him there and home, and she stayed with him for a few hours after the surgery, but eventually had to return to her own home. 
He had to stick to sucking on popsicles and protein shakes until he was feeling well enough to go back to eating normal food. 
He was completely on his own back then, and he’d make sure that wasn’t the case with you. 
A few minutes go by, and when he heard the assistant call his name, he paused the latest newscast that he was watching on his phone and pocketed it before standing up. “How is she?” He asked as Alia getsured for the lady behind the desk to ring up the receipt. “How’d it go?”
Alia smiled at his multiple questions as she watched him insert his credit card into the machine. “It went well,” she answered and gave him another smile when he slipped the card back into his wallet and took the receipt from the receptionist. “She’s just resting now, but is able to go home since most of the anesthesia has worn off.”
He nodded and followed her back to where you were. She stepped aside as he entered the room and found you still laying on the chair, your eyes barely open as you stared blankly at the TV that was hung from the ceiling. “Hi, pretty girl,” 
At the sound of your boyfriend’s voice, you look over and tear up. “I don’t look pretty right now,” you mumble and try to avoid moving the cotton pads that were stuck to either side of your mouth.
Bradley hushed you and quickly walked around the chair so he could press his lips to your forehead. Your mouth and cheeks were swollen, and he could see a bit of blood on your bottom lip, but other than that, he still thought you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen. “You do,” he said and grabbed your hand when you reached it out to him, careful to not touch the bandage from where the IV was inserted. “Mouth full of gauze and all.”
“You’re Rooster, I’m assuming?” Doctor Brown asked as he held a few pages of paper in his hand.
“She told you my call sign, huh?” Bradley shook his head while you avoided eye contact with him and instead decided to stare at the wall.
“She was the perfect patient,” 
Bradley looked over at you and gently rubbed circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. “I believe it,”
Doctor Brown went over what exactly he and Alia did to you, before handing him a small bag that held antibiotics inside. The whole time you remained silent as you tried not to cry in front of the Doctor and assistant, squeezing Bradley’s hand whenever you felt the pain beginning to form. 
“She should be okay now,” the Doctor finished with a smile at the two of you. “There should be no more pain from having them in. If there is still a bit of discomfort after about two weeks, come back in and we’ll check up on the healing process.”
“Sounds good,” Bradley answered and gently pulled you up from the chair. “Thank you.”
“Thank you,” you mutter as he guides you back towards the exit, with him carrying most of your body weight. He led you back out to the Bronco and helped put your seatbelt on before he was getting in on the drivers side. 
“I know this will be hard for you to do,” he began, checking you over once more before putting the car in reverse and beginning to back out of the parking space. He puts his right hand on the back of your headrest and gives you a teasing smile before continuing, “But I looked it up and Google says you shouldn’t talk too much. It might interrupt the healing process.”
Despite him really wanting to hear all the odd things you’d say in your daze, he didn’t want you paying the price later by having a sore throat.
You send him a dirty look and raise your brow, as if to say, really?
He just winks at you after taking off his aviators and reaching over to gently place them over your eyes, sacrificing his own in hopes you would appreciate the gesture since you had forgotten your own during your rush to leave this morning. It was nearing the afternoon, so the sun was shining down on the both of you, but he would deal with it to make you more comfortable. 
He was right about you appreciating it, as you give him a closed mouth smile, your cheeks puffed out due to the gauze. “Tell you what,” he says as he pulls out onto the main road, his right hand instinctively reaching over to trace random shapes onto the skin of your thigh. He keeps his left one on the wheel as he glances over at you, seeing your eyes already on him from behind the glasses. “Once we get home and you rest for a few hours, maybe we can go out and get milkshakes if you’re feeling up to it. Might help with the soreness.”
You instantly perk up at that and nod, grabbing his hand and bringing it up to your mouth. Bradley held back a laugh at your attempt to kiss the back of his hand, your lips clearly still numb as you couldn’t seem to get them to move properly. 
He just gave you a grin when you looked over at him in defeat. 
-
The swelling had gotten worse as the time went on, and your throat was dry beyond words. Bradley had guided you towards the couch as soon as you got home, flipping the TV onto one of your favorite shows and making sure you were comfortable before he was leaving to tidy up the small mess you had made in the bedroom a few hours earlier, when you couldn’t decide what to wear and had thrown multiple articles of clothing onto the floor. 
Within minutes he was back at your side, your head resting on his lap as you stared at the screen of the TV. Bradley ran his fingers through your hair as you both watched the show, listening to your uneven breaths as you fought back grunts of pain. 
He looked down and gently held your chin in between his fingers, squinting down at you as you opened your mouth. “I think it might be time to change the gauze, baby,” he murmurs and you wince in at the thought of seeing the bloody cotton leave your mouth. 
Bradley gently sits you up before reaching over and grabbing the bag from the dentist and pulling out a fresh set of gauze. 
After damping them with water, he sets them aside before mumbling a quiet, “Come here,” and he watches as you lean towards him and slowly open your mouth. Bradley caresses your jaw with one hand and uses the other to slowly pull out the bloodied gauze. He does it one by one, murmuring a soft, “I’m sorry,” when he sees the tears form in your eyes. He places both pieces of gauze on the palm of his hand before handing you the clean ones. 
He sits with you until you’ve successfully placed the new cotton into your mouth, and then stands up to throw away the blood filled ones. 
Once Bradley returns back to the living room, you move over and give him space to sit down before laying your head in his lap again and trying to focus on the show instead of the throbbing in your mouth. 
With your head still feeling fuzzy and the feeling of your boyfriend’s fingers running through your hair again, you give yourself a bit of relief and fall asleep. 
When you woke up alone a few hours later, you noticed that Bradley had left the TV on and had also put your phone on the coffee table beside you. You could hear him doing something in the kitchen as you reached for it, and knowing him, he was probably making something to eat as his stomach was like a bottomless pit. 
You sat up with a groan, still a bit groggy from the anesthesia, and unlocked your phone. Instantly, you were met with a couple of texts from your friends and family, and you smiled as you read them. 
Mom: I heard from Bradley that it went well and you’re resting now. Call me when you’re feeling up to it. Love you x
Nat: I told you that there was nothing to be scared of. Have fun being stuck with Rooster for a week ;) Text me when you can!
But the one that had you smiling a little bit more was the one from Bradley.
Bradley ♡: I love you, pretty girl. I promise I will be there with you as soon as it’s done. I’m all yours for the next week, and after that. 
You send him a heart emoji back, then realize that the gauzes are all soggy in your mouth, and you once again had to hold back a gag as you leaned over to put your phone back down.
When you bite too hard down on your cheek through the cotton, you wince and accidentally drop your phone onto the floor. It landed on the rug with a thud, and you heard the sounds coming from the kitchen stop. 
Seconds later Bradley was standing in the doorway to the living room, a cloth in his hands and he was still chewing something as he asked, “Are you okay?”
You give him a thumbs up before pointing down at your phone. 
He looks at it and shakes his head as he tosses the cloth back into the kitchen to find later, before crossing the room and picking up the device. “I knew giving you back your phone would be a bad idea,” he teased as he sat down next to you and gently ran his fingers along your still swollen jaw. “How are you feeling?” 
You shrugged and blinked away the remaining sleep from your eyes. “Dry,” you said and wince at how raspy your voice sounded. 
Bradley nodded, murmuring a quiet, “Okay,” as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “Do you feel like trying to drink something?”
You look up at him with a small smile. “Milkshake?” 
He laughs and kisses your forehead. “We can go get milkshakes,” he says as he gently tugs on your lower lip with his thumb. “But first we need to change those again.”
You groan as he helps remove the stained gauze from your mouth again and wonder how he wasn’t grossed out by holding them in his hand. You supposed he’s seen and done worse, and he’s not exactly new to having your saliva on him.
He uses his free hand to grasp your chin between his fingers and tilts your head so the lamp next to the couch was able to shine somewhat into your mouth. “It doesn’t seem to be bleeding much right now,” he hums and stands up to toss the gauze away. “Do you want to see how it goes without them for a bit? Just until you get something into you. If it starts to bleed again after the shakes, I’ll help you put new ones in.”
You agree instantly, happy to be rid of the uncomfortable cotton for at least a little while. After he throws the used gauze out, he returns back to the living room with his keys and phone in one of his hands, the other free for you to hold as he held it out to you. 
He pulls you off the couch and guides you back out to the Bronco, making sure to grab the bag that holds the gauze and meds that you would need to take afterwards. He knew it would be an early night as the medicine would most likely make you sleepy again, and that was why he waited until it was nearing eight before taking you out for milkshakes, so you could go back home and go to bed at a reasonable time. 
Bradley couldn’t do much for your discomfort, but he could sure as hell keep your sleep schedule on track. 
You leaned your head against the window as he drove into town, your eyes hazy as you listened to his quiet humming of the song that played on the radio. “I like your singing,” you murmur as you look at all the lit up shops that passed by. “You should do it more often.”
Bradley laughed from beside you as he pulled into the drive thru. “I sing all the time for you, baby,”
“I know,” you say and lift your head, looking over at him while he eyed all the flavors to choose from. “But I can never get enough of you, you know that.”
He lifted his hand and ran his knuckles along the bone of your cheek, admiring the way your pretty face looked in the dim lighting of the Bronco. “The feeling is mutual,” he grinned at you when you turned your head to place a kiss to the back of his hand. “What kind are you wanting to get?”
You hum as you lean over the center console, reading over the various flavors. “Strawberry,” you decide and run your nose along the sharp angle of his jaw. “Please.”
After ordering two shakes, and asking for a spoon, Bradley pulled into one of the many available parking spaces. He pulled off the lid of your shake and stuck the plastic spoon in it before handing it over to you. 
He watched you carefully as he sipped on his own shake, holding back a laugh at how puffy your face is. Of course, you saw him shift out of the corner of your eye and turn to him with a raised brow. “Sorry,” he grinned and set his shake down in the cup holder. “You look like a chipmunk.”
You just shake your head at him and slurp on the spoon, waiting until the cold substance dripped down your throat before saying, “You’re laughing at me,” you state and hear him snort and cover his mouth. “I’m in pain and you’re laughing at me.”
That just made him laugh harder, and you found yourself smiling at the sound. “I’m sorry,” he says and reaches over to gently caress your swollen cheek. “You still look as hot as ever.”
You roll your eyes and bring another spoonful of the milkshake to your lips. “Liar,”
“I mean it,” he promised, running his fingers over your jaw in a feather light touch before pulling away. “You’re the sexiest chipmunk I’ve ever seen, baby.”
When you laugh loudly, you wince immediately after, and Bradley quickly decides that you’d most definitely be a lot more comfortable at home. 
“Alright, I think we should get going. Are you okay to…eat that while I drive?” He asked as he sipped on his chocolate shake. You wave him off and take a much smaller amount on the spoon, knowing that Bradley would go off on you for spilling anything in his precious Bronco, but you also knew he’d wait until after you were feeling better. The thought had a warm feeling spreading all over your body, as did his next words, “Okay, we’ll head home. You should take one of the antibiotics, first.”
You agree, and he holds your shake as you take the pill into your mouth. After rummaging around in the back with his free hand, Bradley hands you a warm water bottle, and he puts a reminder in his head to put the bottle in the fridge once he got home. 
“Okay?” He asked when you took back your milkshake. 
You nodded and have him a half smile, “It’s probably going to make me tired,”
“I know, that’s a good thing. You should be pretty tired by the time we get back home, and then you can go to bed and sleep off a bit of the pain,” he pointed out as he put the Bronco in reverse. Before he actually started moving, he gave you a serious look. “Do not spill that shake, pretty girl.”
You laugh quietly and give him a side glance as you sipped a bit of the milkshake from the cup.
“I mean it, baby,” he was only half serious in his warning as he started the short ride back home, one hand on the wheel while his other one held his plastic cup. “That cute face will only get you so far.”
You just shake your head and lean over to press a kiss to his cheek that you couldn’t feel yourself do. Your lips were still numb, so you were really trying to be as careful as possible with not spilling your milkshake. 
Luckily, you arrived back home without letting a drop hit a single spot in the interior of his Bronco, and Bradley gave you a chocolate tasting kiss as a reward as he led you back up to the house. 
Once you were in your room, he helped dress you in one of his shirts and sweats. After concluding that the bleeding had stopped, he decided there was no need to shove move gauze into your mouth, as that would most likely make it start to bleed again. 
He pulled back the covers and sat down next to you, smiling down at your emotionless face and tired eyes. “You doing okay?” He asked as he brushed away some of your hair. 
“Yeah,” you mumbled, taking his hand in yours and trying to kiss it. He just grinned at your attempt. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
Bradley leaned down and kissed your forehead gently. “I always will, you know that,” you nodded as he pulled away and stood up. “Do you want an ice pack for the night? Might help with the swelling.”
After thinking about it, you nod and wait for him to return back into the room with the ice pack. He wrapped it in a dish towel and gently placed it against your jaw before stripping down into just his boxer briefs. 
He settles down in bed behind you, hesitant to touch you at the moment in case you needed space. When you just laughed quietly and grabbed his hand so you could wrap his arm around your waist, he inched closer to you and allowed you to rest the ice pack between his shoulder and your jaw. He was glad he put the towel around it, but he also wouldn’t have minded having to feel it unwrapped against his bare shoulder. He’d suck it up for you. 
“I love you, pretty girl,” he murmured and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 
“I love you,” you mumbled back, snuggling closer to him as the effects of the antibiotics began taking over your body. 
As Bradley held you while you slept, he felt glad that he was the one you wanted to look after you. He loved you beyond words and he felt as though this was the beginning of his attempts to even out the balance in your relationship. It was you who constantly looked after him, and though he loved it, he also felt guilty that there weren’t many occasions where he was the one who looked after you. 
After spending the day taking care of your every need and being the one person you wanted to see you vulnerable, he decided that after this he would put more effort into showing you how much he appreciated and adored you. 
He was ready to move onto a new chapter in his life with you by his side, if the small box tucked away in his box of collectable cards was anything to go by. 
All he had to do was hope you’d say yes.
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ceilidho · 2 months
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Sorry to dump this here, but no one in my immediate and/or accessible circle reads as much as I do and this conversation came up at the right time.
I don't read a lot of romance and I started reading some popular ones last year to ease my way into it. I feel like such a snob to say this, but the plot and writing are never fully fleshed out nor are the characters. None of the romantic actions I see people swoon over are ever explained well enough for me to understand the hype. A scene in which there should be an emotional inner monologue is shorted to a paragraph and if the character is toxic (I understand a lot of people enjoy toxic/dark men, but romance books never write them well enough) and destroys the other character's life/says a relationship-ending lie/any other cliche, there is never enough explanation, justification, groveling, or any thought process behind the reconciliation.
It's always just one half-written and half-baked trope after the other.
Again, apologies for dumping it here, but I think there are such damning consequences for women (the main demographic of romance readers) who read things like this and don't give constructive criticism or thought when facing these problems.
no but you're 100% right. i mean, this is one annoying bitch's opinion (mine LMAO) but trad publishing is in the absolute pits right now. that's not to say that there aren't still some good books coming out because of course, every now and then you're going to get a gem. but i think the environment has become outwardly hostile to good writing.
i mean, i know this has been discussed a ton, but the "fast fashionization" of books has become a huge problem. every time there's a new microtrend or whatever, every author rushes to push out a book to meet the demand (see: the hockey romance trend). this, obviously, means that the editing time is severely compressed and you get books published by like harper collins and penguin with typos, grammar issues, and more.
i got some flack for this when i posted about it on twitter ahah but i honestly do not understand why the sequel to "fourth wing" came out so soon (not even getting into the messy qualities of the first book). sequels used to take a year or more to come out to allow for the book to go through several rounds of editing and fine tuning! what happened??!!
i think authors now feel compelled to get their books out as soon as possible out of fear that booktok/readers will simply move on after the initial hype and they'll lose their reader base. there's like an anxiety about being left behind in the current publishing world.
this is kind of in line with what i was talking about the other day with Bo actually - writing romance and smut is actually way harder than people think. you can't just use the same 5 recycled porn dialogue lines and call it a day. you have to care a little about the story you're trying to tell, not just churning it out to make a buck or to make people pay attention to you. i'm not saying belabour every single action and decision made by your main character or go crazy on description (i still think the sweet spot for a published book is between 250-300 pages, and maybe more if you're writing a genre specific book that involves a lot of worldbuilding), but as a writer you need to want to be writing that book in the first place.
no one who's legitimately excited about what they're writing is going to resort to cliches and overused tropes - they might lean on tropes they like, but there's inevitably going to be something original and exciting there.
also my lil controversial opinion about the state of trad publishing lately is that i think it's 100% influenced by this weird pervasive strain of purity culture that's on booktok where people feel like any enjoyment they get from reading a particular thing has a direct reflection on them as a person and their values. rather than it just being a book.
(by the way i actually completely agree with you that even dark romances are as bad as everything else we've been talking about - that's another conversation lol. i also kind of agree with the idea of more romance books coming with content warnings on the front page - this hasn't really caught on yet except with some dark romance authors but i think it's a really good idea)
i don't think there's anything wrong about people getting excited about books on tiktok and instagram and youtube btw. i think it's a fun way to share recommendations, commentary, and interests. what i think is the big problem is that the publishing industry has almost become beholden to trends and online perception because they've seen how much profit they can generate by catering to it, and i think that's why books now just feel bland and soulless. they're tapping into a FOMO on both the authors' and writers' side, of either being left behind and not being able to make a living, or missing out on what everyone else is reading and talking about.
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 9 months
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I got one the follower bishops with someone that they love dearly but when their love goes on a missionary quest by the lamb they return with similar injures to them ( leshy 's love get blinded' hetek's get their voice permanently damaged, kallamar's lose their ability to hear, and shamura's get brain damage.)and survive it. Sorry for the long ask btw it just been in my head for a while now.
It's okay! I don't mind the long ask ^^
...........
Leshy
During your most recent (and probably last) missionary, something went horribly wrong.
All you remembered was a bomb scout attacking you, when they accidentally dropped a bomb in the struggle. It killed them but sent shrapnel flying towards your face before everything went dark.
You thought for sure you were dead. But luckily Ratoo rescued you and brought you to the heart chamber, helping you heal up in the red pool.
Unfortunately, it did nothing to restore your sight, though he guided you back to the cult grounds anyways, informing Lamb of your condition.
Leshy heard your voice and abandoned his current task to run over to you, smelling your fear and anxiety.
He was utterly confused as you called out his name and grasped the air. Surely you would have seen him right there. You were looking at him!
Unless...
All he had to do was feel the scars around your face, realizing you couldn't see him at all. You have gone completely blind, just like him.
He immediately blames Lamb, wanting to put their head on a pike for sending you out on a missionary so ill-prepared.
However you insisted it wasn't their fault, telling him not to be so angry with them...and for once he listens to your pleas, opting to take care of you instead.
Until you're comfortable enough to navigate the cult grounds by yourself, don't expect Leshy to leave your side anytime soon.
You two might get matching blindfolds if Lamb deems it necessary to prevent infection (or if you're insecure about the wounds)
Heket
After retrieving some resources in Anchordeep, you returned to the cult grounds feeling okay, aside from a sore throat you got after unknowingly drinking contaminated water.
However Lamb insists you rest in the Medbay so you didn't spread anything and allowed you to be absent from sermons.
But they quickly realized that camelia tea, the "miracle cure" of all sicknesses, wasn't alleviating your ailment one bit.
In fact, by the end of the week..it had gotten to the point where it hurts too much for you to talk, your vocal cords having ultimately succumbed to the infection.
But you begged your leader not to tell Heket yet.
You've been her voice for so long. What would she think of you if you lost yours now?
Lamb respects your wishes, though it's difficult keeping her away from you as she demands to know what's going on.
You used to join her for meals every day...and now she feels quite lonely and doesn't know why or what she might've done.
Are you really that sick? Were you dying?
While Lamb's crusading, they had a follower guard the Medbay's entrance, but Heket easily shoves them aside so she can finally see you, asking what happened on your missionary.
You resort to writing how you lost your voice, feeling terrible about it as you knew this was entirely preventable.
But to your surprise, she's very reassuring and says you don't have to speak for her anymore, though she wishes you told her sooner. She was sad about you missing dinner with her :(
She's been reading a book on sign language (recovered from Silk Cradle by Lamb), promising to teach you so communication is easier.
The two most important phrases she wanted you to know are "I love you" and "are you hungry".
Shamura
Regardless of how you received brain damage (be it a serious concussion or your head getting split open like theirs), it's going to be a difficult and painful healing process.
Lamb, Shamura, and even you had no clue how you survived the journey back to the cult with blood pouring down your face...but your leader immediately treats your wounds and orders you to rest up.
Whenever the arachnid visits you, seeing your head wrapped in bandages just like them, it breaks their heart to see you such a state.
While their memories get jumbled up at times, the one thing they always remember is how much they loved you.
However, your own memories got so badly scrambled that all you could recall is the Shamura from before--as the Bishop of War--and you begged them not to kill you.
Lamb ordered them to leave the Medbay so you'd calm down, but they're quite devastated over the matter.
For days they could barely go near you without you staring at them in terror.
As much as it hurts, they don't blame you. Only the cruel person who made you (quite literally) lose your mind.
With time and help from the other ex-bishops, they'd slowly regain your trust and explain how you fell in love with them, speaking in rhymes and simple poetry.
Sometimes you'd still forget, but they'll do their best to remind you.
Just as you have always done for them.
Kallamar
You know how followers will sometimes ask Lamb to send other followers on missionary quests?
Welp, this happened with you..and Kallamar was rightfully outraged, trying to convince you not to go.
But you reassured him this journey will be good for your spirit, asking that he sent you off in the evening.
And he reluctantly does, giving you a crystal as protective "charm".
He spends the next 1-3 days anxiously awaiting your return.
When you do come back, you're alive but....not necessarily well.
He realizes this right away when he tries helping you get the bag off your shoulders, asking what happened and where you went.
Much to his confusion, you kindly ask if he could speak a bit louder.
It's not much longer after that when he realizes you've lost your hearing entirely.
If you became deaf due to a loud explosion leaving you with permanent damage, he wouldn't have suspected anything until Lamb confirms it.
If your ears got torn out in a similar fashion to his, he's going to notice that right away and freak tf out, bandaging what's left to the best of his ability.
He's convinced that one follower made Lamb send you away on purpose...and they get into a big argument that's only resolved by the fighting pit ritual.
Although you couldn't hear much of the cheering and shouting, you applaud Kallamar after he beats them up, happy he wanted to defend your honor.
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Text
Cover To Cover - Danny Wagner
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A/N: FINALLYYYY! 2 weeks later and it’s finally done. Yet another idea from @theweightofjake ‘s beautiful mind. I LOVED writing this one. I definitely kinda rushed through proof reading this, so I’m sorry for any mistakes in advance!
WARNINGS: Cockwarming, oral (both receiving), choking, spanking, slapping, fingering, hair pulling, degradation, a little bit of praise sprinkled in, unprotected sex.
••••
“Babe, don’t you need to get ready?” Danny questioned, rolling up the sleeve of his button up as he walked into the room.
“Yeah, let me just finish this one page and then I swear I’m gonna go get ready.” You basically brushed him off, never moving your eyes from the book in your hands.
Danny let out a defeated sigh, disappearing back down the hallway, leaving you to your book.
While Danny was away on tour, you had decided to start picking up some new little hobbies here and there - Reading being the one that stuck the most out of everything you had tried.
You read through numerous books a week, varying in genres. From Fiction, to mystery, to fantasy - literally a little bit of everything.
Fantasy was your current kick… And as bad as it seemed to you at times, it was really only because of the beautifully written sex. Which is exactly why Danny found you -yet again- lost in your own little world, when you were really supposed to be getting ready for your date.
His curiosity was certainly starting to rise, wondering what in that book could have you so distracted and seemingly disconnected from what was going on around you.
But little did he know, one of your favorite parts about reading these fantasy books, was imagining Danny saying or doing all those obscene things to you.
Danny was always quite talkative in bed, but he typically always went straight to praising you - Never really being one to degrade or be really rough. Praise was his go-to and you absolutely adored that, but the idea of him calling you names… degrading you and being more forceful with you, had you in a silent frenzy.
Until you had started reading these smutty books, such filthy, kinky things hadn’t really crossed your mind all that much. Danny gave you everything you wanted and more… But you couldn’t deny, there was a deeply hidden part of you that longed to try some new things with him.
All you could thinking about while drinking in the words along each page, was Danny spanking you, edging you mercilessly, Calling you his slut, his pretty whore.
And the longer you read, the more intense your desire for it all became.
“Baby, seriously… You’re not gonna have any time if you don’t start now.” Danny walked back into the living room, reaching out for the book as though he was going to take it from you. He didn’t want to resort to that, but he was too excited to spend some uninterrupted time with you…Especially since you had your nose shoved in a book all day, practically ignoring him.
“Danny! What are you doing?!” You jumped up, reaching for the book that he had swiped out of your hands.
“Y/N, we have to leave for our date soon.” Danny reminded you yet again, clearly trying to hide his mild frustration.
“Alright, babe, alright. I’m getting up now,” you sighed, getting up on your toes to kiss his cheek gently. “Can I at least have my book back?”
“Nope,” Danny chuckled, tossing the book down on the coffee table before walking off towards the kitchen.
“Danny.” You huffed, being slightly childish about the whole thing. Only out of fear that if he made you leave it out in the living room, he would read it…
Danny finding out about the things you were reading definitely scared you, but what was even worse, was the thought of him questioning you - Asking if these were things you wanted. Even though they were and you wanted to tell him about your desires, you weren’t sure how he would feel about doing such things to you.
“Mhm, see you when you’re ready to leave, babe.” Danny waved you off, waiting for you to take off down the hallway, before he disappeared into the kitchen.
You turned around and headed down the hallway with a soft groan to yourself, nerves bubbling up inside you out of fear that Danny would read it. You tried to tell yourself that he wasn’t interested enough in it to do that, but part of you still didn’t fully believe that.
You started the shower, stepping in and trying to let the hot water wash away your nerves… And also need that had started to take over, from the filthy things you’d just read about some fictional couple doing - Wishing you and Danny could be doing those things.
Little did you know, Danny was well invested into the pages of your book.
He sat down on the couch, eyes landing on the book he had taken from you just minutes ago.
His curiosity definitely got the better of him and he picked it up; still wondering what could possibly have you so hooked.
Not to mention that he noticed the deep blush that was adorning your cheeks and how your bottom lip was tucked tightly between your teeth, when he first came in to remind you about getting ready for the evening.
His eyes scanned the pages, widening with each passing sentence. It was not at all what he had expected to see, but as shocked as he was, he was immensely intrigued and… turned on?
His brain flooded with a million questions, the main one being: ‘Is this why she’s so trapped in this book? Because she wants me to do these things to her?’
Danny’s lips tugged upwards at the corners, pulling into a soft smile - Full of mischief and desire to give you what you wanted.
Or what he figured you wanted…
He wasn’t entirely sure, as you’d never mentioned doing anything remotely close to this before. At the same time, he could connect the dots himself… There was no way you would be so stuck in that book, if it wasn’t something part of you desired.
Reading as many pages as he could, Danny absorbed all the different kinks that were mentioned, the names, safewords, the aftercare. All of it.
His mind raced with what to do; either take you to dinner like he had planned and lightly test the waters, or just confront you about it here at home, basically saying ‘fuck the date,’ so he could fuck you senseless.
Of course, with how turned on Danny had become at the thought of seeing you writhing and begging underneath him - the latter definitely sounded like the most appealing option. There were plenty more days the two of you could go on a date anyway.
~
You stepped out of the shower, drying off as quickly as possible before you wrapped the towel around your body and scrambled to your closet in search of a dress to wear.
Light footsteps could be heard coming down the hall, growing louder and louder by the second and you knew it was Danny, presumably coming to see if you were ready. Again.
Your eyes landed on your favorite, deep red dress and grabbed it off the hanger, carrying it out of the closet. You tossed it on the bench at the end of your bed and walked over to the dresser in search for a bra and panties.
Danny finally came around the corner and you immediately started to assure him you were almost ready to leave.
“Baby, I promise I’m almost-“
“Am I too soft for you?“ Danny cut you off, leaning against the doorframe.
“What?” You eyed him questioningly, unsure of exactly what he meant at first.
“You heard me. Am I too soft for you?” Danny repeated with a little more force behind each word.
Suddenly it clicked. You realized that Danny definitely read your book and was obviously now well aware of what your hidden desires were - Thanks to all the books you had read, that brought said desires to your attention.
“I still don’t- I uhm...” You stumbled over your words, becoming flustered and incredibly hot under his fiery stare.
Danny took a few slow, long strides towards you, pressing you back firmly against the dresser as soon as his hands could reach you.
“I already know the answer… I just wanna hear you say it.” He smirked wickedly, one of his hands trailing up your side and up to your throat. His fingers wrapped around it, searching your eyes for any signs of discomfort. Finding none, he squeezed lightly at first for a couple seconds, his lips turned up even more when the tiniest of whimpers escaped your shock parted lips.
Finally you found at least a little power to form a coherent sentence. “You- You’re not too soft f-“
“Bullshit.” Danny cut you off again, squeezing his fingers around your throat a little harder. “I mean, maybe I’m not… But obviously you wish I was rougher. Don’t you?”
“M-maybe,” you squeaked, eyes falling away from his. “You read my book, didn’t you?”
Danny’s hand stayed firmly around your throat, his other hand digging into the flesh of your hip as he used the weight of his body to press you harder into the dresser. The cold, wooden knobs dug into the middle of your back, causing another whimper to fall from your lips.
“Does this seem soft to you? Hm?” His lips ghosted over your cheek, making goosebumps form over your skin. “I want an answer.”
“You first,” you huffed, still waiting for his admission to reading your book.
“I’ll answer your question when i’m ready to answer it.” Danny bit at the skin below your ear, tugging you away from the dresser, turning you around and shoving you towards the bed.
With the initial shock and rush of nerves from Danny’s unexpected switch, you felt a little more confidence growing inside you. Danny seemed pretty into and comfortable with this new found dominance, so you decided to test the waters a little bit.
“I said: You first.” You nipped, using every bit of strength in your body to keep yourself upright and firm, when Danny had given a shove to your shoulders to push you down on the bed.
Danny’s arm wrapped around your back, jerking your still naked body roughly into his own, while his other hand tangled into your hair. He used his grip on your hair to pull your head back, forcing you to look up at him.
“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” Danny tugged your hair a little harder, leaning down to ghost his lips over your ear. “That mouth will get you in a world of trouble, if you’re not careful.”
A rush of heat flooded your body, causing an almost painful pulse in your core. Your eyes fluttered closed as you arched into Danny’s body, searching for any sort of friction in hopes of finding some relief.
“Look. At me.” He demanded lowly, bringing his face level with yours again and loosening the grip his fingers had on your hair. “Look at me.”
Danny waited until your beautiful orbs were visible to him again before he started to speak.
“Your safe word is ‘guitar’, okay?” Danny’s tone was softer, much like what you were used to. “If you just want me to slow down, say ‘yellow.’ We’ll slow down and figure out where you are in terms of your limits.”
“Yes sir,” you nodded.
“Same goes for you, Danny.” you added on, searching his eyes for any signs of hesitation or doubt.
“Okay.” He smiled warmly. A little reminder that your sweet Danny was not too far away.
“Here’s how this is gonna go, baby..”Danny began to slip back into his domineering side, forcing you down onto the bed. “You’re gonna take what I give you and if you even once dare complain, you won’t get to cum.”
You nodded in understanding, knowing deep down that his threat was probably empty. Even still, you weren’t exactly willing to test that theory. At least not yet… you might rethink that later, after Danny has likely teased you relentlessly.
Danny stared at you for a moment, looking to be thinking something over. He beckoned you back down to the end of the bed with a single finger, sitting down on the edge himself and pulling you into his lap.
“Wanna ride my thigh?” He hooked two fingers under your chin, ghosting his lips over yours. “Hmm? Wanna ride my thigh like a needy little slut?”
Your lips parted in a low whimper, but Danny wasn’t at all satisfied with your lack of a verbal answer. His fingers retreated from under your chin, his fingertips coming down on your cheek in a light smack.
He searched your face immediately after and when you didn’t protest or show any signs of dislike towards the action, he continued.
“I want you to answer me when I ask you questions, do you understand?”
“Yes sir, I understand.” You whispered, hands traveling up his arms and up to his muscular shoulders. “I promise I’ll be a good girl for you.”
“Good.”
Danny closed the small gap between the two of you, kissing you with an intensity that you weren’t at all used to from him. You gasped against his mouth, digging your fingers deeper into his shoulders - trying to steady yourself, so that you could kiss him back with the same energy.
Danny’s cool hands made their way from your hips, up your sides, eventually making it up to your exposed chest. Goosebumps formed along your skin, fiery trails being left behind in the wake of his rough, roaming hands.
His fingers toyed with each of your hardened nipples, pinching them harder and harder until a moan finally bubbled out of you.
“Fuck Danny..”
Your hips involuntarily rolled, grinding your core against Danny’s clothed thigh.
“What a poor, needy, thing. Already trying to get some pleasure.” Danny tsked, stopping your hips with his strong hands.
“Sir please, you said you wanted-“
Danny cut off your whining. “Yeah, I know what I said… But did I tell you that you could move yet?”
“No, sir..” You sighed, feeling like you could cry from how desperate you felt and Danny had barely even done anything yet.
But this was what you had been fantasizing about for a while now. Your books having been how you would escape into your own little world, where you would always imagine Danny doing these things.
And now (maybe not in the most ideal way to you), it was happening and you had no idea how to contain the eagerness, need and excitement cursing through every inch of your body.
“Poor thing… so worked up she can’t even listen.” Danny taunted, one of his hands moving in between your body and his thigh, groaning lowly when he felt your wetness on his fingers. “Naughty girl… you’re fucking soaked.”
Danny slipped a single finger inside you, immediately drawing a loud moan from you.
“Danny please-“ you whimpered, falling forward into his chest.
His finger disappeared instantly, accompanied by a disapproving hum.
“Now, that’s not what you call me, is it?”
“No sir, I’m sorry. I won’t do it again, I promise.” It took everything in you not to roll your hips into his jean clad thigh again.
“You wanna ride my thigh now, pretty girl?” Danny questioned, tilting his head back as he eyed you.
“Yes! please, I want to so bad,” you whined, flashing Danny your best doe eyes.
“Go on then, be a good little whore and do it.” He urged, guiding your already swiveling hips. “Make a mess all over my jeans, Y/N.”
The way Danny’s jeans rubbed against your clit, was almost enough to make you cum right away. It was an unfamiliar feeling, a feeling that you never would have imagined would feel as good as it did.
Your nails dig into the backs of Danny’s clothes shoulders. You contemplated trying to hide your already impending orgasm, not wanting to have the first (of many) ripped away from you.
But Danny was way ahead of you.
“Aw, are you close already?” He cooed devilishly, knowing full well he was ready to stop you at any given second. “Don’t lie to me, baby.”
“Fine, yes, I’m close.” you groaned reluctantly.
“Stop.” Danny commanded. It took you a few moments, but you eventually willed your hips to a stop.
“Oh, so you can listen…” Danny mumbled.
He picked you up off his lap as he stood up and carefully placed you down on your feet.
“On your knees.” Danny pointed to the floor in front of him and without giving it a second thought, you sunk down to the hardwood floor.
“Atta girl. You look so pathetic and pretty down on your knees like that.”
His way of praising you and degrading you all at once, had you soaking your thighs… And probably the floor.
You watched Danny’s every move as he undid his belt, the button and the zipper of his pants. Slowly, he undid every button of his black shirt and you watched how the veins in his fingers moved as he did so.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty…” You didn’t mean to say it out loud, but the split second that you saw Danny’s dominance waver, was well worth letting it slip out. “Leave the shirt on, please? It looks so nice on you…”
“Aren’t you sweet,” Danny cooed dryly, leaving only his shirt on. “Don’t try to soften me up now.”
Taking a step closer to you, Danny tucked a finger under your chin and tipped your head back.
“Be my sweet little cock slut and suck it, sweetheart.” Danny stroked himself with his hand a few times, before he released himself and your face, to let you take over.
“And no touching yourself.”
You took him in your hand, placing a soft kiss to his tip before answering him. “Yes sir.”
You gave a few teasing licks against his tip, but left it at that in fear of being scolded for too much teasing. Taking him deeper into your mouth, a low sound rumbled out of his chest. There was nothing you loved more than Danny’s sounds of pleasure. So deep and gravely, sounding as though they’ve come up from the deepest parts of him.
“You’re so good. So, so good.” There’s that side of Danny you knew so well, the side he couldn’t help but revert back to at the mercy of your mouth.
Your free hand that rested atop your thigh. subconsciously began inching up higher and higher. Pleasing Danny always got you even more worked up.
“Don’t do it.” Danny warned.
You hadn’t even realized Danny had
peered down to watch you. Your hand stilled in it’s place at his warning, just shy of your aching core.
It was clear Danny was getting off on how you obeyed nearly every command he gave you; feeling him twitch in your mouth rapidly a few times, signally he was already growing close.
“Does my dirty girl want me to cum in her mouth?” He asked, tangling both of his hands in your hair.
A hum and a barely noticeable nod were all you could give him, as you took him deeper into your mouth.
“God, you’re filthy. All for me.”
You quickened your pace, eyes beginning to fill and overflow at the corners with tears. Just by Danny’s constant twitches and noises that grew progressively louder by the second, you knew he was about to come.
You hummed against him, your way of letting him know you were ready.
“Fuck- that’s it, Y/N. I’m gonna cum…” he trailed off into bliss, head falling back and grip tightening in your hair as he started to release into your mouth.
In the midst of him coming undone into your mouth… The heat of the moment, your fingers found their way to your throbbing clit, quickly trying to relieve some of the unbearable tension building there.
You planned to remove your fingers before Danny came all the way down, but unfortunately for you, he was just too attentive and aware - Even in his blissed out state.
“I thought-“ Danny pulled himself out of your mouth, yanking you up off the floor abruptly. “I thought I told you not to touch yourself?”
“I- I’m sorry, I just… I didn’t mean to!” You sputtered, but it was a poor excuse to even your own ears.
“You just wanna get off so bad, huh?” He laughed humorlessly, “But what did I tell you would happen if you didn’t listen?”
“You- You said I wouldn’t get to cum at all…” you answered weakly, mentally preparing for the suffering you were surely about to undergo.
“Mmm, you remembered so perfectly.” Danny shook his head in disappointment. “Lay down and a spread your legs.”
You obeyed him, laying down on the bed, fighting the urge to pull the comforter over your body as you spread your legs apart for him.
The way Danny was looking at you was so intensely, you almost wanted to sink straight into the mattress and disappear. All at the same time though, you never wanted him to take his eyes off you.
After what felt like an eternity under Danny’s steady, burning gaze, he peeled the black button up off his shoulders and climbed into bed.
“You’re so, so perfect, sweetheart…” Danny’s lips trailed up your sternum, the heat of his breath making your shiver in anticipation. “Too bad I have to fucking ruin you.”
“Please, Da- sir… I want you to ruin me.” You told him, eagerly pushing your chest up closer to his face.
“You really are a little slut,” Danny smirked, biting at your left collarbone. “My little slut.”
“Please, do something. Please.” You breathed, feeling the tips of his fingers drag lightly along your lower belly. “I promise I’ll be good.”
“Yeah, I think you said that earlier.” He muttered, glaring up at you through his eyelashes.
Working his way down your body, you smiled to yourself, knowing that at least a little bit of relief was in store. Even if it was only a little bit, it was better than nothing at all.
“I really should be making you beg for this.” His lips ghosted over your clit, driving you closer to insanity, so it felt like.
“You want me to beg? I’ll beg.” The words tumbled from you pathetically, causing Danny to laugh.
“You’ll be begging plenty real soon…” Danny said as if it were the most solid promise.
Without another word, or giving you any time to fully process what he had said, his tongue circled your clit.
Just the gentle caresses his tongue were giving you, felt like they were almost enough to make you fall over the edge right then and there.
“Yes… Fuck,” you moaned softly, hips bucking up into his tongue for more.
Danny’s tongue worked over your heat at a torturously slow pace. One of his hands eventually slipped in between your bodies, sinking into your entrance until he was just barely brushing against that sweet spot inside you.
“Please sir- need more, feels so good!” A small knot had started to form in the pit of your stomach, as you begged him for more.
“I- I think I’m close…”
“Already, huh?” Danny pulled away, replacing his lips with the pad of his thumb. “Do you think you deserve to cum so soon?”
It took you a moment to form a decent sentence, with the new added pressure of Danny’s thumb working over your clit.
“I… I don’t know..?” it tumbled out as more of a question, unsure if he would actually agree with you saying you deserved to.
“You don’t know? Come on now. I think you do know,” Danny pressed, nearly stilling his curling fingers inside you.
“Yes, yes I do. I’ve tried to be a good girl for you,” you whined out, frustration rising again as his fingers stilled completely.
“Tried isn’t good enough. You’ve gotta always be my good girl.”
Pulling his fingers out, Danny moved up the bed. He moved beside you and rested back against the headboard, pulling you into his lap.
“Want you to keep me warm, baby girl. Think you can do that?”
You looked at him slightly confused for a moment, unsure of what exactly he meant… Until he slowly guided himself to your entrance, letting you down just a little bit at first.
“Oh,“ you gasped and instantly lifted your eyes to meet his.
“That feel good?” Danny asked you, guiding you down a little bit lower.
“Fuck yes. Feels amazing,” you managed out, breathing quickening as he let you sink down the rest of the way.
Feeling Danny’s tip settled against your sweet spot and you fell forward, squeaking out a string of incoherent words into his neck.
“I’m not even moving and you’re a mess.” Danny taunted, staying completely still inside you.
“M-move please, Danny- Can I move?” you questioned pleadingly, trying to rock your hips.
Danny’s grip tightened on your hips, fingertips digging in so deep, there would likely be bruises there in the morning.
“Absolutely not.” He shot you down, amusedly taking in the pathetic whine that erupted from you.
“You better calm down. You’re being awfully whiny.”
You pushed yourself up from Danny’s chest, keeping your palms pressed against the toned muscles for support. But the upright angle only sent you straight back down against his chest. The way he nudged harder into your g-spot when you tried to sit up, was too much for you to handle - Especially if he wasn’t going to let you move yet.
“Does it feel too good?” Danny teased lowly. “Can my little slut not handle how good it feels?”
“I… I can take it.” You huffed out, without thinking better of it.
“Oh, really?” Danny’s chest shook in a quiet, deep, laugh. “Sit up, then.”
It took you a second to mentally prepare before you started to sit yourself back up. However, no amount of time could have truly prepared you for the constant, burning, pleasure in the pit of your stomach.
Your hands splayed across Danny’s stomach, while your chest heaved from the achingly delicious pressure.
“I bet they never did this in your little books,” Danny jested, giving the smallest thrust up into you that almost sent you collapsing back down into his body yet again, but one of his hands flew from your hips and up to your shoulder to stop you.
“Nope. Take it like a good girl… Since you said you could.”
Little hiccups and whimpers began to flow out of you, like a steady, clear stream of water running through the maintains somewhere.
“Beg, sweetheart. You want me to fuck you hard like a slut? Beg me for it.” He commanded, watching you with an unwavering smirk as you fought to find even a single thought.
“Use your words. Beg for it.”
“You… You’re killing me,” you said, just barely loud enough for him to hear.
Danny let out a genuine giggle; this was what you wanted after all.
“I’m not gonna say it again…” Danny spoke in an authoritative tone.
Another quick, sharp thrust upwards of his hips, was enough to send you babbling your way through begging and pleading, just the way he wanted.
“Fuck fuck fuck!” You cried, gasping to fill your lungs back up with air. “Fuck me, Danny please! Please I’ve been such a good girl for you. I- I just want you to fuck me into these god forsaken sheets, please please please-“
Drawing in a ragged breath that was barely even enough to fill your lungs up again, you continued on.
“Make me cry, choke me - I don’t even care, just please fuck me absolutely hysteric-“
Danny wrapped his arms around you and flipped you onto your back swiftly, effectively shutting you up.
Slamming back into you, Danny’s hand found your through, while his other held him up above you.
“That’s my pretty baby, begging me like the good little slut I know she is.”
“Fucking christ, Danny!“ You cried out, hands roaming frantically around his upper body until they found the back of his shoulders.
Moving his hand up to your jaw, he turned your face to the side and attacked your neck with harsh bites.
“Fuck.” Danny groaned into your skin, thrusting into your faster.
High pitched gasps fluttered out of you; jolts of fiery bliss shooting through your body with each snap of Danny’s hips.
“Is this hard enough for you??” Danny rasped, sucking a dark hickey below your ear. “Or do you need it even harder?”
“H-harder-“ you choked out, chasing after your high at a desperate rate; feeling a light burn return to your core. “I- I’m getting so close.”
“Yeah? You think I should let you come now?” Danny hiked up one of your legs over his shoulder, driving into you even deeper and harder.
“Yes! Yes, please let me come-“ you sobbed, eyes squeezing shut from all the intense pleasure. “-Want you to come with me, Danny. Inside me.”
An animalistic sound rumbled out of him, unlike any noise you had ever heard come from Danny.
You felt him throb against your walls as he pounded into your g-spot mercilessly.
Danny’s thumb found your clit, rubbing urgent circles into it to bring you right up to the edge of ecstasy with him.
Your eyes rolled back into your head, the noises that had once been flowing freely from you stopped and you fell completely silent - Besides a choked gasp for air.
I’m moments like these, you were so glad Danny knew your body well and didn’t need you to tell him you were right there; he already knew.
“Come on, baby, let it go-“ He moaned through gritted teeth. “Fucking give it all to me.”
Clenching around him, your body unraveled at his verbal permission… Like your body was just waiting for him to tell you it was okay.
Danny was only seconds after you, spilling every drop of his release inside you, just like you had told him
Pulling out of you carefully, Danny collapsed into you, creating a tangled mess of sweaty and twitching limbs.
After Danny finally caught his breath, he spoke up softly. “Wanna take a bath together?“
“Yeah,” you nodded gently, cracking a soft smile.
Returning your smile, Danny hauled himself up and out of the bed, placing a kiss to your cheek before walking off to the bathroom.
A few minutes passed and you caught yourself dozing off to the sounds of Danny humming and the running water from the bathroom.
“C’mere,” Danny made his way around to your side of the bed, scooping you up in his arms.
“How did you manage to read the sex and the aftercare, all while I was in the shower earlier?” You giggled and he shrugged with a straight face. “A good magician never reveals his secrets.”
“Oh, please.” You grumbled, rolling your eyes playfully.
Danny helped you into the tub, making sure you were situated before he settled in behind you and pulled you back against his body.
The two of you sat in silence for a minute or two, just taking in the warmth of the water and the comfort of each other’s bodies.
“Baby?”
“Hmm?” You leaned your head back at his shoulder, glancing up at him fondly.
“You know I’m always down to try new things, right?” Your eyes fell forward at his question.
“Yeah. I know… I just didn’t know how to tell you.” You admitted, staring at the wall.
“Babe, I will literally try just about anything with you.” Danny’s laugh shook your body gently, making you smile. “There’s really no limits… within reason, of course.”
“Well,” You smirked slyly, trailing a hand up his leg. “That’s good to know, because there’s a lot more things I’d like you to do to me.”
@theweightofjake @theharryhype @jake-kiszkas-smirk @shutupdevvie
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Text
Mapi Leon Recommendations
[disclaimer: i did not write any of the stories in these masterlists, full credit goes to the respective authors]
Key: *fluff, **angst, ***smut
* ugly sweater - oneshot you and mapi get ready for the barcelona christmas photoshoot
* everything and more - oneshot mapi is head over heels crazy in love with you
* | ** you made your mark on me - oneshot you fuck up the arrangement
* chinese fortunes - oneshot the barcelona team go to a chinese restaurant
* | ** broken heart, healing souls - oneshot mapi cheats on you...
* in love with an insomniac - oneshot mapi helps you navigate your insomnia
* ficlet no 1 - oneshot you get sent home from the world cup early after getting injured
* | ** "touch her and you'll learn" - oneshot you and mapi see your ex girlfriend
* car troubles - oneshot You grew up in Barcelona, played football as a kid but as you got older, life got in the way so you chose a more traditional work-life. Having worked in your family's garage for the past 3 years, you were in line to be the owner soon enough.
* | ** from hero to villain - completed Story arc that has Y/N go from a la Masia promise, to hero, to villain. With different love interests along the way, the Catalonian doesn't shy away from a challenge. Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
* | ** powerful - oneshot you get injured on the field and mapi is nothing if not protective Trigger Warnings: injury
* | ** spilling the tea - oneshot mapi likes you but ends up hurting you on the pitch
* | ** "go to sleep" - oneshot you are a war time reporter assigned to ukraine Trigger Warnings: War, PTSD - read at your own discretion
* | ** please - oneshot mapi has to do cpr on you Trigger Warnings: Major injury
* | ** i'm okay - oneshot your nose gets broken and mapi sees red Trigger Warnings: injury
* unnamed blurb - oneshot mapi tries to teach you spanish
* | ** some days are just harder than others - oneshot you're struggling and mapi wants to help you Trigger Warnings: Mental health and insecurity
* unnamed injury fluff - oneshot you get injured in the last game of the season and you're worried you won't make it to the world cup. mapi is there to help
* zone breaker - oneshot you shock the team when mapi allows you to break her zone
* | ** the bad stuff - oneshot mapi won't let you meet her teammates
* even more than football - oneshot after you transfer to barcelona you get very close with a certain defender, who, luckily enough for you, starts to develop feelings which you happily reciprocate.
* in sickness and in health - oneshot mapi takes care of you when you're sick
* suspicious - oneshot you wear mapi's sweater to the game
* the kit switch - oneshot you only realise what's wrong when you can't take it back
* | ** "how long have you been there" - oneshot you forgot your keys but you don't want to bother mapi Trigger Warning: hypothermia
* | ** looks can be deceiving - oneshot While playing against your team in Paris, Mapi learns just how close you and a fellow PSG teammate have gotten. 
* | ** hiking - oneshot you get injured when you go hiking with some of your teammates Trigger Warning: injury and deterioration
* fifa - oneshot you and mapi play fifa against each other
* | ** you are enough - oneshot you're insecure but mapi assures you you're enough Trigger Warnings: Insecurity
* kisses and crutches - oneshot When Mapi's stubbornness puts her at odds with her own recovery, you resorts to a unique form of persuasion, kisses.
* colouring book - oneshot you colour in mapi's tattoos
* personal tattoo artist - oneshot Mapi helps reader to overcome her fears but not without a cheeky proposal
* | ** new fear unlocked - oneshot you and mapi play against each other in the euros final Trigger Warnings: injury
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blitzyn · 1 year
Note
Thoughts on modern Jock!Childe ? This au lives in my head rent free and iusudgdbjchdhdjchcbcksg
HELP I WHILE I WAS WRITING THIS I KINDA FORGOT THAT IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE JOCK CHILDE. i hope this is ok though. if it's not u can request something else/the same thing and ill try my best to come up with something more related to what u want. also!! i wasn't sure if you wanted nsfw or not so i just kept it sfw
gn!reader
> I can see him playing American football or hockey, truthfully. He enjoys the thrill of dangerous body-to-body contact and fast paced gameplay.
> He, surprisingly, knows how to play various other sports, too. He may not be the best, but he is well informed on the rules and the general idea of how to play. Just give him about 10 minutes to get the hang of it, and it'll be like he was born for that sport.
> He devotes a lot of time on his primary sport, but always makes sure he does his school assignments. Alongside with his desire to be the best in his sport, he also strives to be phenomenal academically, even if the work he turns in isn't the very best sometimes.
> Now! Childe isn't one to focus on romantic relationships very often. He doesn't believe he has a need for one. He's got enough attention in his school as it is. He's confident he could find someone in record time with the sheer amount of fans he has, but he also doesn't want to waste his time on someone if they don't truthfully like him and only view him as a trophy to flaunt.
> But that's also where you come in! It took him a while to get to properly know you, much to his delight. Don't get him wrong, he enjoys meeting new people and the small talk it brings, but he prefers the challenge of figuring out someone's quirks and habits before they tell him.
> You had also treated him like he wasn't a star student-athlete, and more like a friend. Like his status in school didn't matter. Although that was later into your friendship; you had spoken to him rather coldly at first.
> He was interested in how you so easily ignored the envious glares of particularly obsessive supporters when the two of you were chosen to be partners during a project one time. In previous experiences, some of his partners took it upon themselves to do most – if not all – of the work, leaving Childe with the sole job to present in front of the class. You did no such thing. You made sure to cut the workload in half between the two of you and kept it upon yourself to remind him of the upcoming deadline and to produce good work.
> He appreciated how you treated him like an equal, even if it was a bit harsh.
> And then came the dreaded time when a specific project required one of you to head to the other's house in order to properly complete it. You knew he had quite a number of admirers, but you'd never realized some of them would go so far as to begin threatening you (most of which you knew were empty), or even resort to going physical in order to instill fear.
> Of course, you never took them seriously. After all, they were diehard fans that would forget about Childe as soon as school was over. Although it did annoy you how they disrupted your routine for the sake of their own satisfaction.
> One fateful day, as you were making your way towards Childe's house after you had to go back to yours to grab something, two obsessive admirers managed to spot you. At first, they were easy to ignore, but they had very quickly resorted to shoving you to the floor when you refused to give them the reaction they wanted.
> Luckily, you weren't too far from Childe's house, and he managed to spot you from one of his windows. You'd never forget the looks on their faces when they saw him walk up with a cold, unamused, and almost angry glint in his eyes.
> After they had left, he insisted on buying you something in return for having to deal with those types of people because of him. He really was sorry!
> You begrudgingly accepted his offer, and went on a 'date' with him.
> It took quite a while of you denying your feelings for him for you to finally admit that you did, in fact, have a crush on him. Although it wasn't during a desired moment (it was while you were playing a game of truth or dare), it felt relieving to reveal what you had felt for so long. You were very glad to know that he felt the same.
Now, more about your relationship!
> You were very surprised to hear that Childe had been talking about you to his family. Even though it was your first time meeting them, it seemed as if you were an old friend to them.
> Loves to give gifts. You have no idea how he makes so much money to buy you things you've always wanted or even things you lingered your gaze on for more than five seconds. It always makes you feel a little bad since you don't give him anything very often, but he reassures you that all he needs is your smile. And a kiss.
> Very affectionate, too! There is not one moment where he doesn't at least have a hand on your body. It's even worse – or better, depending on how you see it – in private. Hugs you all the time. He does understand if you're more reluctant with physical touch, though. He asks for permission every time he wants to hold you unless you specifically tell him you're okay with it.
> Has a death grip when he's asleep. Once you're in his arms, you're stuck there the entire night. It'll take either you being stronger than him or some miracle to tug yourself out of his hold. It's kind of become a problem that you had to learn to accept.
> Loves kisses. He plants them everywhere - your forehead, cheeks, lips, neck, arm, anywhere where there's skin showing. It's mandatory to kiss each other before one of you leave the house. Even if you're only leaving to get the mail.
> I see him as more of a competitive arguer. A lot of the time, you two only argue about small things like where the TV remote goes or who's making dinner that night. But in the infrequent instances where you are genuinely arguing, he can't help but go on and on until he gets the last word.
> If you buy him a piece of jewelery, he always makes sure to kiss it after he takes it off in the locker room before a game. It's his good luck charm!
> Enjoys showing you off, but tones it down if you feel uncomfortable about it.
> He finds it hilarious when you try to squirm away from him after a victorious game. You whine and shout about how sweaty he is, but you're more than happy to give him his kiss. Most of the time.
> Occasionally waves to you when he gets the chance during his games. He loves seeing the smile it brings to your face when he does so.
Super sorry it's short, I ran out of ideas lol
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belphegorspillow · 1 year
Note
I was wondering if you could write about mc wanting to go back to their original timeline after lesson 16 ଘ(੭ ᐛ )♡
Hi Hi Love! Of course I can :] Thank you for the request
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GN!MC wants to go back to the Original Timeline
Warning there is death mentioned + spoilers [lesson 16] [Mostly Barbatos centered]
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Mc couldn't admit it to the brothers - but they have been having nightmares for the past few nights. The pain around their neck as if they felt they couldn't breathe.
The restless nights from nightmares and fear of what could happen while they were sleeping.
They want to go back, to where the brothers were kinder. Where Belphie considered them more as a friend than someone who killed his own sister.
The fear of the brothers possibly hurting them now was taking a large toll on them, that they were willing to do anything to leave.
That night, Mammon was clinging onto Mc's side as Belphie slept on their lap. Beel was on their left next to Mammon as Asmo as clinging onto Mc's free side. Levi was grumbling about how unfair it was.
As the group were watching Movies, the door slammed open, scaring the group as Lucifer entered.
"All of you out. Leave MC alone." Lucifer sighed and went to grab the back of Mammon's shirt as well as the sleeping Belphie to drag them out while he demanded the rest to leave Mc alone for now. As the group were fighting about it and lucifer changing into his demon form to use more of his power to get his brothers out the room...
Something in Mc broke as they stared at the black wings of the eldest..
"Good night Mc. Rest well." Lucifer sighed and closed the door after Mc softly replied a goodnight.
Mc soon would grabbed a bag stuffing whatever could fit inside before opening the window and leaving the house. They would get to the Diavolo's castle on foot. Barbatos will help them leave and go back.
Nothing was going to stop them. They wanted to go back. Go Home. To their real home. Not this one.
.
.
As they would enter Barbatos's room inside the castle, they were faced with the Butler who stood at the door. "Mc? Come inside." He allowed Mc in and lead them over to the bed inside the room. "What brings you here?"
"I want to leave..." Barbatos didn't expect that sudden demand. "I want to go back to the other timeline...where...where I...didn't...die... The one where I... I feel safe."
Barbatos looks at Mc and let out a sigh. "Mc. As much as I would want to help. The Barbatos in that timeline, got rid of it when the other you perished."
Mc froze as they stare at Barbatos. "Can't...you bring it back..." Barbatos just shook his head. "No. Mc. I can't..."
Mc would stare at the ground, their hands gripping onto the fabric of their night attire. Their vision blurred as tears fell onto their hands. They were stuck here.
With their murderer, with demons who tried to kill them, over and over.
They just want to go home.
Barbatos just watched in silence, he didn't know if he should comfort, but resorted in that Mc needed time. "I will be back. I will get you some tea..."
Once Barbatos left, he could hear loud cries coming from his room. As much as he wanted to help. He couldn't.
Barbatos was powerless in this situation.
And he never felt so upset in his life for failing you.
375 notes · View notes
autumnshighlady · 11 months
Text
I’ve Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 13)
NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER
summary: Rhys finally confronts the reader, and Nesta meets Beron.
warnings: Night Court slander, semi graphic torture
word count: 5.3k
DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE
a/n: once again I apologize for the wait, this chapter is a long filler chapter but I promise things will ramp up again soon! x
feedback is appreciated, just no hate pls! these are just my opinions, i’m more curious to see how you all like the writing and characterization and storylines!
part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / 
read on ao3
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READER POV
Rhysand’s words washed over you like a bucket of ice. Even your very heartbeat seemed to still – all sense of time had been lost to you already, but you swore the moon itself stopped its rotation in this very moment. Your mind was clear as you felt the urge to throw up, thinking back to those looks Rhys had been giving you at the ball in the Hewn City.
His words confirmed what you had feared the most: he knew.
“What…” Your voice trailed off, shaking. Even the ache in your shoulders and wrists from the strain of the shackles disappeared at the quick rise of your panic.
“Do not think these things go about in my court unnoticed.” Rhys said coldly, his eyes gleaming with arrogance at your squirming. “I knew there was something going on between you and Nesta. I’ll give you credit, (Y/N), not even Cassian or Azriel figured it out. They failed me in that sense, but it matters not. All it took was one peek inside your friend Gwyn’s head to figure everything out.”
Rage joined the panic that was churning within you. “You had NO RIGHT to look inside her head.” You spat at the High Lord, letting every ounce of hate shine through. It made you feel sick, Rhysand knowing exactly what Gwyn had gone through yet still choosing to invade her privacy. The priestess had been violated in one of the worst ways possible, and now the High Lord who had supposedly offered her protection had violated her mind.
You thought of Gwyn’s kind face, her large teal eyes that shone when she spoke about something she was passionate about. You thought about how long it must have taken for her to smile like that after Hybern, to trust people again and open herself up. If you didn’t hate Rhysand before, you definitely did now.
“It is my court, I have every right to do as I please if it concerns the safety of my court.” He said simply, brushing off your anger like a speck of lint.
You growled. “How could you do that to her? To a priestess so afraid of the world and males like you that it took her weeks just to leave that library?”
“Well, technically it’s your fault. I tried to look into your head to get answers, but could not get in no matter how hard I tried. Same with Nesta. That’s when I began to suspect something more than just friendship between the two of you, and dear Gwyneth was my last resort.”
“I’m going to fucking kill you.” You hissed, jerking your arms as much as possible. The chains clanked loudly, a harsh sound echoing throughout the eerie quiet of the cell.
“No, you will not.” Rhysand snorted. “But it seems Nesta came to Gwyn one day about an ancient spell, trying to find more information on it and how it could be used. Dear Gwyn tried so hard to help, pouring over dusty manuscripts for hours and hours but to no avail. Until one day she came across a record of an old spell between the goddess Estelle and her lover, Jayana. According to what Gwyn found, it dates back to when ancient gods ruled across the realms. Estelle was a mother goddess, a symbol of life, while Jayana was a goddess of war and death. They were opposites, yet the two fell in love. The mother and the warrior, joined as one.
 “When war broke out between the gods, Estelle and Jayana were taken by the other side and thrown into the pits of Hel as prisoners. The goddesses knew they were likely to die, so Estelle created a spell that would bind her with Jayana. It would allow them to communicate, even when they were far apart. They could feel what the other felt, sense both every ounce of fear and love the other had. But then the slaughter began, and many of the gods within the prison were slain. Jayana was dragged from Estelle’s arms and beheaded in front of her lover. It is said that the rage of Estelle is what broke the realms apart. She absorbed the life forces of the slain gods, including Jayana, and burst out of Hel. Nobody knows what happened to her after, apparently. Gwyn’s information ended there I am afraid.”
The story began to sink in, leaving your head reeling. Nesta had mentioned that the spell was from an ancient goddess, but to know the full story brought you both comfort and unease. While Nesta hadn’t told you this new information and Rhys very well could have been lying, some part of you knew it was true. It lined up with everything you felt through the bond – the fear you felt when Nesta was pulled into the Bog of Oorid, the ache in your chest at being away from her… it all made sense. Jayana and Estelle, if they even existed in the way Rhysand described, felt real. As you pondered the story, something akin to a soft glow warmed your chest for a split second, as if the bond itself were confirming the story.
“Which takes us back to you and Nesta,” Rhysand cleared his throat and continued, a small stream of dark mist twirling around his fingertips. “You used the spell, that much I know. And you used it for communication, to plot against me and my court, did you not?”
You couldn’t help but laugh dryly, causing the High Lord to cock his head angrily.
“Did I say something funny?” He said sternly.
“Look at yourself…” You rasped, unable to stop chuckling at how blind, or willfully cruel, the male before you was. “How could we not? It was never plotting against you, Rhysand, it was about not wanting to live under your roof and indebted to you for eternity. You locked us up, just like Tamlin did with your mate.”
At the mention of Feyre, that dark mist erupted from Rhysand’s palm and clamped around your throat. It was ice cold, stinging your skin but not cutting off your air entirely. His eyes were nearly black with rage, knuckles clenched as he snarled. “Do NOT speak of her.”
“What’s wrong, don’t like to face the truth?” You croaked. “At least Tamlin did it because he thought he loved Feyre. You, no…. you did it out of hate. You wanted to control us, not protect us.”
“Wrong.” The High Lord hissed furiously. “Nesta had a choice, and she chose the House of Wind.”
“Her other option was death. That is no fair choice, Rhysand. She would have been slaughtered in the human lands for being fae and you know it. The only reason you even entertained the House of Wind was because your mate is her sister. Admit it, you wanted us both either dead or completely under your control.”
Rhysand did not say anything, only growled with pure, feral hatred. Despite the pressure around your neck, you lifted your chin triumphantly. Rhysand had many masks, stacked on top of one another so that his true self was hidden by layers and layers. But you had ripped those down, seeing the High Lord for who he truly was – a cruel, bitter male who made no move to deny his desire to control you and Nesta. He prided himself on advocating for Illyrian women, patted himself on the back for helping the traumatised females in the library. Yet at the end of the day, he did not care. He was just like every other cruel High Lord before him.
With one final snarl, Rhysand withdrew his dark mist that clung to your neck. You gulped in air as the pressure was released, lungs aching for breath by that point. Even still, you chuckled. You must have looked like a mad woman, laughing after the cruel male in front of you had just choked you to the point where you had begun to feel lightheaded. Rhysand turned his back to you, walking back to his original position in the corner of the cell. Despite still being chained, you had gotten under his skin.
But then he stopped, movements pausing as if an idea struck him. Slowly, he turned back around, all anger gone. Instead, it was replaced by a look that made fear coil in your gut instantly. It was a look of pure cunning, an evilness that promised nothing good for you.
“If I cannot get into your head, then I have other ways of bringing forth the symbol of that bond.” His voice was a purr, seductive like a cat luring in its prey. “Unless you want to show me.”
Despite the terror within you, you did your best to hold firm. “No.”
Rhysand chuckled darkly, taking a step towards you once again. “That’s fine. If my theory is correct, then it will appear if you are in danger, will it not? Cassain mentioned a glow coming from the bog water before Nesta emerged, but it wasn’t the mask that emitted it, was it?”
Your heart rose in your throat as you realised what was about to happen. The glint in those violet eyes confirmed it, and tears began to well in your eyes. “Nesta will know” You blurted out. “She’ll come here and kill you for it.”
“Oh I don’t think she will. This cell is so heavily warded it blocks the magic of your bond. It is why I am guessing you haven’t been able to feel her through it. She will know nothing of what I am about to do to you.”
“Please….” You hated begging, but all strength and defiance had left your body as survival instinct finally kicked in. “Don’t do this…”
Rhysand merely chuckled as tendrils of dark mist began to creep towards you. “Scream as loud as you want, (Y/N). Nobody is coming to save you down here.”
You whimpered in fear as the mist began swirling around your limbs, stinging slightly. You flinched as it crept up your half exposed back like the edge of ten blades.
“This is your last chance.” Rhys said lowly. “Show me the symbol of the bond, or I will make it appear.”
You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath to brace yourself. When you didn’t answer, it began.
Searing pain shot up your back as a dark cloud sliced against it like a sword. You gritted your teeth, determined to not scream despite the feeling of blood welling from the cut. Another tendril that had been stroking the inside of your wrist quickly shot up the inside of your arm to the nook of your elbow, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. You opened your eyes, biting your lip so hard even more of your blood spilled from your body. The High Lord was staring at you with no remorse, only coldness as his magic lashed at you like a whip.
The slices continued, and by the time they returned to your raw back, you began screaming.
ERIS POV
Eris nodded as he passed by his servants on his way to Nesta’s room, or rather his room that she had been staying in. Each servant smiled or nodded back respectfully, bringing pride to Eris’ heart. He never would have done this in the main Autumn House. No, he would have kept his chin in the air and not acknowledge the staff. His father had spies everywhere, especially amongst the servants. Eris’ autumn house was the one place where he trusted everyone within its walls.
Admittedly, he was nervous for the dinner he was presently on his way to escort Nesta to. He had done his best to prepare her, coaching her on what to say and how to respond to Beron’s prompts just as he had been taught by his mother during his childhood. She had listened attentively, soaking in every word he said. Deep down, Eris knew she would probably be fine. From what he gathered, Nesta had most likely been groomed by her mother from a young age, learning the art of appealing to the wealthy male courtiers. It was one of the few things human and fae shared, the politics of navigating snobby dinner events just like these.
But Beron was dangerous, and unpredictable. Eris did not fear that the High Lord would throw Nesta in a cell or beat her at the dinner table. No, he would do worse. He would prey on Nesta and use fear to coerce her into doing his bidding, into becoming his own personal weapon he could deploy on a whim. And then once that was done, force her to produce children bearing the Vanserra name that would hopefully carry her magic. Eris had planned a hundred different scenarios for tonight, but it was never truly enough when it came to his father.
As usual, he knocked on Nesta’s door three times, then clasped his hands behind his back as he waited for an invitation to come in. Usually Nesta’s response came within a few seconds, but he heard nothing. Eris’ brow furrowed, and he knocked once more.
“Nesta?” He called. Judging by the sound of pacing, he knew she was in there. At least she had not jumped out the window and attempted to flee.
The footsteps grew louder, and before Eris could call out again the door was pulled open to reveal a worried-looking Nesta. Stress lined her sharp features, grey eyes clouded as if her mind were elsewhere. That honey-brown hair was braided in her usual cornet, not a single strand out of place. She wore a simple red dress with long sleeves and a high neckline – Eris’ choice, a modest one that would appeal to his father but also emphasise her beauty.
Nesta looked absolutely ravishing, but Eris brushed those thoughts aside for a moment. “Nesta, what–”
Before he could finish his sentence, the female grabbed his hand and pulled him into the room, slamming the door behind him. Her hand was ice cold and clammy in a way he hadn’t felt from her before. It was not the same cold as her fire that day in the Hewn City – a powerful, dangerous cold. No, it was the icy cold of fear.
“My lady,” Eris jested, masking his own uneasiness. “If you drag me into a room like this my father will definitely be reassured that we’re trying to conceive–” “Something’s wrong.” Nesta cut him off, letting go of his hand. She continued her pacing, one hand coming to press against her chest as she steadied her breathing.
“Okay,” Eris kept his voice steady and light, despite the worry he felt. “And may I inquire as to what exactly is wrong?”
“I don’t fucking know, Eris!” Nesta practically yelled. The hand that wasn’t pressed to her chest was clenching and unclenching by her side, as if it were grasping for something. A thin layer of sweat coated her forehead, and her breathing was visibly shallow.
Eris had never particularly cared for anyone, but seeing Nesta this anxious made the fire in his bones crackle, begging to be unleashed at whatever enemy was causing this. He could practically hear the song of Nesta’s silver fire, but the Archeron appeared to be too lost in worry to hear it herself.
He resisted the urge to go to Nesta, to grab her arms and stop her pacing before it drove both of them crazy. But he did not want to corner her, make her feel obligated to accept his help in the way he wanted to give it rather than what she wanted. His every instinct protested, but he remained where he was. “Explain why you think this, then.” He said slowly. “Is it about the dinner?”
Nesta shook her head. “No. I just…. I feel so cold it almost stings. There’s this feeling in my gut telling me that something’s wrong I just…. I don’t know what. I’m worried it’s (Y/N).”
“I thought you couldn’t feel her through the bond right now.”
“I can’t, I just… goddammit Eris I don’t know how to explain it but something is happening, okay? I need to…”
Nesta turned towards the door, but Eris was quicker. He stepped aside, blocking her way. “No.” He said, guilt already gnawing at him at the look of betrayal growing in Nesta’s eyes.
“Get out of my way, Eris.” She growled, glaring up at him.
“Nesta, listen to me.” The Prince forced himself to speak calmly, choosing his words carefully. “Is this feeling you’re getting giving you any indication of where she is?”
“No, but–”
“Then there is nothing you can do. I already have spies looking for her, and if they find even a trace of a hint they will let me know. Now, unless you have some grand plan of somehow running out of the Autumn Court without my father being alerted then by all means, let me know and I’ll join you. Even then, where would you go? What would you do to find her?”
Anguish seeped into Nesta’s voice, a desperate wail creeping into her tone. “I don’t know, but I’d try something! I can’t just….” Her voice cracked and broke off, tears welling in her grey eyes. The sight chipped away at Eris’ heart, seeing such a strong female so broken down, but he quickly cupped her face in his hands.
“Do not cry, Nesta.” He said sternly. “As much as we both want to help (Y/N) right now, we cannot do that if my father smites us both into the dust for being late to dinner. He will be able to tell that you have been crying, and we cannot have that. I do not want to tell you not to weep because you are allowed to feel what you feel, but in this court, while my father reigns, we cannot let emotions cloud our judgement. Understood?”
Nesta inhaled slowly, nodding into his hands. Gods, her face was so cold.
“She refused to leave me when I was at my lowest,” Nesta’s voice was barely above a whisper, broken like shards of glass. “And she needs me now, and I’ve left her.”
Eris summoned warmth into his palms to warm her cold cheeks and add some colour to her face. “I know,” He said. “But there is nothing you can do to help her right now other than help yourself. First, we will get through this meeting with my father. One thing at a time, Lady Nesta.”
Without thinking, Eris leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Nesta’s forehead. It was like kissing an ice cube, and for a split second he feared she would rip herself from his grasp and yell at him. But even though she appeared to stiffen in surprise, Nesta did not pull away. He felt her flames sing louder, and his own calling out in response at the contact. Like calling to like, once again.
Eris looked into Nesta’s eyes. “Do not forget you are the woman who stole the power of the cauldron itself. You were brave enough to share your story at a meeting of fae High Lords you didn’t know. You were tossed into a war you had never prepared for and came out with the King of Hybern’s head. You are much stronger than you give yourself credit for, Nesta Archeron. Do not let the shadow of the Night Court take that from you.”
*********************
With his arm linked through hers, Eris led Nesta through the entrance into the dining hall. As they walked through the doors, the remaining traces of Nesta’s stress melted off her like snow from the branches. She did not hold her chin high with her usual confidence, but kept her head level so as not to appear too submissive, but also not too challenging. Beron was a master at playing people, and Eris only hoped that he and Nesta could keep a step ahead of him.
Beron was already seated at the head of the table, a scowl written across his aged face. In the first chair next to him down the long side of the table sat Eris’ mother, her lifeless auburn locks covering her face like a curtain. It prickled Eris’ heart how she did not turn to look at him upon his arrival. There had been a time where her eyes glowed with pride upon seeing Eris, but now those were few and far between. She still visited him, still loved him, but deep down he knew she secretly feared he was too much like Beron.
“You’re late.” Beron’s voice was cold, his eyes devoid of any positive emotions as he glared at his eldest son.
“Apologies, father.” Eris quipped, pulling Nesta’s chair out for her. “I was showing my fiancé the paintings you commissioned in the gallery.”
Beron fixed Eris a stern glare, one that warned him not to make any snide comments. Eris shrugged, taking his seat between his father and Nesta. The role he played with his father was a fine line – on one hand, he dared not challenge the High Lord lest he receive a beating. But on the other hand, he could not appear weak. Beron would expect the occasional snide remark and disrespect, like it was part of a routine. One that kept him above his brothers, for he was the only one who could remotely get away with it. His brothers, on the other hand, would be far worse off than him.
His father’s gaze switched from him to Nesta, watching the female like a hawk as she curtsied before settling into her chair. His gaze was hungry, like a predator sizing up a lump of prey for its next meal. Eris sat next to her, nerves churning. As good as Eris had gotten at predicting his father’s moves and words, this was a new situation to him. Never before had he encountered someone who his father had so desperately desired to have in his court, to control. Nesta Archeron was a new entity, even for Beron. Eris was not stupid – every fae in Prythian who had heard of Nesta wanted to know more about her, how they were fascinated by the tales of the role she played in the war. But Beron would want more, to be able to sink his claws deep into Nesta and break her into pieces and put her back together over and over again until she moulded the image he wanted.
Perhaps Beron and Rhysand aren’t too different after all. Eris sarcastically chuckled to himself mentally as he poured himself a glass of wine.
“High Lord,” Nesta faced Beron and met his gaze, then dipped her head respectfully. “Thank you for graciously having me at your table tonight.”
Eris resisted the urge to smirk at Beron’s surprised blink, apparently caught off guard given that the rumours around Nesta had claimed that she was a witch, snarky and easy to anger. But Eris knew Nesta was smart, and likely needed little instruction on how to handle Beron. She was respectful and used flattery to appeal to his ego, but held herself high enough that she would not be walked over. Her presence was strong compared to the Lady of Autumn’s – it was like she was a ghost in her own home, and despite seeing it every day, it broke Eris’ heart to see her like this.
Beron then turned to Eris, electing to ignore Nesta for now and brush her off. “So, boy,” He said gruffly. “This is the female you are to marry provided she earns my blessing?”
“Correct,” Eris said casually as a timid servant loaded up his plate with food. “I figured it was time for me to settle down after my betrothal to the Morrigan all those centuries ago was ruined.”
“That was not your decision to make, Eris.” His father growled, eyes blazing. Even though Eris had already been punished for proposing to Nesta without his father’s permission, he knew that Beron would never forget it.
But Eris only shrugged, letting his father’s anger wash over him like waves. “But it was a good decision, was it not?” He said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Call it an eye for an eye. The brutes ruined my first marriage arrangement, so I took one of theirs in return. They owed me a debt, so I finally got my Night Court bride after all.”
Beside him, Nesta said nothing. She politely ate the food in front of her, as if she weren’t the object of conversation. Her sharp cheekbones gleamed in the light of the candles around them, casting a fiery glow across her face. To avoid staring, Eris turned his gaze back to his father.
“And yet neither Rhysand was consulted on the matter either, it seems.” Beron pointed out, eyes still fuming. “You made this decision on a whim. Now I need to see if it’s worth it. I have no intention of going to war with the Night Court over a female you thought was pretty enough to be your bride.”
Before Eris could speak, his father turned to Nesta and continued. “So, girl,” He growled. “Why should I let you remain in my house for even one moment longer? I should just send you back to your High Lord in a box and be done with this mess. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.”
Nesta set her utensils down on her plate, lifting her chin and turning her head towards Beron. Eris grew nervous at how firm her gaze was, unsure of how his father would react. She straightened her spine, voice steady as she spoke.
“My lord,” Nesta said. “I apologise for my presence in your Court causing tension. Neither of us wants war, I promise. But I have essentially been a prisoner within the Night Court, confined to one of Rhysand’s houses and being forced to train as a warrior. I have no desire to fight, but I was not allowed to use my magic. I was wasting away, and Eris saw that. He said I have more potential, and I do. My mother raised me to be a courtier, and to find a good marriage and provide my husband with children. It is still my every intention to do that, and I will do whatever you ask of me if it means I have your permission to stay in Autumn. But please, High Lord, do not send me back. I have a powerful gift from the Cauldron, and Rhysand would rather see me six feet underground than allow me to use it.”
Eris wasn’t sure he was breathing as Beron sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity, staring at Nesta. On the one hand, Nesta had admitted a desire to use her magic and become stronger – something that Beron would loathe seeing any female do. But Eris could practically see the wheels turning in his father’s mind as he debated what Nesta could offer him, how he could maybe allow an exception to his misogynistic rules just this once to see what he could get out of it. His interest in the Archeron’s Cauldron-stolen powers was palpable, so Eris spoke up before Beron could think too hard and let his prejudices cloud his judgement.
“The ball at the Hewn City appears to be the first time Nesta’s magic has been used since the war,” He interjected, addressing his father. “It’s why she was out cold for so many days afterwards. I believe it would be in our best interest to let her learn how to use it and–”
“Quiet!” Beron snapped, shooting Eris a glare that would have sent most people scurrying away. “I’ve heard enough from you.”
The room was quiet for another few minutes. Nobody even dared eat, not while Beron clasped his hands together and propped his elbows on the table, staring down Nesta Archeron. To her credit, she did not flinch from his gaze. She met it evenly, a blank expression on her face that the High Lord was so clearly attempting to decipher to exploit a weakness. But Nesta was a statue, cold and frozen, mirroring Beron’s emotionless expression from earlier.
Beron finally spoke after what seemed like an eternity. “Show me.”
Nesta blinked once. “I beg your pardon, my lord?”
“Show me your powers, and I’ll decide if you’re even worth entertaining this marriage.” Beron’s tone left no room for question, as he sat back in his chair expectantly.
Nesta looked at Eris, a flicker of doubt in her eyes. He nodded, giving her the go-ahead for what they discussed earlier. Eris knew his father would want a demonstration, and they had spent over two hours preparing for what she would do when he asked for one.
Pushing her chair out from behind her, Nesta stood up. She smoothed her skirts, stepping a few feet back. Even the Lady of Autumn lifted her head to watch, concern written across her pale face. She glanced at Eris one last time, and took a deep breath while closing her eyes.
“Now.” Beron growled impatiently. “Before I decide you’re definitely not worth it and send you back to Rhysand as a pile of ash.”
A few seconds later, Nesta’s eyes opened. A silver fire glowed within them, illuminating her face. Eris tore his eyes away from her to glance at his father. Beron was leaning forward, watching Nesta like a hawk.
Nesta spread her arms slightly, palms opening to reveal a bright silver flame in each hand. It spread out, streams of it curling up her arms and weaving around her body while others pooled at her skirts.
“Mother above.” Eris’ mother whispered softly.
“Quiet.” Beron snapped at her, and she flinched.
Nesta stood there, glowing as if the moon itself had liquified and turned into flame that now danced around her body. The flames licked the air playfully, as if delighted to be let out. She remained utterly still as the silver fire quickly spread, climbing up the walls around them and engulfing the room. The guards began yelling, but a firm shout from their High Lord to not do anything made them freeze.
Like tidal waves, Nesta’s fire came gushing from her body and flooded the room. Seconds before it hit the table, Beron stood up quickly and summoned a wall of orange flame around the table, shielding himself and his family from the flames.
“Are you seriously telling me to light your dining room on fire?” Nesta had snapped earlier, shocked.
“That is exactly what I am telling you,” Eris had replied. “Very good listening skills.”
“Why the fuck do I have to do that?”
“Because if you appear to control your magic too much, Beron will see it as a threat. He is paranoid, and will immediately think you will use it against him. He has to see it in all its glory, and be threatened by it. Let your magic out however it wants, Nesta. You forget Beron is an extremely powerful male, he will be able to repel your flames for a time. But I want you to push back a bit. Not too much, just enough to let him feel the strength of your power. And then when he begins pushing really hard, let him beat you. He will not want you to stay in his court if he thinks your magic could overpower his own.”
Nesta had rolled her eyes. “So be strong, but not too strong?”
“Precisely,” Eris had smirked at her. “Dealing with my father always involves balancing on a fine line. Now let’s practice.”
As predicted, Nesta’s flames pushed against Beron’s, beginning to engulf them before he pushed back. Her flames grew higher, and Beron’s own matched hers. It was a dance of orange and silver, each one fighting to overpower the other. Eris watched in awe as his father battled Nesta’s, the High Lord’s jaw beginning to clench with effort.
But then Nesta’s flames shallowed, Beron’s immediately smothering them. The tension in his face was replaced by smugness as Nesta’s flames retreated, chased by his own. Black ash marked the floors and walls where Nesta’s fire had utterly scorched it, more and more being revealed as Nesta’s flames vanished. The second they did, Nesta staggered, panting.
Eris rushed out of his chair and wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her steady. The female was trembling slightly, her skin ice cold as Eris led her back to her chair. Beron had sat back down, already having ordered the servants to begin sweeping up the ash.
“Spectacular.” Beron murmured, his eyes ripe with hunger. His gaze did not move from Nesta, sizing her up like a piece of meat. The ambition on his face was undeniable.
“Wonderful, isn’t she?” Eris quipped, passing Nesta a glass of wine. “She gave Rhysand quite a scare with it. It was a truly wonderful scene, father. Pity you weren’t there.”
“Indeed.” Beron’s voice was far away, as if he were already lost in his own scheming thoughts. It made Eris unsettled, how quickly his father was already plotting.
The High Lord took a long sip of wine before speaking again. “You may stay in my court, Nesta Archeron, for the time being. You may train your magic with Eris, and I will reassess your abilities in a month. If you fail to impress me, I will throw you out of my court to the wolves. But if you prove useful, then I shall grant you my eldest son’s hand in marriage. Am I clear?”
Nesta nodded, but stayed silent. She still shook slightly, eyes fluttering at the exhaustion of using so much power. Beron didn’t give her a second glance as he turned to Eris.
“Do not think this is a reward for your brash actions, boy.” He hissed at his son. “If she was anyone else I’d have flayed her alive and hung her on your wall for your stupidity. But she may not be useless after all, and I want her on my side. If she complies, I will see this marriage through and you must breed her within three months of the wedding. Understood?”
Eris swallowed the lump in his throat. “Yes, father.”
Beron stood up. “Good. We are done here. Get out.”
His wife quickly stood up and followed Beron out of the room, head bowed as her dress trailed in the ash. Once they were gone, Eris gently took Nesta’s arm. “Good job,” He murmured, helping her up. “I’m proud of you. Now let’s get you out of here.”
Nesta nodded, as if her ability to speak was trampled by her exhaustion. Noting how limply she hung in his arms, Eris flung her arm around his shoulder and reached down behind her knees. He scooped her up easily, noting how worryingly light she still was. You had mentioned that Nesta had been training, and if this was her having gained muscle and meat on her bones then it sickened him to think of the state of her body before.
He wasn’t lying when he said Nesta had been wasted in the Night Court. It angered him how arrogant Rhysand was to act like he was doing her a favour by forcing her to train. There were many paths in the immortal like that did not require a sword, something Nesta clearly did not want. To force her to do so was cruel, and proved to Eris even further that Rhysand was a complete and utter asshole to the core.
Before they reached the gates leading away from the main castle, Nesta had already fallen asleep in Eris’ arms. Her breath was steady, her soft exhales calming Eris’ racing heart. The dinner had made him more nervous than he’d have cared to admit, but he could not let Nesta see that. She looked so peaceful, her thin body curled into his as she snored quietly. It was a long trek to his grounds from the castle, but he did not mind. Selfishly, he liked having Nesta in his arms. But he felt a twinge of guilt as he recalled how fondly Nesta spoke of you. He was not a blind male, he knew you loved Nesta, and Nesta loved you. There was a part of him that was jealous, for her had grown a soft spot for both you and the eldest Archeron sister.
Eris pondered how he let his life get to this point as he walked through the forest. Marrying Nesta would not be a hardship. She was beautiful, intelligent and strong, which Eris admired very much. But trying her to him would be taking her away from you. He did not know whether you were even alive, but he hoped you were, even though you would likely unintentionally cause complications down the road. Eris could get away with sneaking one female into Autumn, but two? He did not think he would get lucky twice.
But part of him felt the same urges as Nesta, to abandon everything and search for you. Not only because Nesta cared for you, but for some reason he did not want you to be alone out there, wherever you were.
The stars shone overhead as Eris was lost in his thoughts. The details of how you would fit into his arrangement with his father would have to be set aside until he knew for certain where you were. He debated telling Nesta about his research on the bond between you and her, but decided against it. He knew it would be breaking his promise, not telling her immediately what he may have discovered, but he wanted to be certain first. Nesta would punish him for it, but it was a risk worth taking.
Eventually, Eris reached the doors to his house. Nesta remained asleep as he set her down in his bed, pulling the covers over her shivering frame. The room had been heated without fire, making it nice and warm for Nesta’s shivering body. He only hoped that dress was comfortable enough to sleep in.
As Nesta nestled her head into the soft pillow, Eris gently pushed a lock of hair out of her face.
“Sleep tight, Nesta Archeron.” He murmured before leaving the room, letting her sleep in peace.
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106 notes · View notes
yanderes-galore · 6 months
Note
For my second request, may I request Walter Sullivan from Silent hill 4, the room? I’d imagine that he could be a cool Yandere to do. It can either be headcanons or if reader was supposed to be a sacrifice at first before he started his obsession with them. Anyways, thank you again for considering doing this request (it’s my final one this open ask box round since everyone deserves a chance to get their ask in 💙) Thanks again!
-MsPlacedHero
I'm not very familiar with Silent Hill 4 yet I did my research! Hope you enjoy :) Just a warning, I made this darker than my usual stories due to the character. So expect triggering themes mentioned in the TW section. You have been warned!
Yandere! Walter Sullivan Concept
(Silent Hill 4: The Room)
Pairing: Romantic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Delusional behavior, Obsession, Death, Murder, Mentions of religious sacrifice, Clingy behavior, Trauma, Forced affection, Manipulation, Blood, Stalking, Kidnapping, Breaking and entering, Suicide mention, Cults, Rituals, Mutilation, Haunting/Paranormal, Yandere watches and holds you when you sleep, I get creepy with this one because he is a creepy man, I like to write unhinged characters at times, I don't condone any of this like usual, This is to depict horror, Forced relationship.
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When it comes to Walter you can view his obsession as having two different parts.
When he was alive... and when he becomes a ghost.
You most likely first meet Walter when he was alive.
Sometime during his life, before he resorted to the killings, Walter was vulnerable yo kindness.
His view on humanity/society is that they're all cruel in his delusional mind.
So I imagine he'd get attached to you if you tried to help him when he was struggling.
For example, helping him when he was homeless.
Walter hasn't experience much kindness in his life so he easily clings to it, similar to when Eileen gave him her doll as a little girl.
You don't understand why he sobs so much when you try to help him.
Turns out... helping this one homeless man becomes your greatest mistake.
Like you said, Walter may see you as a needed sacrifice to obtain Paradise and see his mother at first.
Once he begins the sacrifices for the ritual he probably begins to stalk you.
Walter would eventually decide not to sacrifice you when his obsession settles in.
He loves your kindness and wants you to direct it towards him.
You may be the one good thing humanity has to offer in his eyes.
So I imagine you'd be spared from his blade... for now.
No, instead your fate may be worse.
You're the obsession of a religious fanatic serial killers who has killed countless victims of all ages for some sort of ritual.
Just because he isn't going to kill you doesn't mean your safe.
Walter most likely has worship yandere characteristics paired with delusional yandere behavior.
He sees you as important to him and feels he should pursue you.
You should witness paradise... you seem like you deserve it.
Walter most likely has no idea how to process romantic attraction.
He hasn't been close enough to anyone to really explore it.
So why does he feel this obsessive need to be closer to you...
Very close....
I imagine there's a pause in his killings where he just... finds you.
He stalks your home, be it a full house or an apartment.
For now he just watches your life.
Soon he gets bolder and tries to get into your home.
Maybe he succeeds before you notice.
Walter does seem like the type to cling to his darling.
He'll watch you as you sleep, maybe even lightly reach out to touch your skin, afraid you may break or something.
He may even be the type to try and hold you in your sleep to add to the horror of this situation.
He's not a good or sane man.
Walter just seems like a yandere with no boundaries, he feels his darling is perfection and that he's blessed to be in your presence.
Even if you're unaware.
As he's already committed murders by this point, this most likely alerts the cops as you call them out of fear.
In fact, your second "formal" encounter with Walter may be right before he's arrested.
Walter maybe decided to get bolder and tried to enter your home when you were awake.
He coos to you through the door and window about how you're meant to be.
You are a key to paradise and he'll reward you for being so nice in a world of corruption!
Meanwhile all you see is the homeless man you helped years ago trying to break into your home.
Safe to say before Walter can get his hands on you he is arrested.
Which leads into the second part of his obsession.
We all know in the original story he dies in jail by his own hands as the 11th victim of 21 sacrifices.
Which due to the cult he is a part of, he continues on as a ghost to finish the ritual.
I imagine as a ghost he'd immediately haunt his darling while searching for his final victims.
You'll notice it through hallucinations and portals to his "dimension".
The entire time Walter's playing with you, telling you in his own way he's still in your life.
Ghostly touches drift over you and you see visions of him.
Safe to say you feel like you're going insane.
Walter still keeps an eye on you while trying to finish the ritual.
He tells you in "dreams" that he'll show you paradise.
When he eventually meets his supposed "mother" he wants you to meet her.
For some reason he feels a strong connection to you and believes this is "love".
However, Walter most likely has never seen people display this type of love.
So he feels forcing himself into your life to gain your attention must be the right way.
Walter is delusional and thinks you must love him too, even as a ghost.
In his eyes... the fear in your eyes is just excitement.
I unfortunately think your fate is the same even if Walter loves you.
Eventually he feels the only way for you to be together is if you join him.
Which means, sadly, your death.
Walter promises he'll be gentle while he does it because he cares.
He says that as a ghost you can be with him in paradise after the ritual is complete.
So please don't struggle much as he carves the numbers into your flesh...
The pain will finish once he has your heart.
Hearts are needed for the ritual.
Yet for a little while Walter finds himself holding yours in his hands with an expression of adoration.
By the time you wake as a ghost, Walter is there to greet you.
He gives you a smile, claiming it was fate to meet you.
He's happy that he can finally show his love for you.
Here is where you belong... right with him.
Normally acts of kindness towards strangers is rewarded...
However you can barely call this a reward, despite what Walter keeps telling you.
Walter, regardless on if he's alive or not, would be obsessive over your touch.
He wants to hold you and just stay there.
Humanity is corrupt to him... yet you're different.
So he must preserve you.
To him, your murder was not only important for the ritual, but to keep you from becoming like the rest.
In his eyes this is mercy, this is a reward for helping him out.
Now... he's helped you too.
Here, when paradise eventually arrives, he'll take you with him.
He can't wait for you to meet Mother.
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presidentbungus · 8 months
Note
um erm uhh idk how much you’ve talked abt demoscout on here but! who do u think caught feelings first and who was the first to do anything abt it. that and or whatever scenario youre thinking abt them in rn (or just brainrotting in general abt). i just want to talk about my sillies
okkkk:) (writes 1000 words)
I def think scout caught feelings first and didn't really figure out that was what was going on for the month or two it took them to become really close friends. as soon as he kind of figured out it was a romantic thing he fell like a rock, but by then they were already like friends and trying to rizz demo up like he does all his other chicks would be too weird.….. thus ensues an awkward few weeks where scout, World's Worst Secret Holder Ever, does a very bad job at "trying" to "hide" his massive fucking thing for demo by getting weird and twitchy around him and occasionally talking about it very loudly to anyone in the immediate vicinity as long as demo's not within his eyeline.
demo catches on basically instantly, of course, and has been nursing his own little (dramatically subtler) thing for scout over the course of their friendship, but gets stuck in a kind of weird spot where he's too worried to bring it up or even just try and push it further for fear of alienating scout, since scout is notably keen on just running away from difficult situations, and demo thinks that maybe they might just be better off separate anyway. he still flirts back, that said, in subtle and unsubtle ways, and it makes him just a little guilty but it’s so cute to watch the way scout glows up red and shrugs it off, and there’s always the hope that he’ll maybe, just maybe, take the hint, though of course he doesn’t trust himself to go further than just hints.
thus begins a strange waiting game where they're both kind of waiting for the other one to make the first move, resorting to awkwardly flirting-but-not-flirting with each other every five seconds as they start spending more and more time with each other until they're basically dating already. everyone on-base wishes they would just shack up already, since they're tired of the sincere lack of resolution in their relationship (and not even the fun kind—it's just a kind of tragic infinite loop of missed chances and the gossip's getting kind of stale), but it's declared code not to interfere with developing relationships since the general emotional environment in a place with as many screws loose as this one tends to be very fragile, and to be honest everyone's also just kind of waiting with bated breath to see who finally takes the initiative, naturally.
and, well, scout can't hold his liquor despite getting absolutely fucking plastered with demo twice a week, and absolutely fucking plastered demo is still more sober than absolutely fucking plastered scout, and something was bound to slip between the cracks eventually. one night a few weeks in scout crawls into demo's lap (altogether not too uncommon of an occurrence) and, through an impressively thick film of snot and tears, starts to tell him everything, and one thing comes to another and they’re making out by the second or third sentence. demo pulls away, feels so extremely guilty about taking advantage of scout when he’s not thinking straight (despite how deeply wasted he is too), and says we gotta stop here, if we wanna get entangled and whatnot we’ll talk about it when you’re sober and I’m only half-drunk and you can understand what you’re getting into.
and it kind of hurts to say that, for sure, when all this time he’s been waiting for scout for so long and scout just had to go ahead and do it when he wasn’t in one piece of mind about anything, and he’s not sure scout’s making the right decision here going with him anyway—it’s a whole big clusterfuck and they shout a few slurred lines at each other over it, too far gone to argue coherently but certainly awake enough to yell, but when they both end up falling asleep not long after it’s still draped across each other, scout stuck to demo’s side like a bloody limpet. when scout wakes up first he doesn’t remember fucking anything but he’s so hungover and demo’s got an arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him in, resting his chin on his head and drooling a puddle into his hair, and he definitely gets the general idea. he nudges him awake and demo opens his eyes and immediately starts spilling into a slightly-tearful explanation, pushing away from scout and almost pleading that he’s sorry, and he let himself go and should’ve given him more space and time and he wasn’t thinking straight then and he’s probably not thinking straight now and it’s so fucking stupid that scout just puts a hand on either shoulder and climbs up and kisses him again, right there, and at least, at the very fucking least, that shuts him up.
followed by a slightly more fruitful makeout session, followed by a long boring conversation where demo desperately tries to discuss boundaries while scout wonders why they can’t just get on with being boyfriend-boyfriend already and regularly chimes in to say that man, if I didn’t want to go out with you, I wouldn’t’ve freakin’ kissed you, cool your ass ya big freakin’ sadsack. and that, at least, feels kind of normal, even if nothing about the rest of the situation is remotely normal.
(and for the record, demo puts up such a fight at first and everything, but once he’s figured out scout’s really fine with it they’re sucking face on the kitchen counter about the second day of proper dating-dating. everyone quickly discovers a bad problem absolutely has the possibility to turn into a worse problem, because arguably watching them stumble through a long list of conversational pick-up landmines was preferable to having to listen to them giggle and make out and get all grabby-grabby on the couch next to you when you’re just trying to watch a goddamn movie)
all this is to say: thfey’re silly. I like tghem
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enid-rhees · 6 months
Note
can I request a Rosita fic where reader & Rosita are dating and rosita starts becoming reckless because of Abraham’s death (basically the s7 timeline if that’s okay) and reader is tired of it and reader & Rosita have a big fight over it, & eventually reader breaks up with her over her recklessness (I will leave rosita’s reaction to the breakup up to you!) and after that reader & Rosita are both miserable because they miss eachother and some of the members of the group notice it, and a couple days go by and reader & rosita make up and get back together? love ur work btw <3
hi anon! tysm for your request, this is so good i loveeee this. hope you enjoy 🫶🏻 and tysm <3 i did not include Abraham and Rosita previously dating, so i hope that is okay!
— warnings: angst, breaking up, arguments, Rosita kinda kills someone, 1 mention of Negan.
— a/n: hope you all enjoy! requests are open! and i MAY starts writing for Ellie Williams soon :) but if you want to request something, read pinned for rules!
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“where did she go?” you shouted at Rick, eyes wide and heart racing with fear. this wasn’t the first time, in fact, it was maybe the tenth.
“the woods, she saw someone. i tried to stop her, but she didn’t even look back.” you stumbled back as your thoughts swarmed your head. auto-pilot took over your body and you ran towards the trees.
“no, no, no.” you whispered under your breath as you ran through the woods, turning your head in every direction to try and find her.
suddenly, a scream echoed throughout the area. you whipped your body around towards the direction it came from and cursed under your breath. you started to run towards the direction where the scream came from.
“Rosita?!” you shouted, and then you heard the sound of a gun cocking. your eyes widened once more, “no- Rosita, wherever the fuck you are, don’t do what you’re about to do.” you yelled at nothing, still looking around all of your sure.
you started to take slow steps towards where you heard the gun, and soon Rosita’s head came into your sight, along with another person. even from where you were standing, you could see the stranger shaking with fear.
you made your way to them, and quickly noticed the dead body right next to the stranger, a clean shot right in their head. a gasp left your lips as you looked up at your girlfriend. although, you weren’t sure if you even recognized her.
“put the gun down.” you said, voice cracking. “they did nothing to you, Rosita! these are innocent fucking people just trying to survive like us!” Rosita didn’t turn to you as she kept the gun pointed at the girl who continued to shake.
you shook your head and pulled the gun out of her hands before she could react. she reached for it but you kept it out of her reach and turned to the girl, “run! go! and don’t come back near here.”
she picked up her bag and ran as quickly as she could. Rosita turned to you, anger flaring in her eyes. “what the hell is wrong with you?” she shouted at you, hands flying up as she talked.
you looked at her with utter disbelief, “what’s wrong with me? what the fuck is wrong with you, Rosita?! what did these people do to you?!” you yelled back.
she stayed silent, so you spoke up again. “killing innocent people is something we don’t fucking do, and you fucking know that!”
“i don’t even recognize you anymore, Rosita.” you said softer, tears filling your eyes. “this- this thing, it isn’t you. you don’t kill people who don’t deserve it.”
a month ago, you watched two of your friends die brutally. it was something that would stick with you forever. Abraham was one of two, and the one who died first. Abraham was Rosita’s closest friend, they had been through everything together. through thick and thin.
his death took a massive toll on Rosita, and she had started to become reckless. someone you couldn’t even recognize. you tried your best to help, but she had resorted to other solutions to mourn.
“listen, what i’m doing has nothing to do with you. my friend is dead and i can never get him back! you don’t fucking understand what that’s like.” she shouted at you.
“i do understand what it’s like, Rosita! i do. but killing people who did nothing to you isn’t going to bring him back. what is it going to fix, Ro? what is the point in all of this?”
you wiped your eyes and looked her in the eyes, “i can’t do this anymore.” you whispered. “i-i tried to help you, i hated seeing you so messed up from what Negan did. i wanted to make you feel better, to help you recover. to stop you from accidentally hurting yourself or getting yourself killed, but you’re just not letting me and i don’t know what to do anymore. i can’t do this. and- and with you killing these people, i just don’t even know what to say or do. i can’t do this, Rosita.”
her eyes softened. “what are you trying to say, Y/N?” she asked hesitantly. you took a deep breath and looked down at the ground, “i can’t be with you, Rosita. i just- i can’t deal with this anymore.”
you hit the gun against your hand and let the ammunition compartment slide out. you poured the bullets into your hand and slid it back into the gun, handing the now empty gun back to her.
“i can’t stop you from this, so there’s no point in trying anymore.” the ache in your heart almost ripped you apart as Rosita stared at you with tear filled eyes. “whatever you do next, i just hope you’re smart about it.” you mumbled to her, and turned around to walk away.
Rosita grabbed onto your hand, stopping you from walking away. “no- please don’t go, Y/N. i need you, please.”
you pulled your hand out of hers, “i’m sorry, Ro.” hesitantly, you pressed your lips to her head before walking away, using all of your strength to not turn back and run right into her arms.
you walked until you saw the Alexandria gate. when it opened back up, Rick was still there, waiting for you. “what happened?” he asked you, walking with you as you didn’t even stop to look at him.
“i broke up with her.” you spit out, feeling the tears prick at your eyes. “she’s still out there. i took the ammo out of her gun, just keep an eye out for her for me, please.”
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you woke up to the empty space in your bed, again. it had been a few days since you broke up with Rosita. you tried to tell yourself that it was the best decision, but part of you just wanted to go back to her.
sitting up from your bed, you walked into the bathroom and squeezed toothpaste onto your slightly damaged toothbrush. you stared into the mirror as you brushed your teeth, unable to avoid the obvious bags under your eyes.
when you were done, you got dressed and left your house, walking over to the church for a community meeting. you were dreading it as always. you walked in and took a seat next to Michonne. her, Rick and Aaron were the only ones in there at the moment.
“hey,” she spoke softly, a smile on her face. “hey.” you said back, giving her a soft smile. “how are you feeling?” she questioned.
“fine.” you responded, looking down at your hands. Michonne sighed, she knew you were lying right to her face. “come on, what’s up, Y/N? you’re clearly not fine.”
you shook your head. “it’s nothing. just tired. didn’t get much sleep last night.” you told her, now crossing your arms over your chest. “you know you don’t have to lie to me.” she told you.
“you miss Rosita.” she commented, and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “she misses you too. won’t even touch her gun.” Michonne said.
“i took the bullets out of it when she shot that girl.” you said back. “she got more. but still, she won’t even touch it.”
you chuckled, “i’m not sure what you want me to say, Michonne. i just… what she’s been doing was too much to handle.”
“you both miss each other like crazy and keeping yourselves apart is just tearing you guys down more and more. i don’t think breaking up was a good idea.”
your eyes stayed glued to the ground as her words sunk into your head. but the church doors opened and more people walked through, taking you out of your thoughts.
then Rosita walked in, she looked just as tired as you. you quickly took your eyes off of her and faced the front. Michonne stood up, “i’m just saying Y/N. it’s your choice whether you want to try again or not.”
not a single word that Aaron, Rick or Michonne spoke in the meeting went through your head. your mind was stuck on Rosita. you wondered if it was a good idea to try again with her, or if you just leave it as it is now.
as everyone stood up and started to leave, you decided it was now or never. so, you stood up and and walked over to Rosita. she looked up at you with surprise, and you choked on your words.
“can we talk?” you asked. she stood frozen for a moment before nodding, “yeah.”
Rick and Michonne were the last to leave, and before they did, Michonne gave you a small encouraging smile. you sat down next to her when it was finally you two alone.
“i…” you started, unsure of what to say. you didn’t really plan that part out, you just wanted to talk with her again. “i regret breaking up with you, Rosita.”
she still sat silent, so you spoke up again. “i care about you more than anything, Ro. you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and seeing you so broken over Abe… i wanted to help you. i couldn’t stand seeing you like that. but… you killing innocent people… i couldn’t get behind that, Ro. i’m sorry.”
“i shouldn’t have done it.” Rosita spoke up. “after you ended things, i thought about it a lot. you’re right, Y/N. our group- we don’t do that. and it’s something we swore by… and i let my emotions get the best of me after what happened.”
tears pricked at your eyes, “i just don’t want to lose you, Rose. you’re my everything. i just want to you to be safe.” she nodded and put a hand on your face, pulling you into her.
your lips connected desperately and you gripped onto her waist and pulled her closer. the kiss went on for several minutes, and eventually the two of you pulled away to breathe.
Rosita leaned her head on yours, eyes stuck on your lips. “i promise i won’t be reckless like that again. i can’t lose you either.” she whispered against your lips.
“i love you.” you whispered. “nothing can change that. ever.” she smiled slightly, “i love you too.”
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dearstarryeyedelf · 4 months
Text
Sun Kissed Blood
Rating: Mature
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandom: Baldur's Gate (Video Games)
Relationship: Astarion/Tav (Baldur's Gate)
Characters: Tav (Baldur's Gate), Original Male Character(s), Briaveth, Astarion (Baldur's Gate)
Additional Tags: Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Confessions, Flirting, Pre-Relationship, Budding Love, Bard Tav (Baldur's Gate), mentions of arousal, obviously no sex but i do subscribe to the vampire feeding is pleasurable narrative MINORS DNI
Read on Ao3 if you prefer here!
Briaveth never expected the best night’s sleep curled up in the dirt, with only the warmth of the fire light for comfort. His muscles ached and his head pounded with a headache he thought would never go away. And unfortunately, he was forced to press on regardless of the pain. The parasite writing in his skull wasn’t going to get up and decide to leave off its own accord. 
But he had to admit, tossing and turning all night wasn’t exactly going to provide for another full day of adventuring. Perhaps he would let a few others go out on his behalf instead…especially if there wasn’t a way to fall back asleep come morning. 
Though, perhaps it was in his best interest to be on high alert. Something looming over his sleeping form jerked him from his half-asleep state. For a split second, he was terrified. Could an enemy have found the clearing where they set up camp? Adrenaline surging, his eyes snapped open.
To his shock, it certainly wasn’t a foe leering above him. It was Astarion - the frightfully pale elf he’d recruited the week prior. 
Briaveth wasn’t completely stupid - he had his suspicions about Astarion for a few days now. And now it was vehemently confirmed as he saw the sharp ends of the elf’s fangs hovering just above his neck. 
He was a vampire. 
Said vampire reeled back quickly, fear momentarily striking across his face. “Shit.” 
Bee bolted upright in his bedroll, ready to chew out Astarion - for lack of a better phrase. 
Although, he did not want to wake up the whole camp - especially seeing as how he needed at least a few of them to be well rested enough to leave him behind the following day.
He settled for the trusty ol’ whisper scream. “What in the hells do you think you’re doin’? You’re a vampire?” He chided, scooting closer on his knees to his would-be assailant. 
Everything made sense now - the pale skin, the boar that had been drained….he almost wished he would have interrogated him about it sooner.
“It’s not what you think!” Astarion was quick to answer. “I wasn’t going to hurt you, honestly. I just…” He trailed off for a moment, fumbling over his words. A resigned sigh escaped his lips before he admitted his intentions fully. “I just needed….well, blood.” 
“You wanted to drain the person who’s tryna help you with that worm in your head?! Really?” Bee spat back at him. 
“No! I don’t.” The pale elf was quick to defend himself. “I’m not some…monster.” The word sounded like the lowest of insults coming from his mouth as he hissed the word. “I normally feed on animals. Boar, deer, kobolds….whatever I can get.” 
Bee straightened up, listening to his companion’s pleas. It felt only fair to hear him out - he wasn’t going to deny that he quite liked Astarion, their personalities cliqued as soon as they began adventuring together. Like he had finally found a friend who understood him. 
The vampire, on the other hand, hadn’t quite noticed that Briaveth had relaxed his expression. It was a survival response, resorting to pleading for what he desperately craved now that he had broken free of his Master’s control. He would go so far as to call it a need, never being allowed the privilege of feeding from thinking creatures before. 
Not that he would admit all of that, but…
“I’m just too weak.” He continued. “It would help immensely, just to have a taste. I could think clearer. Fight better.”
Bee’s ears perked up at that. Fight better, huh? His mind circled back to asking to stay behind at camp tomorrow and recover, a selfish part of him not necessarily caring if a little blood donation would make him feel woozy. It would be an even better excuse to stay behind, as a matter of fact. 
Suddenly, they were both seized by the influence of the parasites wriggling in their brains. Another momentary connection between their minds. Bee caught a hazy glimpse of a rodent’s corpse and the sound of chains rattling in the distance before the connection lapsed. 
Something was certainly revealed to him subconsciously. But he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Whatever it was, he was certainly more open to the idea of Astarion biting him than he had been when he first woke up. 
Once Bee got his bearings back, he looked back up at the vampire before him, consideration wafting across his whole being. “What I don’t understand is…why you didn’t just tell me? Anything would have been better than waking me up in the middle of the damn night.” 
Astarion let loose an empty chuckle at that notion. “Well, the best case scenario is that you’d certainly decline. More likely, you’d immediately ram a stake through my ribs. Forgive me for wanting to gain your trust before asking for your blood.” He suddenly looked a lot more serious as he leaned in carefully. “And I promise, you can trust me. If you’re averse to the idea, I’ll happily go hunting for whatever creatures are lurking out in the forest instead.” 
“Says the man who was hopin’ I wouldn’t wake up.” Bee retorted, a teasing tone to his voice. 
Astarion cocked his head to the side, his eyes widening. Briaveth could see the gears turning quickly in the vampire’s head, searching for a quick explanation. Bee was naturally adept at perceiving the same kind of trickery that he himself employed his whole life. He could read Astarion like a book.
The best he could for the time being, at least. If there was anything he knew to be true, it’s that everyone had secrets they wouldn’t tell just anyone. 
“Don’t worry. I believe you.” He spoke up. “And I’m glad I’m not crazy. I was thinkin’ something had to be a lil’ fishy after findin’ that boar.” 
“Well, since you already seemed to have a hunch…” Astarion continued, now back on track with his initial intentions. “Do you think you can trust me just a little further?”
A cheeky smile danced on Bee’s face, if only for a moment. 
“I just need a taste. I swear.” It was as if Astarion was also trying to convince himself that this was all okay. “You’ll be fine, and have a well-fed vampire at your disposal. A promising asset, surely.” Charm practically dripped from his lips, that honey-sweet tone hard to argue with. 
And Bee wasn’t prepared to.
“Relax. I’ll do it. Gives me the perfect excuse to stay behind tomorrow anyway. I’ll blame it on my uhhhh….achy muscles.” Bee shot the other elf a wink, settling up the deal between them.
Astarion wasn’t honestly expecting anyone to agree quite this easily. “Really?”
Bee wasn’t finished though - of course there were terms. “All you gotta do is promise to use that newfound strength to take out those spiders and grab that chunk of amethyst. Then maybe I can think about giving you that creepy ass book.”
Astarion was almost taken aback at how Bee had taken control of the deal so seamlessly. But he had to admit, it was a win for them both. Not to mention how much more attractive the sun elf had made himself as an ally. 
“It seems we have a deal then.” The vampire concluded, visibly relaxing. He knew that he needed to hold back, despite the fact that he was practically salivating at the idea of drinking proper blood for the first time in his miserable existence as a vampire. 
Hells if he wasn’t exceedingly skilled at hiding it, however. “Let’s make ourselves comfortable, shall we?” It wasn’t difficult to slip back into that sweet-talking facade of seduction. 
“Don’t wanna take me out first?” Briaveth teased, lying back down on his bedroll. He really had a lot more serious questions about what it was actually like - to be bitten by a vampire, though he supposed they would all be answered once it actually happened. 
He could practically hear Astarion rolling his eyes as the vampire crawled atop him, taking the rare opportunity to nuzzle his neck for a moment, taking in his scent before revealing his fangs once more. 
Bee was transfixed on his teeth. The already pointed canines seemed to elongate even more, the sharp ends now dancing upon his skin, teasing. 
“Just relax. This will only hurt for a second.” Astarion whispered softly in his ear before abruptly sinking his teeth into his flesh. 
It was like a shard of ice piercing his skin, the pain coursing through every inch of his body. Just as quickly, however, he could feel pleasure blooming from his core. His blood was surging rapidly through both of their bodies, leaving him lightheaded. 
Bee was unsure of what to expect out of this experience, but he certainly wasn’t expecting his cock to begin to harden. He stifled a moan.
He was beginning to feel woozy, however, noting that he had probably lost enough blood. Though, Astarion had not quite realized just how much he’d drunk. 
Bee nearly couldn’t find the voice amidst the pleasure, but he managed a gruff, “That’s enough.” 
“Mmm? Oh! Of course.” It took a moment for Astarion to register that Bee was speaking to him, but once he did, he was quick to release his grasp, stumbling backward. 
Bee was quick to bring a hand to the wound on his neck, sitting back up. Gazing upon Astarion now, it was almost as if it was a different person before him. 
“That….” Astarion was breathing heavily, wiping the stray drops of blood from his chin. “That was amazing.” He looked more alive, his cheeks tinged pink from the fresh blood. But more importantly, he already looked stronger, almost more imposing. 
Even more alluring, somehow. 
Astarion didn’t realize just how invigorating it would feel either. Discovering it for the first time was wondrous, really. “My mind is finally clear…I feel strong. Happy.” He mused, the first genuine smile Bee had seen from him agleam on his face.
“Lookin’ forward to seein’ you fight. Not that I’ll be with ya tomorrow, but…” Bee silently cursed himself for being so awkward now that he was a quarter drained of blood and trying to ignore the growing arousal between his legs. He hoped to the Gods Astarion didn’t notice. 
“No, no, you stay here and rest, darling.” The vampire replied, that charming tone dripping from his lips once more. 
Bee couldn’t help but swoon as he continued. “I’m sure you’ll have little trouble falling back asleep now. But, if you’ll excuse me…” He segued, with a playful little bow. “You’re invigorating, but I should find something more filling.”  
And with that, he turned on his heels, stalking off confidently into the forest, leaving Bee starving for more of his flowery words. 
“Gods…” Bee muttered to himself, reaching for a healing potion. “Charming lil’ shit. I’m s’posed to be the one doin’ that. Fuck.” He was left muttering to himself incoherently before getting cozy in his bedroll once more, letting the fainted feeling drift him back to sleep. 
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heyyitskeii · 6 months
Text
Waiting for Us - Ver I.N
Hello! It has been a very long time since I’ve written anything, and my first time writing for this fandom. Hope you enjoy :)
English translation for song lyrics are in bold and are from here!
Waiting for Us - Ver I.N
I.N / Reader
Fluff, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Song Fic
Story under the cut:
“Busy” was the only word you or Jeongin could think of to summarize why it has taken so long for both of you to meet again. In the beginning it felt like fun and games, before it started to sink in that maybe it would be a long time before you would see him again.
Days turned into weeks, then weeks turned into months. The weather started to get colder and the sight of couples around you made you feel a bit lonelier than usual. It was weird to have that feeling, considering you and him were just friends.
Just friends, right? That became your mantra every time you felt your heart twist in a certain way.
Even though you hadn’t seen each other for a very long time, Jeongin never failed to message you at least twice a day - once to say good morning, and another to say good night. When his schedule would permit, he’d be able to respond back to you and sometimes would be able to have a short conversation with you.
The last conversation you had with him was both hilarious and heart wrenching - you both were reminiscing about your trainee days because he was filming in the area where you, him, and other trainees would frequently go after classes to unwind. Ironically, the area was only 20 minutes away from your apartment.
Y/N: Oppa, you’re so close but we can’t even see each other! When can we hang out again?
I.N: Let’s hang in there for just one more day.
That one day turned into months… again. You resorted to being happy seeing him on shows, his online content, and listening to his singing. The regret and bitterness of not making it during your trainee days began to sink in even more though, wondering if you wouldn’t be feeling like this if you had made it through and debuted with them.
There was a period when Jeongin had stopped messaging you, but you knew it was because his schedule was probably jam packed. It was close to the holidays and you still hadn’t heard anything from him, so you had messaged him a quick “happy holidays” but never received a response. The last thing you wanted was for him to feel obligated to message you back, so you just left the message as is, and stopped checking ever since.
Fast forward to the new year, and the weather was beginning to warm up. Jeongin did in fact message you several times, but you didn’t respond in fear of bothering him. If the news was anything to go by, you knew how busy he was getting, and his time must have been precious to him.
I.N: Y/N, where are you?
You saw your phone light up on the table when his message came through. You thought for a moment before deciding to finally reply to one of his messages.
Y/N: I’m at home, where I have always been.
The few minutes between your message and his felt like an eternity, but his response had you slightly confused:
I.N: At times, I was afraid. I didn’t think you’d ever come again.
Y/N: Oppa, you’ve been so busy, I didn’t want to bother you!
I.N: You can never bother me. Talking with you helps me to relax from our schedules.
His message made you smile, and a familiar warmth that you hadn’t felt in a while began to fill you again.
Y/N: This winter has felt a bit colder, but I’m glad it will be over soon.
I.N: I wonder if the cold days were difficult. Did you stay warm?
Y/N: As best as I could. It’s not the same, like when we used to share jackets and blankets.
I.N: Haha, I miss that. And you.
You had to read that again, but before you could say anything, Jeongin had messaged again.
I.N: Do you think I don’t know how you felt?
…Busted.
I.N: Knock knock.
His last message confused you, until you had heard physical knocking at your front door. You quickly walked over to open the door, and was surprised to see Jeongin standing in front of you.
It had been so long, and feelings you had tucked away began to surface again. You realized you had really fallen in love with him, never fell out of it, and you were just… waiting for this moment.
You both looked at each other for a moment, as if trying to register that this was really happening. Slowly but surely, his smile grew across his face as his eyes began to twinkle. He offered his hand to you, and it was as if you knew what he was asking. You silently took his hand and responded with a bright smile of your own.
So I’ll tightly hold your hands
No matter what moment comes
I won’t let you go
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