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#n i remember when i listened to it for the first time i was like hhhhhh idk i don't usually like slow songs
nocasdatsgay · 2 days
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A Lesson in Heartbreak
Part 1 of 3: The Night it Fell Apart
Rating: T | Word Count: 2082 | Pairing: Azris/Reader
Summary: Eris and Azriel made promises they didn’t keep. When you confront them about it, Eris says some things he instantly regrets. Now him and Azriel have to fix what they broke.
Neapolitan Bonds Masterlist| Read on A03| Read Below
Warnings: Angst, Eris has a sharp tongue
A/N: @daycourtofficial asked if we would ever see that big fight mentioned in Even High Lords Need a Break and I was like sure why not aka let me channel my upsetti spaghetti emotions into this
Tagging: @hieragalbatorixdottir @mybestfriendmademe
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Your food was cold but not as cold as the empty dining room you sat in. You’d stared at your plate in silence, letting tears fall before wiping them away with your napkin. You couldn’t bring yourself to eat. First due to waiting, then due to nausea from the realization they weren’t coming.
They promised, played in your mind over and over.
It was a betrayal you’d never felt before. The hollowness in your chest was eating away at you. You’d blocked the bond, determined that they would have to come of their own accord. But an hour passed and neither of them showed. After one last wipe of your face, you stood and tossed the napkin onto the table. Anger burned in you for a moment at the utter waste of food in front of you.
You left and found Azriel first.
He was in the upper library, books scattered on the table. The second he looked up at you, his face fell. You didn’t say anything, just stared with anger in your chest and tears falling again. He appeared in front of you, shadows weaving all around you.
“You promised,” was all you could get out.
Azriel fell to his knees, wings flaring out.
“Baby, I’m sorry. I know I promised. I wasn’t paying attention to the time.” Regret etched in his voice and features. “I was just busy-“
“And your shadows didn’t remind you?” Azriel’s silence was deafening. He reached for you but you stepped back. His shadows left you as well. “Where is Eris?”
“His office, but-“ you didn’t listen to what else he said.
You winnowed to the High Lord’s main office door. Without knocking, you threw it open. Eris was hunched over papers himself, fingers stained with ink as they ran through his hair. He didn’t even look at you.
“Eris.” He still didn’t look up. “Eris!”
“What?” He snapped, finally looking at you. He frowned as he studied your face. His tone was softer when he asked, “Why are you crying?”
“You don’t remember?” You were shaking, grief and anger building further.
He cursed, realization washing over him. “Dinner.”
“Yes. Dinner.” You gritted out. “You promised me that you and Az would be there.” Like you promised the past several weeks, you thought but bit it back.
“I know, I know.” He moved papers on his desk around. “But the High Lord meeting is in a week. There are things we have to plan for, it’s taking longer than-“
“You said that last week. And the week before that. Then it was tithe you had to work on. These are just excuses!” You screamed. “Neither of you showed! You promised!”
“Do not raise your voice at me.”
A command, one that had you clenching your fists at your side. He was on his feet, hands planted on his desk and he looked at you like he did his unruly governors. You could see fire in his eyes as he continued.
“I am genuinely sorry that I missed dinner. However, some things are more important than a meal. I’m the High Lord and I have responsibilities. We are hosting this time and we have to make certain everything is in order. You would know this if you bothered to help.”
You went still, even tears streaming down your face seemed to halt. You had heard of Eris’s cruel tongue for centuries. You never dreamed it would be directed at you.
“You told me I didn’t have to,” you whispered, your voice steadier than your body.
“Exactly, so you do not get to complain when Azriel and I are busy,” he snapped back. “You knew what you were getting into when we mated.”
Eris may as well have stabbed you.
“I suppose I did.” You suddenly felt like someone else was talking, with how calm the words came out. “I’m so sorry to bother you.”
You kept the bond shut, winnowing to your rooms. You used your magic to seal the room, barring even Azriel’s shadows. You went straight to the office, pulling out pen and paper while you sniffled and wiped your face with your sleeve. The first letter was rushed and sloppy- a letter to Samira, and sent it with a flick of your wrist. The second you took a deep breath before writing down where you were going. You sealed it with your personal seal and took it to the bedroom, tossing it onto the duvet.
You pulled out a travel bag and threw in clothes, not bothering to make sure they were neat and folded. You had to get out of Autumn before Azriel’s shadows told on you. You had to get out so you could process what happened. With your bag stuffed, you thanked the mother when a letter returned to you. You ripped it open. Samira was in Summer but spoke to Tarquin and granted you permission to travel.
You stuffed the letter into your bag and winnowed. One moment you were in your bedroom, the next you were outside, fae lights gleaming against the tan stone and reflecting off the sea glass doors in front of you. To your right Samira had been waiting for you. She was as beautiful as ever in a seafoam Summer Dress, her skin darker no doubt from the sun and her black hair braided back. She took one look at your face and her gaze softened. Just being in her presence broke you. She wrapped her arms around you and you sobbed.
“Let’s go inside,” she whispered, patting your back. “Cress has a room being made for you. We can get some tea and talk.”
You nodded, wiping your eyes again and followed her into the place.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Az was panicking.
We told you, his shadows hissed. You don’t listen. Our mate is angry.
“Shut up!” He bellowed.
His shadows scattered. He got to his feet, hands shaking. How could he have done this to you? He never made you cry- well, not like this. And his silence when you asked him if his shadows had told him, the betrayal on your face gutted him. Yes, they had told him. He kept saying he would go in a few minutes. He didn’t realize a few minutes turned into a fucking hour.
He went to the table, closing books and stacking papers to put away. You left in a flurry when he told you where Eris was. Az had to find you and apologize. He’d get on his knees again if he had too. Maybe Eris was already apologizing for both of them, considering you implied he didn’t show either. He ran his hands through his hair. After this conference, he wasn’t going to do another damn thing for the next two months. He owed it to you.
Azriel sent the papers to his personal study with magic and took the books over to a trolley. He didn’t notice that his shadows went missing. He made his way down the stairs, mind buzzing with ideas and thoughts. Thoughts of what to say to you to convince you he was sorry. He didn’t make it down the stairs, however. Shadows returned in full force, swarming around him. All of them spoke to him over each other.
Mate. Gone. Blocked. Gone. Letter. Read it. Read it. Read it.
Something fell onto the stair he was standing on. A letter. He picked it up, confusion on his face as he looked it over. It was your seal. One you only used to correspond with other courts. He ripped it open, unfolding the paper inside. He skimmed the first two lines and his heart felt like it stopped. He read it again, thinking he was misunderstanding it.
She locked us out. Gone. Our mate upset her. Shadows hissed.
His breath quickened and his heart raced. He read the letter again fully. He felt like the air was punched out of him. You left. You left. And the words were blurring as his eyes watered. What you wrote didn’t make sense. Then he remembered you went to Eris when you left him.
Sorrow was replaced with rage. Eris had a temper. Always had. He had a sharp tongue as well. He did or said something to make you leave. He had too. Your side of the bond was silent, no doubt to help you slip away unnoticed. Eris however, Azriel sent all his fury to him as he winnowed.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Eris had been staring at the itinerary in front of him for half an hour. Yet if anyone asked him what it said, he wouldn’t be able to answer. He had let his temper get away from him. He swore the day he killed Beron he would never act like him and yet- you came into his office like a summer storm, eyes and cheeks red from crying. He knew instantly he was the cause. And gods was he angry.
He was so angry at himself for forgetting again. For failing you again. But all that came from his mouth was venom he’d used for centuries to protect himself. He was wrong and he knew it. He wanted to tell you but you had shut down the bond. No matter how much he tugged and clawed, he couldn’t get through to you. Eris figured if he waited, the both of you would calm down and he could apologize. He would beg on his knees for you to forgive him.
A moment passed and he suddenly felt rage. Not from you, but from Azriel. In the next moment, the room filled with darkness, only blue siphons lighting the room. Eris was out of his chair but not from his own accord. The chair toppled and Azriel had Eris pressed against the wall.
“What did you do?” Azriel growled.
“Azriel.” Eris could feel his flames wanting to rise. “You better have a good reason-.”
“She left.” Az’s hand punched the wall beside Eris, the blue light pulsing on his siphons.
“What?”
The shadows didn’t let up, darkness still covering the room.
“She left Autumn.” Eris could see the tears now. “She left us!” Before Eris could ask further a note was shoved against his chest. “What the fuck did you do, Eris?”
“Me?” He didn’t even look at the paper yet. “If she told me correctly, you missed dinner as well. And you have less of an excuse than I do.”
Anger flashed in the bond and Eris had to duck to keep Az’s fist from connecting with him. Eris winnowed away to the door, out of the shadows and into the light. Some shadows were crawling on him still, acting agitated. Eris finally looked down at the letter.
I’m going to stay with a friend. Do not look for me. I will not burden you both any longer. I should have known when I mated to a High Lord and his consort, I would never be as important as the court. I was a fool. You’ll never be subjected to my foolishness again.
Eris stumbled, falling back against the door frame. Realization sank in and he read the letter again. You actually left. It was all his fault. His mind said this was ridiculous; it was just dinner. But his heart knew it wasn’t. It was not coming to bed until you’d fallen asleep, rising before you woke. It was the pleading looks you gave when you asked him or Azriel to join you even if for a moment. It was how he hadn’t shown you an ounce of his love for months now.
Then shadows suddenly parted and Eris looked up to see Azriel, wild eyed with siphons still pulsing.
“She’s in Summer,” he came around the desk to Eris, grabbing him by the shirt. “We have to go get her. We have to bring her back.”
“Get a hold of yourself.” It was Eris’s turn to grab Az and flip them around so Az was pinned to the wall, with his wings splayed out. “We cannot just winnow into Summer. Where did they say she went?”
“The palace.” Fresh tears rolled down Az’s face. “She banished the shadows when they found her. She blocked our rooms the same way when she-“
Eris felt the wave of sorrow from Az. He grabbed him and pulled him against him. Eris didn’t like crying but he couldn’t help but blink repeatedly, failing to drive those tears away. He would fix this. He had to.
Part 2
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jeankluv · 2 days
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can you make a light and fluff gojo satoru story wherein you (who is not one to initiate sweet things) break satoru by initiating affection? (kissing, cuddling, confessing, praising, etc.) would love to see the usually flirty and "oh so great" gojo satoru flustered, speechless and a blushing mess, hehehe. lovesick satoru is the best satoru!!!! thank you! ♥️
I love when Satoru is flustered, a mess, nervous with their partners. Birdie Satoru also being like this in the upcomings chapters 😏
But here you have this small one shot, enjoy 🫶
You always make me nervous- Gojo Satoru
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Words: 1.5k
Summary: You always struggle with giving the first step and afraid of your boyfriend getting tired of you, you decide to change that. What you didn’t expect was to see a new aspect of Gojo Satoru in the process.
Tags: gn!reader, no use of y/n, pet names (love, honey, baby), fluff, comfort, just fluff, Gojo Satoru being a complete mess
Jujutsu Kaisen materialist
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You had never been the type of person to show affection to others, it had always been something you had struggled with and you had tried to work on for years, but you still struggled. In fact, your last partner broke up with you for that same reason, you were not loving enough, affectionate, etc. Now with your new partner you had tried to change that but it was still difficult for you and it was always him, the one who took the first step, the one who kissed you first, the one who told you I love you first.
Satoru was the opposite of you, he was affectionate with everyone, he was not ashamed to show his affection for others and he was not ashamed to show how much he loved you when you were with his friends, although you often died of embarrassment when he filled your face with kisses, but at the same you felt how loved you were by him.
And you wanted to return that, you wanted also to show him all the love you were shy to show, to make him blush and nervous. So that day you were going to do it.
You looked in the mirror of your apartment. You and Satoru were going to meet for lunch that day and spend the rest of the day together, it was normal for the both of you to go out like this, having regular dates and spending quality time with each other.
“You can do it.” You whispered to yourself touching the necklace Satoru gave you last Christmas.
It was a rose golden necklace with an ‘S’ on it. When he gave it to you, there was a note with it that said:
“I want to wear his initial
On a chain 'round my neck, chain 'round my neck
Not because he owns me
But 'cause he really knows me”
You immediately recognized those lyrics and what song they belonged to. Satoru was the type to listen to the things you said and pick up on the little details. And the thing is, shortly after starting to date, on a trip where he took you in his car, that song started playing and you, without further ado, mentioned how much you loved the lyrics and what it meant. And that same Christmas he surprised you with that precious gift.
You kept hitting your head every time you remembered how you had reacted when you opened the box and read the note. Inside you were elated, your inner self was doing somersaults and wanted to cry but your outer self couldn't express itself. That's why you wanted to change, even though Satoru told you and repeated that he knew you had a hard time expressing yourself, but that he still loved you.
The doorbell to your apartment rang, breaking you out of your thoughts. You took a breath and smiled looking at yourself in the mirror, today you would do it, you would take the initiative. You grabbed your bag and went down to the street, where Satoru was waiting for you in a black coat, a turtleneck, and his usual dark glasses.
When you left the portal, you noticed that he still hadn't seen you so you sighed and touched your necklace again, reassuring yourself. You walked up to him and gently touched his arm. Satoru turned to face him smiling.
“You look so…”
“You look so handsome today Satoru!” You cut him, leaving him speechless.
“Oh, thank you honey, you too.” You could tell he was still processing your words.
“Let’s go.” And it was you who held his hand first and started walking.
“Honey…” You hummed. “Nothing. Yeah let’s go, I have a new restaurant we should try.”
You nodded and walked side to side. Your hands were sweating and your heart was beating loudly, you hoped Satoru wouldn’t notice any of it.
As you head to the restaurant, your head was racing fast, thinking about ways to show him love and appreciation. So you let go of his hand and clung to his arm, causing Satoru to look at you confused at your act. You just smiled at him and acted like he was the most natural thing in the world for you. But the truth was that you were screaming inside.
When you arrived at the restaurant, Satoru let you enter first and you both sat at a table next to the window. You ordered your food and waited for it to arrive.
“Honey…” Satoru called you out with the usual nickname.
A nickname that used to make you blush so much but with time you get used to it.
“Yes?” You smiled.
“You are okay?” You nodded. “Alright.” He held your hand.
“Don’t worry love, I’m okay.”
You did it! You called him love. And he was blushing. The image of Satoru blushing was one that you had wanted to see for a long time and you had finally gotten to see it and all with a simple loving nickname. The words had come out shakily from within you but once said you had felt how you floated and relaxed completely.
“Wow!” He laughed and swallowed, putting a hand on his mouth. “You just called me love?” You nodded. “That’s… that’s great, good, yeah good.” He nervously nodded.
So Satoru was capable of getting nervous that way, you made him nervous that way. You smiled to yourself as you realized this. Since you had met Satoru you had never seen him falter or blush, he had always been the bold and confident guy, and he was the one who made you nervous and made you blush.
The food arrived and while you ate Satoru told you about his day and you told him about yours. You both worked so you always looked for moments to be alone.
“What do you want to do now?” Satoru asked.
“What if… we go for a walk?” You suggested with a smile drawing across your face.
Satoru nodded and before he could make any movement you held his hand. You both left the restaurant again holding hands, you walked for a while to a nearby park. You wanted to take the next steps, you wanted to initiate a kiss and be the one who said more nice words to him that would make him blush and get nervous. When you arrived at the park you sat on a bench near the small lake where some ducks lived. You were silent, but it wasn't an awkward silence, it was comforting and pleasant.
“Satoru…” You called him after a few minutes, he hummed in response, turning his face to look at you.
As you ran your hands up your legs, trying to remove the sweat that had accumulated, a nervous energy ran through you. With trembling fingers, you gently cupped Satoru's face, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch. Closing their eyes, they leaned in slowly, bringing their faces together until their lips met in a tentative kiss.
Your heart raced with anticipation and you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks as the connection deepened. Every touch, every sensation, felt electric and sent shivers down your spine.
When you finally pulled away, eyes still closed, you prepared yourself for his response, your heart pounding with anticipation. The trembling of your hands mirrored the fluttering of your chest, a silent recognition of the vulnerability you had just accepted. Little by little you began to open your eyes, finding Satoru's face looking at you.
“You just…” He began but soon enough he covered his face with both of his hands.
“Satoru?” You tilted your head confused.
He looked at you for a second and then smiled, placing his hand on his mouth to hide it. “Oh…you really.” He laughed subtly and you could see his dimples forming at the sides of his smile. “You are amazing, you know that?” He whispered, bringing his face closer to yours.
“Did I make you nervous?” You half smiled.
“Honey… You always make me nervous.” He caressed your face. “When I see you, I feel so pathetic and nervous.”
“But I never show you…”
“Hey!” He cut you off. “Don’t say what you are about to say.” He furrowed his eyebrows. “I love you for who you are and I know you love me, that’s all I care about.”
You watched as he left a kiss on your cheek. “Still, I want to change that. I want to be able to show how much you mean to me and how much I love you. I want to be able to express those feeling and to be able to… you know be more affectionate.”
“I know, baby. But just know you don’t have to push yourself forward to do things you don’t want, alright?” You nodded. “That’s my baby. Now do that again.”
“Do what?” You tilted your head.
“Kiss me first.” He smiled.
You kissed him again, feeling how this time Satoru continued the kiss. You blushed a little bit and your heart skipped on your chest, but it was okay. It was really great.
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gavisfanta · 20 hours
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TIKTOK - GAVI
summary: you and Gavi do a tiktok trend together
warnings: noneeee
"Okay, so we're gonna ask questions about ourselves and if the other person gets it wrong, were allowed to dip their head into water. Are you ready" You looked away from your phone and then at Gavi.
"Yeah, but you know that I can't remember things very well." Gavi joked and then sat down infront of the bowl filled with water.
"Yeah, you tell yourself that." You put your hand on the back of Gavis head and played with his hair a bit.
"What's my favourite city in the whole world?" You asked and Gavi began to smile while he looked at the camera.
"Barcelona?" He questioned while he looked at you.
You began to smile and let go of his head. "I'll let that count." Gavi looked at you confused and held his hands up into the air.
"What do you mean? Is it not Barcelona?" He asked and you smiled.
"Rome and Barcelona." Gavi's mouth opened slightly as he remembered.
"Righttt we went there for your birthday!" He put his right hand to his head while you two swapped places.
You were now facing the bowl filled with water and Gavi had his hand on the back of your head.
"When did I debut for the first team?" Gavi asked, he thought that you would never get this right. However the smile that spread across your lips made him a bit nervous.
"29th of August 2021."
"how did you know that?" His jaw dropped while you two swapped again.
"I was literally there to experience it, you think I forgot when my boyfriend debuted?" You grinned and slowly a smile made it's way to his face too.
"Yeah okay, fair." 
"So" You began as you two swapped seats again. "What would I name my daughter if I had one?"  You asked and Gavi immediately began to smile.
"Gavi junior." He laughed. "Okay I'm kidding, I'm kidding" He held his hands up to defend himself as he felt your hand push his head a bit closer to the water. "Estrella" He smiled as soon as he heard you sigh.
"Estrella sounds like a good name no?" You asked him as you swapped seats again.
"Yeah, Estrella sounds like a good name for our daughter." Gavi smiled at you and you looked at the camera. Your cheeks colored in a light pinkish tone.
Then as your head was above the water, you smiled while listening to Gavi. "If I had been a girl, what would have been my name?" Gavi asked with a sly smile.
"Your parents hoped you'd be a boy so they never thought about a girl name." You hekd your breath, ready to be dunked but nothing happened.
"Joder you really do listen to me when I talk." Gavi laughed and you nodded your head.
"Yeah, you should maybe listen to me too sometime." You shot back as Gavi's eyes widened and he sat down infront of the bowl.
"I do listen to you?" He said in his defence. You crossed your arms as your eyes widened even more than before.
"Yeah, what's my favourite color?" You asked and immediately dunked his head into the water.
"Hey I know it's red!?" Gavi asked as he pushed his dripping hair out of his face.
"It's purple!" You answered loudly and sat down on the chair as soon as he stood up.
"Okay, sorry." He smiled a bit. You shook your head and turned to look at your phone.
"Okay guys thank you for tuning in and see you next time." You waved at the camera and saw that Gavi was waving too.
After you ended the video you turned on the chair to look at him.
"Y/n, Estrella and Gavi. Hm?" He hummed as he leaned down and pecked your lips.
"Not yet, we're too young." You told him and he just smiled.
"Not yet, I know, but someday, we'll have our own little family." He put his hand on the back of your head as he said that. "You're gonna stay at home and care for the kids while I am at practice and every weekend you'd take them to Camp Nou, and whenever I score a goal, I'll run up to you and kiss you." Gavi smiled as he imagined how his perfect future was supposed to look like.
"Sounds like I'll be fine then." You smiled and he leaned down to peck your lips again.
"You'll be more than just fine Amor."
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Retribution (The Kidxf!Reader) - Monkey Man
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A/N: I said I was writing it and it has been done lol If you haven’t watched this film yet, please do! I indulged and wrote a small fic about it lol (Don't mind the abyssmal pacing of this, I barely edited and added anything) I hope you all enjoy it and can someone please indulge me more by writing more fics about this man!? Dev Patel absolutely killed it! Put him in a rom-com! I tried to write the hijra with as much care as possible. Please let me know if there’s something I can be more educated on in terms of this!
Synopsis: A mysterious man arrives at the temple you call home and makes quite an impression.
Warnings/ Tags: Angst. Fluff. Allusions to sex work. Descriptions of violence and blood. Coarse language. Kissing.
Word Count: 3.2K
Masterlist
The cheers of those around you interrupt the hanging of your laundry.
Peeking through the shoulders and the shadows, you sneak a glance at the subject of commotion, and it doesn’t surprise you.
The way he moves is equal parts graceful and aggressive. His punches are meticulously messy, a choreographed war drum thrumming to the beat of his own heart. This man is far removed from who you remember gazing upon a few days ago. His eyes were lost, sunken, like a child looking for guidance or divine judgement for all that’s led him to this point.
This was not that man.
This man was vengeance personified.
And through him, you felt hope.
You knew nothing about him. Alpha was able to garner all of your help, quietly and quickly instructing to pull the man out of the river. You were there when they cauterized his wounds. His screams were pure agony, making you cringe, and somehow you felt that his pain went deeper than physicality.
He walked like a ghost when he first came, aimlessly walking, like trying to just bump into something that would give him an answer.
Now, it seems he walks with purpose.
He throws his last punch and receives a mighty applause. The crowd recognizes the show’s over for the time being and they disperse as he keeps heaving, staring at the bag like he wants to hit it more. Like he never wants to stop.
You pick up a basket and walk over to him. Whether to strike up a proper conversation or feeling annoyed at the dirtied shirt on the ground you had just washed, you don’t exactly know. But something about him is magnetic, pulling you in, just like the first time you saw him that night, all bloody and bruised.
You nod at his white shirt. “I’ll take that.”
He breaks from his spell and turns to look at you.
His heaving slows, his breaths getting deeper by the second. For what you think is a few minutes, he just stares are you, and you at him, both of you taking each other in. You realize his physique really is something to awe over, but more importantly, that his eyes are far gentler than what you thought possible.
You tilt your head. “The shirt?”
He bends and picks up the white cloth, simply extending it to you as he continues to stare. You gesture for him to drop it into the basket. With an amused scoff, you start to turn away. “I’d appreciate it if you hung the next shirt you tore off on a wall.”
“Your name?”
His voice surprises you. You’ve only heard him speak a few times before. He sounds rough, and scratchy, like he doesn’t use his voice often.
You introduce yourself and after a few moments, he repeats your name back to you. Slowly, quietly, as if he’s scared of offending you in any way. Listening to it fall from his lips is like listening to dripping honey and you’d be lying to yourself if you said it didn’t make heat crawl up your neck.
To save face, you again start to walk away from him. “Widen your stance.” You advise, not waiting to hear a reply.
- - - - - - - - - - -
Several days pass until you have another full conversation.
You’re caught up with mundane chores. He’s caught up with punching that bag and doing god knows what else when he’s not at the temple.
Though there was that one time you almost slip and he catches you effortlessly by the waist and it definitely made your stomach flutter.
You smile the first time you depart to wash laundry and see his shirt hanging over a nearby wall.
He’s getting better. His posture looks strong, immovable. Sometimes you think with all that’s happened to him, that he must be invincible. Surely, no one can lose that much blood and still maintain their sanity.
But then you see his movements wain by the end of his exercise and it’s like something powerful overcomes him as he loses all finesse and he punches that rice-filled bag for all its worth with no rhyme or reason. You sense his frustration as he suddenly stops and puts his hand on his hips, breathing erratically.
You approach him cautiously. Pulling out a bottle of water from your laundry basket, you offer it to him. “Consider taking a break?”
He’s slow to take the bottle from you but he does so anyway. After almost draining the whole thing, he splashes the rest of the water over his head. Only as he shakes the droplets off his curly locks does he try to return it to you.
“An actual break.” You reiterate, stuffing the bottle of water back into your basket. “Your drummer needs one too. He might have built up his callouses, but he should eat something.”
The man turns to look where your eyes are directed and though you don’t have a clear view of his face, you can tell from the way that his eyebrows ease that he feels a sense of guilt. The drummer simply raises his palm and stands. “Take some time to clear your head, I’ll be here whenever you have.” He leaves the courtyard until it’s just the two of you left.
The weather is oddly cool today. There’s smoke and a mugginess that’s expected from being close to the heart of the city, but if you were to look around, it’d almost seem like you were transported decades into the past. The temple acts like a sanctuary, shielding you all from the outside world’s noise and it does a good job.
You walk towards a small wooden bench off to the far side and take a seat. You set your basket down and pat the space next to you. “Come,” You beckon “I’d appreciate some company while I fold all of these white shirts I’ve had to add to my load.”’
Something like embarrassment flashes on his face as he follows your command and sits right next to you. His posture is stiff like he wants to make an impression. It’s obvious your newfound companion doesn’t like to talk, or more accurately, isn’t very good at starting small conversation.
“I’m sorry for the bother.”
He has a tone of bashfulness, unable to turn in your direction. Your smile widens as you continue to fold “I didn’t say it was bothersome.” You refute. “In fact, I’d rather say I don’t mind you taking your shirt off.”
You try to make direct eye contact then, but he swallows thickly and doesn’t meet your eyes. It makes you giggle, but you decide to pull back on the joke, not wanting him to take offence or cause him more uneasiness. “Besides, each shirt is a testament to how much work you’ve put into bettering your skills here.”
That gets him to scoff and drop his head in disbelief “I’m still not where I need to be.”
“No,” you reply earnestly “but you will be.”
This earns you another bout of silence.
 For a while, you both just enjoy each other’s quiet company. He stares blankly ahead and you give him the time to examine whatever it is he’s battling through in his own thoughts.
Eventually, he sighs and inclines his head towards the sky. “How long have you lived here?”
“Ever since I could remember.”  You answer honestly. “Alpha says they opened the door and there I was, miraculously alive, left laying on a dirty blanket.”
“You’ve been here ever since?” He carefully asks.
“I’ve never lived anywhere else if that’s what you’re asking.” You pass an unfolded shirt to him and to your surprise he starts to fold it with no question. Bitter memories start to glaze your view. “And for someone as uneducated as me, there’s only a few jobs out there that I’d be considered for as a woman.”
A knowing silence passes through you both at the statement. Yatana was unforgiving. A real dog-eat-dog society with no time or need for those who couldn’t stomach it or keep up. Truth be told, most of the time you couldn’t. Very often would a prostitute or child be pounding on your doors for help or asylum. Hungry, beaten, thrown away like a speck of dust not worth anyone’s time.
“Doesn’t it make you angry?”
You’re unphased by the question. “Of course it does.”
And you mean it. There are days when you scream at the sky or dunk your head slightly longer underwater to try and get away from it all, try to release it in some way.
Eyes still trained to the sky; he confesses “Because that’s all I feel. Anger and pain, and I can’t-“ he struggles to finish his words. “I can’t-‘
“I know.”
That makes him look back down and finally turn in your direction. He patiently expects you to explain.
 You swallow thickly but continue to talk anyway. “To feel helpless, like you can’t do anything no matter how hard you try.” Gritting your teeth, you realize your hands have stopped folding. “But it doesn’t matter, because there are people who need me more strongly than the pain I feel.”
He considers your words thoughtfully and waits for you to speak once more. “Amidst all this chaos, this temple stands. People need me here. Children, mothers, the beautiful hijra who gave me a home, and when they leave this place with the tiniest glimpse of hope on their faces, then I know I’ve done my job. I don’t fight as well as the hijra here, I don’t expect to get much better, but I want them to know that they have refuge with me.”
You pass him an unfolded sari and for the rest of the time you are sitting together, you both fold quietly, basking in the sun and each other’s presence.
He continues to train harder after that. Each step is quick, each punch as sharp as a bullet. When he isn’t training, he’s watching. The news, the protests, the speeches, like he’s reassuring himself, learning the best way to approach.
 It’s obvious everyone here, including you is taken with this stranger. Though, you don’t really know if you could even call him that anymore.
It’s like he seeks you out. It doesn’t matter if it’s simply sitting together for dinner or him deliberately waiting for you to walk through the courtyard with your basket under your arm. Both of your eyes are trained on each other with an eager sheen.
Maybe it’s fear or maybe it's an understanding that your pairing would most likely never work out in the end. Either way, whatever it is, it disappoints you because you so badly want to believe he wants you the same way.
The mood becomes slightly flirtatious and you catch sight of a boyish grin here or there, especially when he’s surrounded by the hijra.
But anytime you think he might ask you something, or just when you’re on the cusp of telling him your interest, something stops you in your tracks, holding you back.
A recollection plays in your head of last night.
It’s just him and the drummer again today. You wait near a dark window before you pass so as to not to disturb his concentration.
He has a beat to the way he fights, a brutal rhythm, and it astounds you every time you watch him. If this is how he looks punching a bag, you wonder how he’d look fighting against others. You find the thought oddly attractive, and it makes you flush.
For all his skill in the ring, it seems that’s where all his artistry in footwork stops. Surrounded by laughing and beaming faces, with the sound of softer drumming in the air, everyone takes a turn dancing. No one cared about how sloppy anyone was. You sure weren’t the best dancer amongst the hijras, but this seemed unsubstantial when you were all drunk on each other’s company.
The children present that evening and you form a small circle. You’re swinging your arms around when you notice your mystery man with a smile of his own. It knocks the air out of your lungs. It’s one that gives him crinkles around his eyes and all at once he doesn’t look like a hardened killer, but someone you’d see on a billboard or a magazine cover.
You crook your finger at him, inviting him into your little dance number. He tries to politely decline, his once beaming face turning something sheepish, but Alpha bumps him shoulder to shoulder, and soon the rest of them urge and tease him to dance along. When he gets to the center begrudgingly, it’s already too late for him to back out. Two children start to pull him until he lands directly opposite of you.
The circle of your intertwined hands spins, it twirls here and there, and when you all raise your hands to shrink the circle, you land face-to-face with the most fascinating man you’ve ever seen. It lasts all of five seconds, but everything around you dims as you look at this man’s face illuminated by firelight.
His eyes are his most emotive feature and they always seem to twinkle. Right then, they almost looked like jewels from the way they glossed over.
You pick up on the way those eyes slowly dipped down towards your lips and suddenly you wonder if he’s thinking about the same things you are. If he really does want you the same way you do.
But before you can tumble into that path of thought, cheers and hoots pull you out of the little bubble of enchantment you’d created. You turn to reject the idea of it all, but when you glance back at the man in front of you, your breath catches.
He continues to stare intently at your visage, not minding or caring about the extra attention one bit.
And then a scream erupts in your ears.
Seeing him punch the bag until rice grains stick to his chest reminds you of what he’s capable of.
When he shares a nod with the drummer, you know that he’s finally achieved what he came here at the temple to do.
Dropping your basket, you immediately rush indoors, following the cries of the hijra around you. Lakshmi lays in the center of the temple room floor, blood dripping from them like a fountain. You crouch and gently put their head on your knees as the weeps continue all around you.
They explain that they put a notice on the door, Shakti’s men, and all you can see is an unbridled tint of red starting to form. Your heart is pounding, Lakshmi is struggling to fight for air, and in front of this statue, an indescribable wave of pain crashes into you.
It’s loud, far too loud. With your thoughts, the cries, the blood staining your shirt.
Your one hand on the floor clenches into a fist. You try to remind yourself that you can be better, that there must be something more to all of this than just pray, than to just keep taking what they serve like impotent little ants. The hopelessness starts to creep in, slowly etching itself into your thoughts.
But before it can take hold, you distinguish a face in the shadows. It’s observing as everything around you starts to crumble and in that moment you try to push all that anger onto him as you directly glare into his soul.
And when you see him break open the donation box much later during the humid night, you know you’ve put your faith into the right person.
He tries to leave as silently as he came, but you meet him at the entrance. He holds a crude, dirty children’s bag and you can only assume that’s where he’s keeping the money.
He tries to explain, but you start to approach him which stops his needless rambling. In an act of boldness, you grab his hand in yours and flip it to look clearly at his scars. If he’s uncomfortable, he doesn’t show it. He doesn’t even flinch.
“Alpha was right.” You agree. “You do have the hands of a warrior”
You enclose his hand between yours, putting it up against your lips. “I wonder how such gentle hands fight with such ferocity.”
He starts to twitch and as you loosen your grip, expecting him to pull back, he instead cups the side of your face and despite his scarred calloused hands, his touch is pure velvet. His thumb brushes the tears you didn’t notice were starting to fall freely down your cheek.
Please, you pray. Whatever it takes.
“Fight for me.” You croak thickly. “Fight for all of us.”
He clenches his jaw. “I promise you.”
You pull him towards you by grasping his neck and your lips meet in the middle. The kiss is like him. Equal parts sweet as it is harsh. His lips were warm and soft, but the urgency in the way you both kissed each other was anything but. You bury your hand into his hair and feel his curls unmake themselves even further. His smell of soap and sage infiltrates your senses.
It was a dizzying feeling. It’s what you felt while you were dancing exploded ten-fold. It was the culmination of tension and grief exploding into something technicolour. As your noses bump against each other, you think you want to draw more of this kindness from this man.
Your breathing quickens and he groans into your mouth. It’s almost like you two are fighting. With each other, against each other, for each other. Exploring this hungry need has only made you more insatiable.  
And that becomes particularly dangerous, especially when you know he has a job to do.
Reluctantly you pull back. His eyes stay closed and you press your foreheads together, listening to the crackles of the torches around you. “Your emotions are strong.” You quietly whisper. “But do not let them control you. Let them guide you.”
He blinks his eyes open, full of clarity.
Letting each other go hesitantly, you take one last look at him and he at you. “Come back to me,” you say with all the confidence you can muster.
You can tell you’re both skeptical about your claim, but he nods his head anyway. He walks around you and you don’t turn to look at him leave for fear of wanting to hold him back. You hear the creak of the door, but before he can take another step away from you, you mumble “Give them Hell.”
There’s a slight pause before you start to hear the crunching of the ground beneath him, each step lighter than the last until you can no longer hear him creeping into the night.
Please, you pray. Whatever it takes.
- - - - - -
When you see the money-filled bag hanging on the statue the next day, it’s attached with a note.
His presence overflows through your every pore.
Alpha looks at you with a determined expression on their face, as do the other hijra around them.
It seems they don’t just want repayment, they want a reckoning.
They want retribution.
- - - - - -
A/N: Please let me know what you think by leaving a note, comment, or reblog! Or we can just geek out about Monkey Man lol I definitely won’t be opposed to that lol
123 notes · View notes
majesty-madness · 2 days
Text
Back Then - Husband!Sebastian Sallow x Wife!reader (sfw)
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Summary: As the first week of marriage comes to a close inside they’re new home, Y/N can’t help but to think back on the old days. 
Word Count: 1300+
Warnings: slight angst, kissing, newly married Sebastian & reader, mostly fluff, a bit of suggestive content (like one joke, and the ending)
a/n: Not proofread. Fucking love this game (perhaps a bit too much).
Main Masterlist
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It’s night out, Y/N stands in the lamp lighted bedroom, staring out the window overlooking the front garden. She can hear the crickets chirping outside and the fireflies are in full bloom in the darkened night. She’s already dressed herself in her white nightgown, the material soft on her skin. 
Though she stood in the house she shared with her husband, her mind wandered back in time when she met him for the very first time. It had been in Defense Against the Dark Arts Class, learning to duel with an opponent, and the words “Time for a proper Hogwarts welcome” caused a soft chuckle to slip past her lips. 
Even though he sounded overconfident, his words made her giddy with excitement and then she’d won. She had surprised herself when she managed to pull that off. And when he walked up to her she was expecting a snarky remark or perhaps a nasty comment but he’d said, “You give as good as you get.” He also smirked playfully at her before walking away and she couldn’t deny the way his words caused a flurry of warmth to rush to her cheeks back then. 
As soon as they’d met, she knew she was done for. 
Again a laugh escaped her and without her knowledge her husband had come back to their bedroom, fresh from his bath. Sebastian stared lovingly as he watched his beautiful wife laugh quietly to herself. 
Throwing the towel he just used to dry his hair onto a nearby chair, he silently approached his wife from behind and when he was close enough to gently wrap his arms around her waist she didn’t flinch or jump away, instead she pressed her back against his chest as she melted into his warmth. 
“What are you laughing about?” Sebastian asked, pressing a delicate kiss to the back of her neck. 
She smiled in return, “I was just thinking about the first time we met.” 
Sebastian hummed back at her answer, pressing several other kisses into her skin. “Mmhm, we met in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, we dueled each other, remember?” 
Sebastian scoffed, “How could I forget the moment I met the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen?” 
This caused both of them to laugh at the playful comment before Y/N continued. “I remember you walking up to me, saying ‘Time for a proper Hogwarts welcome,’ very confident of you I must say.” 
“Well I had a reputation to uphold.” Sebastian reasoned. 
This time Y/N scoffed. “Yeah, and as I recall I swept that reputation right from underneath you.” 
“That wouldn’t be the last time I was underneath you.” 
Y/N gasped then slapped him on the arm, causing him to burrow into her neck once more with a laugh. “Don’t be so crude, I was reminiscing about school.”
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, darling.” Sebastian half-heartedly apologized although he meant no such thing. 
There was a pause as the two of them listened to the crickets outside, both taking a deep breath and feeling each other decompress in their exhale. 
“I didn’t realize it then, but that was the start of so many things.” Y/N uttered fondly, oblivious to Sebastian’s sudden frown. 
“The start of so many mistakes.” Sebastian spoke softly, almost repeating Y/N’s exact words.
Only turning her head, Y/N stared up at Sebastian as she observed his expression. “Don't do that to yourself.” 
He couldn’t help but to shake his head. “I can’t help thinking about it all. The desperation, the anger, the betrayal; I wished we had met in different circumstances then perhaps our fifth year together might have been normal.”
“Sebastian…” Y/N huffed, the makings of a smirk spreading across her lips. “I was entering Hogwarts for the first time as a fifth year student who could see traces of an ancient magic, who would complete these trails created by wizards from long ago to see their memories and ended up fighting a goblin turned dragon before the year ended.” 
Sebastian looked down to see his wife smirking. “Regardless of how we met, our fifth year was never going to be normal.” 
Just like that the dark thoughts whirling in were cast away by Y/N’s light hearted humor, and it didn’t hurt that she was absolutely correct. 
He let out a deep root laugh, nuzzling into Y/N’s neck once more and began to gently sway her in his arms. “I suppose you’re right, darling. And I believe that even if my situation hadn’t been what it was, we would’ve met eventually anyhow.” 
Y/N pulled away a bit only to turn to face him while still in his embrace, her arms coming up to wrap around his neck. “Call it fate. Someone had to keep an eye on you.”
“Well I’m glad to have had your company, Mrs. Sallow, even if it was to keep me out of trouble.” 
“To be fair, I didn’t do a very good job at it.” 
Tightening his hold around her back, he pressed Y/N further into his chest. “True. Probably wasn’t the wisest to send the ancient magic prodigy to babysit a no good scoundrel.”
He said it like it was a joke, but the regret quickly filling his eyes didn’t fool Y/N. Her expression fell into that of compassion and without thinking, she brought her hand up to softly caress the underside of his jaw. 
“Hey now..” The words barely a whisper as she spoke. “I love you and despite it all, I’m glad that I met you. I’ve never had any regrets about that so you shouldn’t either.”
“I love you too.” Was all he said then leaned in to plant a tender kiss to Y/N’s lips. First it was the soft, overly gentle kiss that most new couples share in moments of vulnerability but seamlessly turned deeper, passionate. The heat of lust rising within and fanning the flames of love that survived the hardships promised to every living being. 
Their hands began to wander over the familiar plane of their partner, taking note of the thumping heartbeat and the sudden warmth enveloping the skin. They continued this memorized dance for several more seconds, pulling away only when the need to air outweighed the need for the other. A light panting exchanged between the two when Y/N’s eyes had left Sebastian’s for just a moment to stare at the bed. 
“The sheets…” She breathlessly uttered. 
His brow furrowed slightly. “What about them?”
She looked back at him. “They’re new.”
“And?”
Y/N brought her hands to seductively fiddle with the two tops buttons of Sebastain’s nightshirt, only to finally unbutton them completely. “Annnd,” she let the word roll on her tongue for longer than necessary, “I think that it’s time that we break them in, see how they hold up.”
She could almost see the ways his eyes darkened at the promiscuous suggestion though he chuckled despite the heat growing in his groin. “Good idea, darling, it’s best we make good use of the new house. See what we can get away with.”
Sebastian had let his hand drift from her back over the plump flesh of her bottom, giving her rear a small squeeze and suddenly lowering his hands to the back of her thighs to lift her up into the air. Y/N let out a gasp at the motion with a sweet giggle bursting from her throat right after as she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her towards their bed. She gave him a few pecks on lips, continuing to do so even as her back was lowered to the plush material of the mattress. 
For the remainder of the evening, Y/N and Sebastian got lost in each other’s touch; not sure where one ended and the other began. And into the late hours of the night, Y/N couldn’t help reminiscing on how much her life had changed. 
Through all the pain, the battles, the injuries, and broken hearts, Y/N would always be thankful that she met the trouble making fifth year: Sebastian Sallow, a good friend and the love of her life.
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annwrites · 2 days
Text
exactly what he needs, pt. 2 ♡ ⋆。˚ | pt 1 | pt3
— pairing: nate jacobs x fem!reader
— type: ficlet (multi-chapter)
— summary: you & nate hang out in your room (after he snoops through it right in front of you), then ask each other questions, & he dresses & does your hair before you head out to spend the evening together.
— tags: conversing, getting to know one another
— tw: sexualization, lying (nate manipulating the truth), dollification
— word count: 6.2k
— a/n: I edited this numerous times, but fucked myself over by writing part 1 in present-tense to begin with, which I'm not always great at. So, if I messed up the tenses anywhere, please ignore it. Going forward, I'll probably be publishing further installments in past-tense.
Next post will be reader & Nate going shopping & having dinner!
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The next morning when you wake, it only takes a few minutes for you to remember that Nate will be there in a little less than an hour, and the nerves immediately set in.
Surely people will see you getting out of his truck. What will they think?
You shake your head. It doesn't matter. Not really, anyway. You don't much care what any one person of the student population thinks of you.
You know high school is just a blip—a very brief moment in time, where it seems like every little thing you experience can be the end of the world, but it's really all just the beginning.
People will think whatever they like. It's not your job to try and change their minds. Not that trying to do as much would work anyway.
Once you've quickly showered, dressed, pulled your hair into a high ponytail to keep it out of your way, and eaten breakfast, you don't even have time to wait by the door as Nate's truck pulls up. You quickly pull on a pair of boots and step outside, locking the door behind you.
When you look up, your stomach does a flip when you see Nate holding the passenger-side door open for you.
You walk over to him. "You don't have to get my door for me, you know."
He shrugs, taking your backpack from you, setting it in the backseat with his. "I want to."
You tell him thank you as you climb inside and he shuts the door behind you.
Once you're on the road, he's the first to break the silence. "You can listen to whatever you want on the radio."
In truth, it's a bit too early for music for you. "I'm ok."
"Did you eat already?"
You nod. "I had a bowl of cereal."
He gives a slight frown. Not a very healthy start to your day. Something full of sugar.
"Do you want me to pick you up something on the way?"
Your eyes go wide. "Oh, no, I'm fine. Thank you, though. It's nice of you to offer."
He decides tomorrow he's bringing you breakfast, and he won't be asking for permission beforehand.
You're both silent again for a moment and the truck slows as he pulls up to a red light. He briefly wonders if you know how to drive. If not, he'd be a more than willing teacher.
"If you don't mind, I'd like to ask you something personal. If you do, just tell me to fuck off and you don't have to answer."
You look at him. "Ok..."
The light turns green and the truck picks up speed again. "I noticed neither of your parents were home yesterday. Were they both at work?"
You grow quiet for a moment, a pregnant pause settling between the two of you as you look out the window at the passing houses.
"My dad was...is. He travels a lot for work, so he's not home much."
He nods, deeming it good news, at least for him. "And your mom?"
You're quiet for even longer this time. Then, "I've never met her."
Minus Lexi, you've already divulged more to him in that short sentence than you have to anyone else at East Highland.
"I'm sorry to hear that." He's not sure that he means it. He despises both of his parents and, if anything, in this moment, is envious of you, due to your lack of relationship with both of yours.
You shrug. "It's fine."
He wants more than just 'it's fine'. He wants to know more, as it's clear it's something which bothers you. He wants you to give him emotional vulnerability for just a moment. Something he can use in the future to work his way in closer to you.
"Do you know anything about her?"
You shake your head. "My dad refuses to talk about her. After a few fights when I was younger where I tried to get him to, I gave up. It's probably for the best. She made her choice, and I think me knowing anything about her would just make things...more difficult. My life, I mean."
Even if you still felt like you were chasing shadows sometimes.
He nods. If nothing else, it's one less person he'll have to go through to be with you. Two less, from the sound of things.
Finally, he turns into the school parking lot, taking his usual spot and he shuts the truck off.
"I'll get your door for you," he states before getting out.
You unbuckle yourself, not sure what to think of his insistence with the whole door thing. It just doesn't seem to be something men much concern themselves with anymore—getting a girl's door for her—at least not teenage boys, that is. But perhaps he's different. Maybe it's just the way he was raised.
Nate opens your door and grabs his backpack, sliding it over his shoulders, then grabbing yours as well.
You get out and go to take it from him, but he continues holding it.
"Turn around."
Your brows furrow for a moment, but do as he's asked. You quickly realize what he's doing and adjust your arms as he slides your bag onto your back. He's really going the extra mile to be a gentleman, you think.
Once the truck's doors are closed and he's locked the vehicle, he places his hand against the small of your back as you walk into school together.
You look perfectly calm on the outside, but on the inside, your anxiety levels are rising with each pair of eyes turning your and Nate's way.
When you spot Lexi, the look on her face is nothing short of bewildered. Next to her sits Cassie, who's fuming.
You're torn away from looking in their direction by Nate coming to stand in front of you. "See you in third period."
You nod and give him a small smile, going to sit with Lexi, despite Cassie giving you that same glare from yesterday. A worse one, really.
"What the hell was that?" Lexi asks, her tone full of concern as you sit down beside her, setting your bag on the table.
"Nothing. He just drove me to school, that's all."
"And home," Cassie says, voice full of malice.
Lexi looks from her sister, then back to you. "The two of you are not hooking up."
You flush. "No. He just gave me a ride, that's all."
"Ok, but why would he do that? The two of you never talk. You're not even friends."
You do your best to ignore Cassie's unsettling stare.
"I'm just—" You immediately shut your mouth. You should've thought further ahead, should've thought about what excuse you would give people when they inevitably ask why the two of you are hanging out all of a sudden.
Nate asked you to keep it a secret and you aren't about to betray his confidence. If you do, you're sure he'll fail and never bother asking for help again.
"Just what?" Lexi prods.
"We're just hanging out. It's not a big deal. I promise."
Suddenly, Cassie stands, angrily grabbing her bag, jerking it off the table and storming away.
Lexi rolls her eyes. "Just ignore her. I don't know why she's still hung up on him, anyway. He treated her like crap." She shifts in her seat, facing fully toward you now. "What I can believe even less, however, is the fact you're giving him the time of day. He's an asshole. He was abusive toward Maddy and wanted to keep screwing Cassie so long as she kept it a secret. He uses people, Y/N."
Abusive? You knew he and Maddy had argued quite a bit, but nothing that severe.
"What do you mean by abusive?"
She shrugs. "I don't know much, since she and Cassie obviously aren't friends anymore. But I know a good portion of it, at least, was emotional. Maybe verbal, too. Then again, I don't think she was any better." Lexi glances behind you, and you don't dare turn around, now worried the subject of your conversation is who she's looking at. "She gives as good as she gets."
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Once the school day is over and you go to drop off your books at your locker, you find Nate leaning up against it.
He smiles when he sees you and you give him a shy smile in return.
You put your things away, then look to Nate.
In truth, what Lexi told you had gotten to you a bit. You try to tell yourself that it's all nothing more than hearsay, and you're only tutoring—not dating him—so whatever had occurred between he and Maddy and Cassie is none of your concern.
"You ready?"
You nod, and, just like this morning, he places his hand firmly against your back.
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Once you're in his truck, you notice Maddy staring at you today, just a few cars away. She and Kat are both looking in your direction, Maddy clearly getting worked up and Kat obviously trying to calm her down, and your eyes widen when she begins heading in Nate's direction.
Before she can reach him, however, he gets in the truck and pulls out of the lot, leaving her standing there, staring after the two of you.
You're glad whatever was about to happen has just been avoided.
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Over the next week, you and Nate go to your house every day after school to study. You gradually get to know more about one another, like you learning he has a brother—which you'd somehow managed to forget over the years—and he tells you how passionate he is about personal fitness, something to which you don't much relate.
It'd been abundantly clear since day one that he dislikes his father. But that dislike—even if he talks about him very little—clearly, somewhere along the way, became loathing. It's all in the tone he uses, the language he uses when he's brought up.
But the thing that always seems to calm him—make him happier—is talking about you.
He asks you every question in the book: favorite food, color, flower, song, type of music, art, what you want to be when you graduate, the kind of house you want to live in. The list is endless.
And then the day came when he asked to see your room, with you standing awkwardly in the doorway as he surveys every inch.
He starts with your bed, your fluffy white comforter with small pink flowers printed across it, and your plethora of pillows. And then he notices the small brown teddy bear leaned back against said pillows. He briefly picks it up, smirking to himself, then looking at you.
“Do you sleep with this?”
Your face goes blood-red. “Y-yes.”
He studies it for a moment longer, making a mental note to one day buy you one himself, wanting you to sleep with one that’s come from him instead.
In truth, while you think about you sleeping with a stuffed animal as embarrassing—at least for another person to now know about—it’s a major fucking turn-on for him. You’re that innocent that you still sleep with a teddy.
He sets it back down, throwing a “that’s very sweet” your way before moving on to your bookshelves.
Not that he’s read or heard of the grand majority of the novels you have, he can tell by the titles and covers alone that they’re all either romance or fantasy. He supposes he understands that: you trying to escape through stories. Stories where you can go somewhere else, be someone else. Have a new family, new friends.
And then he thinks it incredibly sad—just how lonely you are.
It’s not like he isn’t already aware of it, because he is—has became more and more so as the last week has gone on. Everyday he’s come to your house it’s been empty. But to see your shelves crammed full of books—your one attempt at escaping into a better life—he vows in that moment to start working faster at bringing the two of you together into a relationship.
You need him.
You like stories about princesses trapped in towers and white knights coming to save them? Then that’s exactly what he’ll be for you. He’ll rescue you from the lonely hell you’re living in and give himself to you fully. He’ll dedicate all of his time that he can to you. And he plans to spoil you fucking rotten.
He looks over the various trinkets you have set on—and on top of—those shame shelves. Porcelain figurines of unicorns and cats, a small jeweled crown, some candles and a few faux plants.
He turns back to you. “Which one is your favorite?”
You shift nervously from one foot to the other. “The Lord of the Rings, actually. I…I really like Éowyn and Faramir’s story.”
He nods.
He’s never watched the movies, and has obviously never read the book, so he makes a mental note to at least do some reading on the characters you’ve mentioned to understand you better.
He then looks over your entertainment center and the small collection of DVDs you have alphabetically organized in one of the cubbies. Beauty and the Beast, Ever After, Stardust, The Last Unicorn, The Princess Bride, among a few others.
He then steps over to your closet and pulls the doors open without even asking your permission first.
You don’t much react to him doing so, supposing that everything in there you’ve worn to school at some point anyway.
He’s met with skirts and sweaters and dress blouses. Another thing he’s going to have to change—your wardrobe. It isn’t exactly “frumpy”, but it isn’t feminine enough for his taste, either. He wants your clothes to reflect who you truly are. Sun and baby doll dresses, and tennis skirts with the right pretty tops will suit you far better. Sandals and delicate flats. Your hair curled and actually down for once, perhaps with a bow in it. And he’ll buy you a few nice pieces of expensive jewelry as well. Maybe take you on a shopping trip to Tiffany one day.
He closes the doors in front of him.
What he really wants is to go through not just your bedside table, but also the top drawers of your dresser. He's curious if you've ventured into the territory of lingerie and sex-toys yet. And if so, what your preferences are.
He doesn't like to imagine you using more than a vibrator on your clit to get yourself to orgasm. As for lingerie, he doubts that you own any, but he often pictures you in lacy panties and pastel teddy nightgowns.
He adds such things to his mental shopping list of things to one day buy you.
Speaking of orgasms, however, he'd come thinking of you nearly every night for the past week.
He imagined you on his bed, naked, your pussy soaked for him, your legs spread wide as he teased you until you were begging for him to put himself inside of you.
He imagined all the things he'd teach you in bed, sure that you're inexperienced.
And only after you promised him that you're his—belonged to him and wanted no one and nothing else but him—did he finally join your two bodies together.
Finally, he sits on the edge of your bed. He then glances to the chair which hangs from the ceiling in the back left corner of your room, directly facing where he now sits.
You walk over, sitting in it.
He then lays back on your bed, feet still planted firmly on the floor, arms folded behind his head—God, he’s so tall.
“Do you not get lonely here?” He asks, turning his head to look at you.
You lift one of your socked-feet onto the chair, wrapping your arms around your bent knee. You shrug.
He shakes his head. “Don’t do that.”
Your brows furrow. “Do what?”
“Act like you being left alone all the time doesn’t matter. It matters; you matter.”
You remain quiet. Then, “I’m used to it. I like being alone.”
He refuses to believe that, knows it’s bullshit.
You’d only spent a week together, and only a little over an hour every day at that, but it’d not taken but a couple of days for you to—at times—talk his ear off. At one point, it’d nearly gotten on his last nerve, until his stomach dropped and heart broke when he realized why: how fucking long had it been since you’d had someone—anyone—to really talk to? Someone who bothered to truly listen? How long had you stayed silent, withdrawing further and further into yourself, until you’d built up an entire fantasy world within your mind and soul, which became your new reality?
And so he promised to himself—and mentally to you—that he’d never, even if it were true—tell you he doesn’t care what you have to say. He won’t be just one more person to hurt and let you down. Just like he knows you won’t be as much to him.
You’re good for him. He could tell as much from the first day he spoke to you.
He stares at you for a moment, making you squirm. “I don’t believe that.”
“Ok.” You don’t particularly feel like arguing. He can believe whatever he wishes.
He frowns. He dislikes that you don’t seem to much care what his opinion of you is. He supposes it’s a strange dichotomy. Going from Cassie who, it was all she cared about, to you, who clearly can’t care less.
“You’re really telling me that talking to barely anyone at school, except occasionally Lexi, and being alone in this house all the time doesn’t ever get to you?”
You shrug. “It’s just what I’m used to.”
In all the talking to him you’d done over the past week, all of it had been surface-level. About history or the new book you were reading, or something you’d read in a news article. None of it was actually truly about you.
If his plan to get in deeper with you—to know you like no other person on the planet does—is going to work, then you need to give him more.
“What if it wasn’t?”
“What do you mean?”
He shrugs, looking up to the ceiling. “What if we started hanging out more often than just when we study after school? We could text or something, too.”
You appreciate his being concerned for you, you think it really kind of him. Even if makes you the least bit uncomfortable. You tell yourself it’s simply because it’s something you’re not used to: someone showing genuine concern for you.
“I don’t want to be a burden.”
He looks at you again. “You wouldn’t be. I like spending time with you.”
You’re not sure how to respond, so you just say thanks.
“I feel like for the last week I’ve done nothing but ask you questions about yourself. Is there anything you want to know about me?”
He’ll never admit it, but your lack of interest in him hurts his feelings. It makes him feel like you aren’t nearly as attracted to him as he is to you.
“I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
He smirks. So that’s why. Always so fucking considerate; his sweet girl.
“You won’t.”
You think for a moment. The things you really want to ask him about are too personal this early on (even if you’d told yourself such things were none of your business, you can’t help wanting answers). Like why he despises his dad so much, and what happened with him and Maddy and Cassie. And what happened at that New Year’s party which landed him in the hospital?
You start smaller. “What made you want to play football?”
He considers giving you some bullshit answer—which will seem a plausible enough explanation—and giving you the actual truth. Finally, he decides on both. “It gives me something to do, for one. A reason to push myself harder. It gives me something to focus on. And football is a contact sport. So when I’m pissed off, I finally have something to take it out on.”
“Like when you’re angry with your dad?”
He grows silent.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”
He shakes his head. “It’s ok. It’s not like I’ve exactly been subtle about my dislike of him.”
He doesn’t elaborate further than that.
“So…what’s your favorite color?”
He laughs. “I don’t know. Black, I guess.”
Somehow it seems fitting for him.
He looks at you, able to read you. “But that’s not the kind of question you want to be asking, is it?”
“I don’t want to overstep boundaries.”
He leans up on one elbow. “Then how about we make it fair? You ask me one actually personal question, and then I ask you one. And we both have to answer. No matter what. As soon as one of us refuses to, I head home.”
You think about it for a moment, worried about the sorts of things he may ask, but you have an out. “Deal.”
He smiles. “Alright, ladies first.”
“Will you tell me what happened during New Year’s?”
He sits up fully then. “Fezco smashed a bottle over my head, then beat me within an inch of my life. He got the upper hand immediately by doing what he did with the liquor bottle. He almost fucking killed me, all for a worthless druggy.”
Your brows furrow. “Who?”
“Rue went to him with some made-up story about me harassing her and some friend of hers online. When in reality I want nothing to do with her. So then he threatened to kill me and finally fucking tried to.”
“Why would she do something like that?” It feels like he isn’t giving you the whole story. He’s laid out the edges of a puzzle, but is withholding the middle.
He shrugs. “She’s a drug addict, how should I know?”
Before you can reply, can think of a polite way to say: so what’s the real story here, he takes his turn.
“How come we were never friends?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, we’ve known each other since we were five-years-old. We grew up together, have known each other for over a decade now. And only in the last week have we really finally talked, or spent any amount of time together.”
You lean back in your seat. “Well, just because you grow up with someone doesn’t mean that fact has to serve as some prerequisite to becoming best friends or something. Sometimes people, even from a young age, just don’t click. You were always running around on the playground, playing sports with others. I was always sitting off to the side and reading or coloring or playing with toys. I guess you were just more outgoing than me.”
“You know what they say: opposites attract.”
You tell yourself he’s just referring to friendship.
He lays back again. “Well, it may’ve only taken eleven years, but we’re friends now. I just… I just wonder what things might’ve been like had it happened sooner.” He sighs, then, “Your turn again.”
To an extent, you wonder that, too. Mostly just what it would’ve been like to have a best friend for that long.
“What happened between you, Maddy, and Cassie?”
“Not going to give me an easy one, huh?”
You let out a small laugh.
“Me and Maddy had been together since sophomore year. I guess we just grew comfortable with one another, even if we weren’t always happy. Even if it wasn’t always healthy. It didn’t start out toxic. We were happy at first. For awhile. A long while. But she just…it was like she wasn’t pleased unless we were fighting and then making up.
“It was just a constant cycle of her beating me down, then trying to build me back up again through sex. She just…she made me feel like shit about myself. As both her boyfriend and a man. It was like it wasn’t bad enough: the shit I dealt with at home with my dad. She just had to become one more problem in my life that I was forced to deal with.
“I’d hoped that if I loved her hard enough, if I gave her enough, she’d love me back the way I wanted to be loved. The way I loved her. Turns out I was just a fucking idiot.”
Tears sting your eyes. You feel so sorry for him. To be so young and to have already known an emotionally abusive relationship was heartbreaking. It was one reason why you refused to date at such a young age. You were all too young to understand yourselves, nevermind another person. Not in the context of loving and taking care of them, at least. You all were barely even fully-formed people yet.
So that was what Lexi had been referring to before. Just like everything, there were always two sides.
“And Cassie?” You ask, softly.
A muscle in his jaw feathers. “Just a giant fucking mistake. We first hooked up a couple weeks after Maddy and I had broken up…again. It happened on New Year’s Eve. I just…maybe I was trying to get even for what Maddy had done to me at the beginning of the school year—fucking a guy in the pool at McKay’s house—right in front of everyone.
"And then we hung out more, and at first I thought she was different. Maybe better for me. Until she started blowing up my phone with hundreds of calls and texts, screaming one night in my room about how crazy she was, how she’d never let me be with anyone else. How she was better for me than all the rest.”
Your brows raise. That unhinged? Cassie had always seemed so sweet and demure to you. But you’d also hardly ever been around her outside of school.
And dating—being in relationships—seemed to sometimes bring out the worst in people. Facets they themselves didn’t even know they had.
“I’m sorry, Nate. I never knew Cassie was so…” You trail off, until he fills in the rest for you.
“Psychotic?”
You laugh. “I wasn’t going to say it like that, but…” You shift legs, wrapping your arms around your other one now. “Your turn.”
He remains lying back, wanting this question to come off as something he’s casually asking. Whereas, in reality, he’ll be holding onto every word of your answer.
“Have you ever dated before?”
You feel like you suddenly want to use your out, but refrain. It’s a simple enough question, with a simple answer. “No.”
He looks over at you. “Never?”
You shake your head. “Nu-uh.”
His brows raise. He’d never known you to have a boyfriend before, but until recently he’d not exactly kept tabs on you.
It surprises him.
“Have you never kissed anyone or had sex?” He prays the answer to both is no. Also hopes you don’t cut his questioning you short.
You’re quiet for a moment, the two of you just staring at one another. Until, finally, you decide to answer. “No. And I’m not ashamed to say it. Not having done either of those things is a choice, just like having done them is as well.”
He sits up, hunching over to try and hide the erection he can feel forming.
No one has ever been inside of you—not in your mouth, not in your pussy, and not in your ass. Another pair of lips have never even touched your own, another tongue has never tasted you. Another pair of eyes has never explored your lovely naked body.
He wants to know what you do, then, to satiate yourself when the mood strikes. Do you rub at your clit until you come? Do you finger yourself—he wonders if your hymen is still intact? Do you bunch a pillow up between your legs, humping it until you've finished and the case is soaked? Or do you take and rub your teddy against your wet, needy pussy until you’re sore and can’t take it anymore?
God he wants to know what you fucking taste like. Wants to feel your fingers in his hair as he goes down on you. Needs to know what your perfect pussy feels like around his cock.
But he knows it’s too soon for any of that. For you, at least.
“That’s not something to be ashamed of. Not nowadays. You should be proud of yourself for having held out this long. I admire it.”
You shrug. “It’s not that hard to do.”
He smirks. “That’s because you’ve never done it before. Once you’ve been with someone in that way…giving up that kind of intimacy is difficult.”
You think any kind of intimacy must be hard to let go of after having it. Whether it’s emotional, intellectual, physical…sexual. Maybe it’s one more reason you keep most people at arm’s-length. If you never let anyone in, then you’ll never have to worry about losing them.
You clear your throat. “My turn.”
He lays back again.
“Can I ask about your dad?”
He flexes his jaw. “What about him?”
“Why do you hate him so much?”
There’s a long pause and then he finally sits up. “I guess it’s time for me to go.”
You plant both of your feet on the floor, now sitting on the edge of your swing-chair. “You don’t have to. I’m sorry. I was just curious. Since he always seems so…perfect, you hating him, I guess, is just a source of confusion for me. Then again, maybe that perfection is the source of it: your hate. I don’t know.”
“That’s part of it. But not all.” And that’s all the answer he’s willing to give you.
Letting onto his hate for his father in the first place was a mistake. But that loathing sometimes seeped out. And he feels like he can be honest with you. He trusts you. So, sometimes he lets go a little. That lid he keeps so tightly screwed slips loose sometimes in your presence.
He stands and you fill with guilt.
You’d gone too far. You’d known better—that asking about his father would end up being a mistake—but you’d brought him up anyway. And now you’d ruined the day.
“You really don’t have to leave. We can talk about something else?”
He pretends to consider that for a moment. When in reality, he’s all too-pleased that you’re so eager for him to stay.
Then, he steps over to you, standing in front of your seat, towering over you as you look up at him. He briefly thinks that this would be a perfect position for the both of you to be in as you take him into your mouth.
Then, he kneels down. One week was all it had taken for you to bring him to his knees.
He reaches up, grabbing either of the ropes the chair hangs from from on either side of you. “It’s Friday.”
You smile nervously. “That’s very observant of you.”
He smiles, letting out a small chuckle. “I just mean that it’s only four o’ clock; still early. We could go do something together.”
He begins to lightly swing you, just barely.
“Like what?” You ask quietly.
He shrugs. “Whatever you want. I could take you to dinner, take you shopping. I’ll take you wherever you want to go, even if you just want to drive around.”
You don’t know how to respond to his offer. “You don’t have anywhere else you need to be?”
“Not at all.” He wants so desperately to touch you, but he sees you like a newborn fawn, easily frightened; skittish. So he refrains. For now at least.
You glance to the set of glass doors beside the two of you which lead into your backyard. At the sun still high in the sky and tree branches blowing lightly in the wind. And then you look back to Nate, seeing no good reason to waste such a beautiful day cooped up inside.
“Okay.”
He smiles. “Good.” He stands, offering you his hand.
You take it, doing the same. “I’ll just be a minute, I need to change again. Don’t really want to go out in sweats.”
He nods, going to leave, then stops by your closet. He pulls the doors open and you watch as he pulls out a light-pink sundress, then turns back to you, holding it out in your direction.
“You don’t have to wear it, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen it on you at school before. Just thought it might look nice.”
You gently take the dress from him.
He speaks before you can tell him no. “I’ll be waiting in the living room. Take your time.”
Once the door has shut behind him, you look down at the dress in your hands, then at the things you usually wear—the clothes you feel most comfortable in—beckoning you from your closet.
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While you dress, Nate leans back on the couch, hoping you wear what he’s picked out for you. In truth, he wants to dress every inch of you. He wants to do your hair, your makeup—even if you never wear any. He wants to pick out a cute matching pair of lingerie for you—so only he knows what’s under your clothes—your shoes, your jewelry, even your perfume.
He isn’t sure why it means so much to him—perhaps it’s just another thing he feels the need to have control over. He wants you to look nice. He knows you’re capable of matching his ideal picture of what he wants you to be in his head.
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When you finally emerge from your bedroom fifteen minutes later—you’d spent half of that time sitting on your bed considering putting the dress away—he’s left speechless.
You’d put on the dress, along with a cute pair of sandals, your toes already painted a pleasant shade of pink, which just so happens to match the item you’re now wearing. And between your breasts hangs a necklace.
You stand in the entryway awkwardly, one of your hands clutching your other arm. “I feel ridiculous,” you whisper, your face red.
He stands, coming to position himself in front of you. “You look beautiful.”
You’re surprised by his response. Wearing something which shows off so much of your body makes you want to crawl out of your skin.
You’d considered putting on a cardigan to cover your arms, but it’s almost ninety-degrees outside. So you decided against it.
He reaches around to the base of your ponytail, his thumb, index and middle finger gripping your hairband. “May I?” He asks, looking down at you.
You feel dumbstruck by the sensation of the base of your hair in his grip, so you just nod.
He gently pulls the band free, your hair falling over your shoulders and down your back, coming to rest just above your ass.
He’s never seen hair as long as yours before. Why the hell do you keep it up all the time?
He flexes his hand, the holder now firmly around his wrist and he reaches up with both of his hands, running his fingers through your soft hair, massaging your scalp as he styles it.
You just stare up at him, his face the picture of concentration as his fingers work against your head, through your long strands of hair. Your eyelids droop just a bit out of the feeling of relaxation that comes over you, goosebumps rising on your arms.
Nate takes note of that, as well as the quiet whimper in the back of your throat as his fingers brush against the base of your neck for just a moment. He likes that you like the way he’s touching you. He wants to know what other places his fingers and hands could explore that would get him similar results.
Finally, once he deems your hair presentable to his personal satisfaction, half of it falling down your back, the other half split evenly over both of your shoulders, he slips one hand into his pocket, the other coming to rest under your chin, making you look up at him again.
He feels blood rush to his cock at the flushed, lax look on your face as your hooded eyes stare up into his own.
“Why don’t you wear your hair down more often? It looks very pretty like this.”
“It gets in my way,” you state, your voice now having a dreamy quality to it.
He really likes you like this. All soft and submissive and dressed how he likes. He wants you wrapped around his finger sooner rather than later. Completely his in every single fucking way imaginable.
Today will be one step closer to getting that future.
He deems what you’ve said a good enough answer, but he knows you’ll have to get used to it. Your hair being down suits you far better than it being up.
He steps away, walking over to the door, holding it open for you.
Once you’ve locked it behind you, he holds open the passenger side door of his truck for you, same as always, shutting it firmly once you’re inside.
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The Fig & The Lime (The Surprise, Part 5)
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Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: pregnancy times, established relationship, fluff on fluff on fluff, vague references to sex, church times and references to religious trauma Word Count: 2.1k
Summary: As your risk of a miscarriage goes down, you and Emily decide it's time to start telling people about the baby. You decide to start with the hardest person: Emily's mom. And her reaction prompts you both to make your first major parenting decision together.
Week 11: The Fig
You couldn't remember sleeping more in your entire life. You felt like you’d reverted to infancy: eat, sleep, repeat. No matter how long you slept, it was never enough. By 10:00 AM, you needed a nap. Then again at 2:00. Maybe 4:00 as well. And at night? You were lucky to make it ‘til 8:00.
So Emily wasn’t surprised when she got back from her week-long case and found you fast asleep, curled up on your side of the bed, your glasses crooked on your nose and your thumb stuck in a book. She smiled lovingly at you, pausing just to stare at you for a minute, just to watch your chest move up and down, to listen to your little huffs of breath.
Emily set her go-bag down, removed the dirty clothes, and threw them in the closet hamper basketball-style. One missed and landed nearby on the floor. She shrugged, stupidly relieved that you’d been asleep for it. You would’ve made fun of her for missing.
She crept over to you, trying not to make a sound, and leaned down to brush your hair out of your face. She gently removed your glasses and set them on your nightstand, then slid the book out of your hands, careful to hold your place. Emily leaned down to place a soft kiss on your head, standing back to stare at you again.
She shook her head and smiled. How many years had you been together? Was it five now? Six? And she still got butterflies every time she saw you sleeping in her bed. There was just something so vulnerable about you when you were asleep, something precious and rare and beautiful. For Emily, sleeping around someone meant incredible trust, it meant believing that you were safe when you could do nothing to protect yourself. Emily didn’t feel that kind of safe around anyone except you. So it made her heart melt every time she found you sleeping, every time you let yourself drift off, every time she came home and you didn’t wake up because your body and mind felt so safe with her. Emily loved making you feel safe. And, to her, moments like this were the physical manifestation of a mission accomplished.
Emily took a quick shower, washing away the grime–physical and mental–of a week spent hunting a gang of serial killers. She put on a soft t-shirt and sweatpants and crawled into bed, calm flooding her body knowing that it was Saturday afternoon. She’d have the rest of today and all of tomorrow to do nothing but be with you.
As she wrapped her arm around your waist and pulled you to her, you breathed in sharply and blinked. For a moment, Emily felt guilty for waking you, but the guilt disappeared when you turned your head around, bleary-eyed and beaming.
“You’re home,” you breathed, voice raspy. You turned around so you could face her, then wrapping your body around hers and holding her as tightly as a snake, your head nestled in the crook of her neck. "You smell good," you mumbled.
Emily smiled. Half-awake, half-asleep you was her favorite because you were less self-conscious than usual. All-awake Y/N would feel a little embarrassed about wanting to be so, so close to her. All-asleep Y/N would have been, well, asleep. But halfway Y/N… Emily loved the way you pressed your body into hers, like you were making yourself a nest, a home, right there in her arms.
She kissed the top of your head, running her hands through your hair.
“I missed you,” Emily whispered. “Go back to sleep, love.”
“Wait, I have to show you something,” you groaned, stretching a bit and turning to lie on your back.
You took her hand and guided it down your body.
Emily raised her eyebrows and smirked. “Y/N, I’m pretty sure I’ve already seen this, but I’m happy to take another look if you want.”
You whacked her playfully, still not quite awake.
“No, you perv,” you grumbled. You pressed her hand down just above your pelvic bone. “Do you feel that?”
“It’s kind of hard, like a… like a bouncy ball or something.”
You nodded, smiling, your eyes drifting shut again. “It’s the womb.”
“It is!?” Emily sat up and crouched down above your belly, eager to see–though there wasn’t really much to see yet. She pressed on the spot gently with her fingers, staring at it wonderingly. 
The baby’s in there, she thought, giddily. My baby’s right there! She placed a kiss there, for you and for the baby.
“Does it feel weird?” she asked, glancing up at you when you didn’t answer. Your mouth hung open and you snored softly. She smiled; you’d fallen back asleep.
She kissed the spot where the baby was one more time, then kissed your shoulder, your cheek, your forehead. She manhandled you a bit so that you were snug in her arms, the way she knew you liked to be, even if you didn’t like admitting it. Emily wrapped one arm around you, and with the other, placed her hand over your womb, feeling the little rubber ball like it was magic and might disappear at any moment. But she knew the real magic was you, your body knitting together a child right there, right below her hand.
Week 12: The Lime
You glared at yourself in front of the mirror, tugging on your maxi skirt.
“You look beautiful, honey,” Emily said, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “Zip me up?”
You sighed and zipped up Emily’s dress, a red-and-white floral number, momentarily distracted from your own outfit by how truly stunning Emily looked.
“I wanted to wear a suit,” you grumbled. “You know I like suits better.”
“Well, Little Lime disagreed,” Emily replied, trying to hide a smile.
You weren’t showing yet, not really, but your custom suits didn’t fit anymore, and you were furious. It was Easter Sunday. You were going to Mass with Emily’s mom.
Neither of you were religious, but it was important to Elizabeth and, while Emily and her mom weren’t very close, Emily figured that once or twice a year, she didn’t mind seeing her mom–and she actually kind of liked going to Mass.
“You know I like to look extra gay when we go to church,” you complained as Emily pulled on a pair of heels. “What if they think we’re just friends?”
Emily chuckled, taking your hand and kissing the side of your head. “Baby, I’m pretty sure no one’s gonna think we’re just friends.”
You locked the apartment door behind you, still not entirely convinced.
“I mean, I can make out with you during the homily if it’ll make you feel better,” Emily teased.
“No.” You shook your head. “Let’s just get this over with.”
“You’re still okay with telling my mom about the baby?”
“Yeah,” you decided. “It’s time. Plus, when would we see her again?”
Emily shrugged. “I don’t know… New Year’s?”
You scoffed. “Yeah, I don’t think we should show up at Christmas Eve Mass with a surprise three-month-old.”
And with that, you headed to the one place you’d always assumed you’d never return to: church.
Elizabeth hugged Emily stiffly as you slid into the pew, then hugged you a little less stiffly. It wasn’t that she was homophobic exactly, it’s that she would have preferred Emily settle down with a man instead of a woman. But she liked you. You had a hard time with her, mostly because you knew that Emily, despite growing up with enough money to support about eight of your family, hadn’t had a happy childhood with her mom. But you did your best to be kind and gracious, for Emily’s sake. Emily didn’t want to be close to her mom, but she did want her in her life, and that was enough for you to try your best.
Emily had a complicated relationship with church. You’d grown up Baptist, not Catholic, so the solemnity and tradition of Catholicism was foreign to you. Despite being an atheist, Emily still found comfort in attending the occasional Mass. It was the repetition, she told you. The familiarity of it. You didn’t understand, not really. When you’d left religion, you had never wanted to step foot in a church again. But Emily was not you. There were parts of it that were home to her–as much of a home as she’d ever known moving around so much. And even though you didn’t understand, you honored and respected it.
You wondered, as the sounds of Latin and the smell of incense mingled around you, if Emily would want the baby to be baptized. You hadn’t discussed it. Religion wasn’t something you discussed often. You guessed you’d be okay with it, but you were adamantly opposed to raising a child to believe in God. Your own childhood had been filled with fiery stories of hell, tales of martyrdom that venerated toxic self-sacrifice, and the crushing, shameful, pervasive belief that something was inherently wrong with you–something that God had to fix.
You would never, never let your child believe that something was fundamentally wrong with her. Never. You wanted her to grow up believing that she was fundamentally right just the way she was. You made a mental note to discuss all this with Emily later. You assumed you’d be on the same page, since neither of you believed in God, but it was better to be safe than sorry.
After the service, Elizabeth took you out to eat at a very nice Italian restaurant. She ordered a bottle of wine for the table, and as the waiter leaned down to pour your glass, you tapped his arm.
“Just water for me, thank you,” you told him.
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows, looking back and forth between you and Emily.
“Something to share?” she asked.
Emily exhaled deeply and smiled at you. She was nervous, you could tell. She took your hand and looked at her mom.
“Yes, Mom. We are… having a baby. Y/N’s pregnant!”
“Well,” her mom responded, taking a sip of wine. Emily’s face fell. You could have slapped Elizabeth. “That’s… that’s excellent, dear. Congratulations.”
“Thanks,” Emily mumbled, and you squeezed her leg under the table. Most of the time she was so good at predicting her mom’s reactions. She was used to being let down and sidelined, used to her mom being disappointed in her. But sometimes, like anyone would, she let hope get the best of her, and got hurt all over again. Of course, Elizabeth had been lukewarm about your pregnancy. She’d been lukewarm about your marriage, lukewarm about your relationship. Hell, she was lukewarm about Emily in general.
You were glad that the baby–and Emily–had one side of the family that was truly over the moon about all of it. Your parents, you knew, would be giddy at the prospect of another grandchild. And your siblings would be thrilled to have a new niece or nephew. And Emily had told you before, often, that your family felt more family to her than hers ever had.
Later, when you came home, you cuddled up to Emily on the couch, leaning back into her chest. She had a faraway look in her eyes, absentmindedly running her fingers through your hair.
“Are you okay?” you asked quietly.
She sighed. “I don’t know what I expected.”
“You expected your mom to be happy you’re having a baby. That’s a reasonable expectation.”
“Not with her.”
You turned your head back to look at her, placing a hand on her cheek. “Emily. You deserve a family who celebrates with you. It’s not fair that she doesn’t do that. It’s okay to be upset.”
She seemed lost in thought for a while. You took one of her hands and played with her fingers.
“I don’t think we should go to Mass anymore.”
You furrowed your eyebrows. “Are you sure?”
She nodded. “I don’t want him growing up in that.”
You felt your heart unclench a bit. All those earlier anxieties, unfounded.
“I don’t want you to feel like you’re losing something though," you told her. "You always said Mass felt like home.”
She pressed her face into your neck, kissing your shoulder. “It did for a long time. But I have other things that feel like home now. Like you. And Little Lime. And the BAU.”
Your heart surged. It was an honor to be the place where Emily felt at home. “No Mass then,” you said.
“No Mass.”
And just like that, your first big parenting decision together had been made.
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the-traveling-poet · 2 days
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ooohh, Levi with a very playful, all smiles, carefree, flirty (maybe even a little promiscuous), cunning and smart reader (basically like an ENTP personality, or even Dazai Osamu from bsd if uk him). She's like known for her looks, personality and rebellious streak, and her fighting style too (very agile, incredibly flexible and has impressive reflexes). And maybe she's known Levi ever since back when he joined the Survey Corps.
Headcannon no. 12
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Captain’s Captain
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Warnings: brief mention of alcohol, brief mention of sexual content.
A/N: Anon I love Dazai so this is perfect xD I hope you don’t mind I made this a hc format, but if you do I’ll happily redo! Also, same applies to making reader a Captain to fit the part of the idea I had for your request. I apologize for how long this took me, I had some things come up!
Taglist: @21aurora @deepzombieyouth @braunsbabe @pelicanpizza @humanitys-strongest-brat @raginginferno267
Enjoy~
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As if the world above the Underground City weren’t foreign enough to the trio of thugs, Levi supposed it was only fitting that Farlan, Isabel, and himself had to be placed under an even stranger Captain during their forced stay in the Survey Corps.
Captain Y/N, he was made to remember her name while briefly under her command, was one of the strangest people he’d met in his first few weeks of training in the Survey Corps. Second only to Section Commander Hange.
She was eccentric; always had something to say and two cents to give to anyone who’d listen. Though, even if they didn’t, she’d continue on to herself.
She was crass; as bold and unpredictable as they came. Though skilled at her job, she was perhaps even more experienced in finding loop holes in any order fired her way from a Section Commander or even the Commander himself. Yet it wasn’t as thought she ever slacked off; Levi had seen her, on several occasions, merely wander off to another task that held more of her attention.
As odd as it had been at the time, he’d even seen her slip in a white lie to Commander stating she was taking the newest editions out into the forrest to hone their omni-directional mobility skills up in the trees; only to drag Farlan, Isabell, and himself out to a clearing for a hike instead.
She was clever, Levi had to give her that. And after some time, he grew accustomed to her strangely always upbeat personality.
Did she ever not have a smile on her face?
Although, one thing Levi hadn’t seen coming, was her absolute focus in combat; both on the training grounds surrounding HQ and out in titan territory on expeditions.
He may or may not have been in speechless awe of her effortless flexibility that she occasionally would flaunt to the newer cadets when training them. Farlan hadn’t let him forget, for an entire week, the way his face had turned scarlett after she had demonstrated a full split.
Though he wasn’t under her command long, as soon enough he held the same rank she did. But even after years of working side by side, she’d still refer to him as ‘cadet’, almost always followed by a coquettish smirk that made his cheeks flush pink.
From annoyance or embarrassment, he couldn’t quite discern; and he didn’t plan on finding out any time soon.
But when this continued, and even became more frequent behavior towards him in particular, he eventually found himself becoming flustered and lost for words every time she chanced a promiscuous comment thrown his way, and he was forced to ponder within himself how he really felt about her.
But it was all so oddly endearing despite the initial embarrassment?
All the sudden, people’s talk of her outstanding looks started to make sense…
Long after their friendship had blossomed, Levi would find himself seeking out her company whenever she was available; her relaxed and nonchalant demeanor always seemed to pull him away from stress, and her charismatic charm could pull even the most stubborn of smirks to his face.
Sometimes, he’d have tea with her. And sometimes, she’d convince him to have drinks with her. It wasn’t something he was used to, but quickly became accustomed to with her eager encouragement. Though, it had taken a bit more convincing for him to relax in such a way.
On one such occasion, late into a night of catching up on more personal matters outside of work, Levi had relied on liquid courage to throw one of her quick witted quips back at her in hopes to flustered her the way she had him for years now; and oh, how that backfired.
“Drinking whisky straight? Didn’t picture you drinking someone rougher to swallow than your tea. Say…I wonder what else you take rough?” She had teased him over a split handle of whisky she’d purchased from Sina, eyeing him up and down in her usual cheeky fashion from across the coffee table that separated their chairs.
“Dunno…Why don’t you come over here and find out?” He had responded, with a confidence he didn’t quite fully possess. Perhaps she had seen that, and maybe that was what prompted her making the first step towards their new romance late into that night and early into the next morning.
Either way, he didn’t regret making a fool of himself trying, and failing, to turn her red that night; as now he could call her his and endure her unique antics to a whole other level than anyone else had the pleasure of experiencing.
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reyla-the-black-wolf · 11 hours
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My Heart speaks for you (Part 3)
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Pairing: Eris x f!reader
Word Count: 4k
Warnings: fluff, a bit of flirting?, slight hints of anxiety, nightmare but with happy ending
Summary: Y/n is the youngest child of the High Lord of the Night Court and lives a slightly different life than the rest of her family. But what happens, when an unexpected visitor enters the stage and decides to completely change her life?
Music:
Let it all out on me - Houses on the Hill
Codex - Joel Sunny
Snowfall - Øneheart (8D Audio)
Part 1 ⎮Part 2⎮Part 3⎮
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Golden rays of sunshine fell on my face, leaves casting shadows onto my features. The forest around me smelled of wet moss and fresh rain, and the bittersweet scent of resin and delicate heather wafted through the air from afar, while the birds above sang their melodies merrily. 
I stood beside a birch tree, just as Eris had described, enjoying the last beams of sunlight and waited for him. The forest around me was painted in every autumnal shade imaginable, making it seem like a whole different world, the leaves competing to see who had the richest colours. It was breathtaking.
I had seen autumn in the Night Court, but it would never compare to the view surrounding me.
I spun around, my feet dancing across the spongy moss. Captivated by the glory of it all, I didn´t notice the light footsteps coming from behind. Someone chuckled, making me turn around to see the Autumn Court heir leaning against the bark of a tree. An amused smile played across his lips as he watched me. Of course, he looked as stunning as ever in his crimson tunic and fiery hair. 
A blush spread across my cheeks and my body tensed under his gaze. Suddenly the air felt too hot. Too dry. A certain heat radiating off him. Just breathe. No need to be nervous.
„Welcome to the Autumn Court, y/n! I´m delighted you accepted my invitation.“ He spoke as he walked towards me, extending his hand. Uncertain, I placed my hand in his. Gods, it was so small compared to his. His lips brushed my knuckles as he kissed them in a deep bow, the pink blush on my cheeks increasing. 
He straightened and looked at me, another smile creeping over his lips as he noticed my cheeks. 
Completely oblivious of how to react to his actions, I just stared at him like some love-drunk maiden. 
„Come on then, I´ll show you my home.“ He waved and began to move deeper into the forest. I snapped out of my daze and quickly followed, my hands in my pockets.
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We strolled through the woods for about five minutes when I remembered what was hidden in one of my pockets. Pulling it out, I showed Eris a small notebook, encouraging him to open it when he gave me a puzzled look. His fingers grazed mine as he grasped the book, sending a shiver over my skin. 
„So we can talk, even without words.“ and „Why did you invite me here? I thought you wanted nothing to do with me after what happened at the council meeting?“ - was written on the first page. He looked at me for a few seconds, hurt and confusion flashing in his eyes, before he answered. „I invited you because I want to get to know you better, otherwise I wouldn´t have written you this letter.“ Shame crawled into my gut. Of course. „And not only because you´re my mate, but back on Starfall you were the first person in a long time to listen to me without judgement.“ His answer surprised me, as I hadn´t expected him to be so honest and a tickling sensation settled in my stomach when he called me his mate. „So let me ask you, what is your life like? What should I know about you?“ he asked, stopping and staring directly at me with a challenging glint in his amber eyes, lowering his body to tower over me. His hands were crossed politely behind his back.
I pulled a pen from my pocket and quickly jotted down my answer. „You can ask me anything you like. I´ve got nothing to hide, fox.“ 
Eris laughed at the nickname and it was one of the most beautiful sounds I´ve ever heard. It was a deep and full laugh, smooth as silk and honey and with a touch of incredulity and irony, it melted right into my soul. „Careful, little dove. Foxes have sharp teeth and you certainly don´t want to meet mine.“ His intense gaze should´ve made me nervous, but instead it only spurred me on. In his presence, I didn´t have to play the shy girl or the cursed princess. I felt I could be myself. 
„Do you think you can intimidate me that easily, Eris Vanserra? So go ahead, ask me your questions.“ When I showed him what I had written down, he looked back at me with surprise in his features and something else I couldn´t quite put my finger to, so I put on my most defiant expression, raised one eyebrow and dared not look away. 
But a cheeky grin crept up my lips, causing me to break the stare and hide my smile, but Eris grabbed my shoulder and pulled me towards him, his chest almost touching mine. He was so tall, I had to lean back to look up at him. 
„Do that again.“ His breath swept over my face as I blinked at him, dumbfounded. „Smile again.“ So I did and gave him a coy smile. „You have a lovely smile, little dove.“ His other hand came up to caress my cheek, making me blush again. It felt rough and soft at the same time, and a lump formed in the back of my throat as I felt a heat building in my stomach. The tips of my pointed ears flushed. Something about that nickname made me feel... safe. The Eris everyone had told me about wasn´t the one standing in front of me, that´s for sure. 
I tried my best not to close my eyes and lean into his touch, not wanting this moment to end. 
When the silence turned to embarrassment, he cleared his throat and let go of my shoulder. „I can ask you anything I want?“ he asked, earning a look of annoyance from me in return, and chuckled. „Okay, fine. I´ll leave a couple questions behind. But hurry now, I want to show you something.“ He urged me forward, putting his hands behind my back. „Come on now. Otherwise we´ll miss it.“ I couldn´t hide another grin at his behaviour.  
We continued wandering through the woods, and he asked me any question that came to his mind. What do I like eating most? What do I do in my spare time, and what are my favourite flowers? What sights should he visit in Velaris? He was genuinely interested in me and my life, and I happily wrote down my answers to every single question. I `told´ him about my life in Velaris and what it was like to grow up in the Night Court.
At some point during our `conversation´, his questions became even more philosophical. Why are we born into this world? What do I think our purpose is, and do we even have one? I could feel myself relaxing more and more with each question he asked. With every twist and turn around the trees. With every minute the sun set deeper, until the last sunrays fell weakly through the treetops. 
Whether it was the fact that I was his mate that drew me to him, I didn´t care. I was beginning to like him. For himself. The self he probably didn´t show very often, if ever, in front of others. I liked him not because of this bond between us, but because he treated me kindly. Because he made me feel like I could be myself around him, and that meant a lot to me. Even though he would never know that.
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It must have been an hour later when Eris ignited a flame in the palm of his hand to provide us with some light. It had gone pitch black now that the sun had finally bid us farewell, only for her sister to shine as brightly as ever on the sky canopy.
My fingertips tingled and a blissful warmth built up in my chest as the heat of the flame gently stroked my skin. 
„Don´t worry, we´ll be right there.“ He said, noticing my worried look. I scribbled something on a page and showed it to him. 
„Yes, there are. But don´t be afraid little dove, the terrors of the night won´t find or harm us.“ I nodded slowly and closed the journal, putting it back in my pocket.
Two minutes later, Eris suddenly came to a halt and I bumped into his side. We were standing at the edge of a forest glade. The lush grass swayed gently in the night breeze, and the faint chirping of crickets filled the air. 
„This is what I wanted to show you, y/n.“ I looked up at him, utterly confused. Even more so when he just smiled at me, the flame in his hand died and Eris started to run out into the field. 
I didn´t understand what was going on at first, but what happened then absolutely stole my breath. 
Everywhere, fireflies ascended from the grasses into the night sky like lost stars. They danced and swirled around each other, bathing the clearing in a soft green, yellowish light. The crickets acted as a perfect orchestra, playing a sensual waltz as the fireflies soared higher and higher with each note. My mouth fell open and tears formed in my eyes. It was breathtaking. Amazing. Glorious. Without realising it, laughter broke out. But not Eris´s. No, it was mine. I was laughing! Totally mesmerised by the phenomenon before my eyes. A natural spectacle of the greatest beauty. A circus of floating lights. The magnificence of it all poured into my soul, warming me from the inside out as I shivered in anticipation. 
Eris turned when he heard my laughter, not even surprised that I actually made a sound, and waved me over. „Come here!“ He called, laughing as well. I walked slowly towards him, trying not to scare the fireflies away. The grass brushed my trousers and caressed my hands as I glided through it. Every now and then a single firefly landed on my shoulder to rest.
When I stopped in front of Eris, he looked down at me with a mischievous grin on his delicate lips. We stood so close I could hear his heartbeat and feel his hot breath tickling the tip of my nose. As we stared at each other in rapt, tears began to trickle down my cheeks as I was overwhelmed by... well, by everything. His hands cupped my face, brushing away the tears in comforting circles. „I assume you like it?“ He chuckled and I nodded, looking down. More tears streamed down my cheeks as another laugh escaped my throat. If I had to describe this moment, I´d say nothing but pure joy enveloped my body. „You should laugh more often, little dove. It suits you.“ His soothing voice sank into my being as I peered up at him with big doe eyes. I realised how wild and carefree I felt in his embrace. And how trapped I felt in my own home, with my own family.
The fireflies were reflected in his own eyes. They blended with the honey in them, making them sparkle even more. He looked truly magnificent. I turned around once, gesturing wildly with my hands at the clearing around us, and when I met his gaze again, my lips parted to speak, but I faltered. Instead, I mouthed „Thank you“ and gave him a graceful smile. „I appreciate it, but there is no need to thank me.“ He gestured to the ground and a plaid blanket appeared out of nowhere. 
We lay down side by side, gazing up at the fireflies floating above our heads and the dazzling stars on the firmament. I stretched my hand and accidentally touched his. My breath caught for a second, but Eris didn´t pull away, he even brushed his fingers over mine. The gentle movement made me close my eyes and exhaled deeply.
So there we lay. Enjoying this peaceful moment of life together. Right now I didn´t care what my family or anyone else thought about him. I just longed to stay like this forever and never leave this place, even though I knew I had to. But that didn´t matter now. 
„I found this clearing when I was a child.“ I opened my eyes and shifted to look at him. „Always ran away from my mother to explore the woods, you know? My brothers tried to follow me, but they could never catch up.“ He huffed. „What can I say? I´ve got some speed.“ I couldn´t help giggling at his own comment. „It´s become a safe haven for me. And it can be a safe haven for you too.“ Interest glinted in my eyes. „I use my magic to keep this clearing out of sight of any unwelcome visitors. In other words, my family will never find you here, so you can come and go as you please.“ I gave him a coy smile. „Only if you want to, of course.“ He added quickly. To show him I understood and honoured the fact, that out of all people he showed me his safe place, I squeezed his hand lightly in mine and the tips of his ears turned a shade darker. Was the Eris Vanserra blushing? Because of me? I tried to hold back a laugh, not wanting to embarrass him. As I rolled back onto my back, I tried to pull my hand away, but Eris wrapped his fingers between mine and gripped them tightly. It caught me by surprise, but didn´t bother me at all. 
So we returned to staring at the night sky, lying in the grass and listening to the crickets for I don´t know how long. 
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Cauldron, it´s late! I have to go. I shivered and rose abruptly from the ground, causing Eris to follow my movement. „Wait, y/n! I know you have to leave, but I´ve got one more little surprise for you.“ he said, still holding onto my wrist. He reached into an inside pocket of his tunic and pulled out a long, golden shimmering amulet, adorned with fine, ruby-coloured jewels that glistened under the moonlight. „If you´re ever in trouble, tap the gem in the middle and I´ll know and find you.“ I gratefully accepted the necklace and tucked it safely into my jacket. 
„Take care, little dove.“ He said farewell. „Goodbye.“ I mouthed, winnowing home. 
Little did I know what was waiting for me in my bedroom. 
I flinched, when I spotted my father´s stern face, his arms crossed. „I hope you have a good explanation for why you´re out of bed, young lady!“ His enraged tone made my hair stand on end.
That meant trouble ahead. 
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„It´s the middle of the night! Where have you been?“ „We were worried about you. You can´t just disappear, darling.“ „Are you all right? Are you hurt?“ 
My parents bombarded me with questions and I couldn´t answer any of them. Of course, I didn´t want to tell them that I had gone to Autumn Court to see Eris, because they would probably become even more worried and I didn´t want to risk that. 
But apparently I didn´t have to say anything. 
My father sniffed the air and before I could cover my scent, he growled. „You were with him.“ His voice was deep and menacing. „I thought we agreed you weren´t to see that... that jerk. He´s dangerous, darling.“ The expression on my father´s face perfectly displayed his anger and disappointment. Something inside me stirred at his insult and I wanted to protect Eris, so unconsciously my hands clenched into fists. „Why did you meet him?“ My mother tried to ease the tension by speaking in a calmer manner than her husband, but I just stood there, frozen, not looking at her. 
Sharp talons scraped carefully along my mind, demanding to be let in, but the hurricane that protected my thoughts only tightened, sending my father´s claws away and causing him to flinch at the unexpected defence. I knew he wanted to know what had happened between Eris and me, but he also would never enter my thoughts without permission. 
„Do you want to know why we´re not overly fond of him?“ He sighed, his tone was kinder this time, and my mother threw him a glance as if to say, `Are you sure?´ 
Do I really want to know why they don´t like him? Do I really want to know the answer to that? I wasn´t sure, but in the end my curiosity got the better of me and I nodded. 
So they began. 
They told me everything as the moonlight streamed in through the windows, illuminating my room with an eerie light. From Mor´s escape from Hewn City to what Eris had done to her and how Uncle Az had found her on that terrible day years ago. Also that Eris had once hunted my mother. They told me every detail. 
„He left her. Eris simply left her on the ground with nothing but a note nailed to her stomach.“ My father´s darkness swirled in the corners of my room as my mother gently stroked his arm to calm him. „I will never forget the moment Azriel brought her back. How he held her in his arms. And I will never forget when he was hunting for your mother, how he…“ he hesitated. „What your father is trying to say, sweetheart, is that Eris is not a good man.“ My mother said. „He is no more a good man than his father. Which is another reason.“ 
I wanted to believe them. I wanted to believe that Eris was the awful man they told me he was, but I couldn´t forget the man I had met. The way he had laughed when we walked through the forest earlier. The way his eyes had lit up when he heard me laughing.
I couldn´t. I didn´t want to! 
„The other reason we don´t like him, to put it mildly, is his father.“ She took a deep breath. „You must understand that Beron is... he is a cruel man, honey. High Lord or not.“ „The fact that Eris,“ my father clearly struggled with his next words, „is your mate means that you would live with him at Autumn Court because he´s the heir. But only if the bond snaps for you too.“ He came closer and cupped my shoulders, caressing them gently. „Starlight, don´t get me wrong. I´m more than happy that you´ve found your mate, it´s just that I wish it was someone more trustworthy.“ Slowly he leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on my forehead. „Your mother and I just want to know that you´re safe. And the Autumn Court is anything but.“ Both my parents pulled me into a tight embrace. I let myself be surrounded by their love and warmth, but there was still that feeling. A feeling hidden deep inside my soul that tried to protest. The perfect little daughter, aren´t you? Always obedient and quiet, huh? Before my inner critic got too powerful, I shoved those thoughts away. 
„My little star, please promise us you won´t see him again? It´s only for your own safety, okay?“ They looked at me with longing in their eyes. Hoping that I would agree with them. Déjà-vu. 
I took a deep breath, silenced my thoughts and looked straight at my parents. I will not back down. Not this time! 
Fake happiness sneaked into my eyes and I nodded, making them sigh and give me each a kiss on the forehead. They just have to believe I won´t meet Eris again. But who said I´d actually do it? I wanted to know his side of the story and I would find out, even if it hurt. 
With these thoughts, my parents wished me good night and left me alone in my room. I quickly washed myself, put on my pyjamas and lay down. My pillows enveloped me like cotton candy clouds and lulled me to sleep almost immediately.
The evening might have been imperfect in the end, but I wasn´t going to let the conversation with my parents ruin the wonderful experience with Eris. And as I thought about him, I soon drifted off into a pleasant sleep.
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It stared at me. The beast without eyes. The beast of many names. It stared. Devouring everything and everyone. Its waves tore at me like a rough wind on a stormy day. It tried to suffocate me. To steal my air. Help me! I need to breathe!
It circled around me and then...! A piercing pain shot through my entire being. It attacked. Again and again. Sinking its sharp claws into my flesh and knocking the air out of my lungs. I was drowning more and more in this all consuming place of nothingness. But this time... something had changed. Something inside me awakened. It growled and fought to get out. 
Another cruel pain shot through me, making this creature inside me even angrier. And then I struck back. I kicked into the darkness around me. I kicked and punched in every direction when suddenly a gut-wrenching scream escaped from the depths of my soul and the blackness around me shook. Every fibre of my being trembled and the darkness ripped itself apart until I collapsed, completely exhausted. 
My eyes were closed, waiting for the beast to strike again, but nothing happened. No sound, nor any noise could be heard. Just silence, floating like a boat on waves of crystal blue water, and my heavy breathing. 
I slowly opened my eyes and sat up. My hands met the ground beneath me. Solid ground! The darkness was still there, but it wasn´t moving. As if watching what would happen next, and just as I was thinking about that, something caught my eye. I turned my head to see a tiny spark glittering in front of me. It flickered again and continued to spread. It grew and grew until a dazzling fire crackled just a few paces out of reach. The flames flickered wildly, and glowing sparks flew in every direction. But instead of backing away, I held up a hand and reached straight into the flames. It should have burned my palm. Burned my flesh down to the bones into ashes. But out of every scenario, it diminished. It calmed down, and its blinding flames retreated, only to reveal a bright orange pelt. 
A fox. A little fox sat in front of me, staring at me with its big, black button eyes. It squeaked and sniffed in my direction. There was something familiar about it. The mischievous gleam in its eyes and the tiny, sharp-edged teeth that showed when it yawned. Cautiously he took a step forward. The tapping of his paws echoed through the brightening surroundings, and his fur shone as if it had been born of fire itself. What a beautiful little creature. He took a few more steps towards me and then lay down carefully in my lap. Completely amazed, I reached out to stroke its fluffy appearance. I was even more surprised when the little fox began to purr like a cat, interrupted now and then by a squeak. 
I didn´t know where it was coming from, but soft rays of sunlight poured in and chased the shadowy beast back to where it had come from. Something settled deep in my chest and the little creature in my lap stroked its head against my hand. The light grew brighter by the second until my vision blurred.
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@tele86 @circe143 @impossibelle @st4r-girl-official @cherry-cin @lilah-asteria
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hobiebrownismygod · 2 days
Text
Have an angsty snippet of my Hobie Brown x Reader fanfiction lol
This is what I headcanon his backstory is something like
TW: Blood, grief, death, very minor fluff, Boulevard of Broken Dreams by Green Day (not really a trigger but whatever), Hobie's lines are bolded btw
A/N I KNOW GREEN DAY DIDN'T EXIST IN HOBIE'S TIME BUT I LOVE THIS SONG SO LET ME HAVE MY FUN 😭
~2k words
___________________
"Aww Hobes, what are you doing?"
A 9 year-old Hobie Brown looked up at his big brother, his stubby little fingers still attached the chords of the older boy's new guitar. "I'm just looking!" he replied with a cheeky grin, holding the guitar back when his brother tried to grab it.
"Oi, give it back you prick!" The boy laughed, trying to snatch it again. Hobie danced away giggling, holding the guitar over his head. "Come and get-HEY!" The older boy tackled Hobie to the floor and pried the guitar out of his hands, holding it back out of his reach. 
"ABEEE!!" Hobie whined, his arms folded tightly over his chest. "Give it back!"
"You stole it first!" Abe giggled, 
"You're a jerk!"
"Who taught you that word?" Abe asked, wagging his finger at his little brother teasingly. "You're too little to be using mean words like that."
Hobie groaned, turning away from his brother and huffing. After a moment, the older boy sighed and crouched down behind his brother. "Ya want me to show you a couple chords?"
Hobie's face lit up. "Yea!"
Ten minutes later, he was all bundled up in his brother's arms while  he showed him the different  strings. "Alright this one's A." Abe put three fingers on the guitar and strummed it. Hobie nodded along, the side of his head on his brother's chest.
"And this one's A7. This one's A minor, this one's B minor, and this one's B7"
"I can't remember all those!" Hobie groaned.
"Alright, alright!" his brother said with a laugh. "How about I play you a song instead?"
"Okay." Hobie pulled out of his brothers arms to sit back against the old, broken down couch, a smile on his face as he waited for his brother to begin.
The older boy smiled at his little brother, pulling his hair back before resetting the guitar in his lap, fingers pressed against the chords.
He began playing. It wasn't the original song, more of a quiet, sadder, solo version. Hobie closed his eyes with a grin, taking a deep breath in. Even if it wasn't the real deal, he loved listening to his brother sing. His warm voice, the sound of the strums...it made him feel safe.
I walk a lonely road
The only one that I have ever known
Don't know where it goes
But it's home to me, and I walk alone~
His brother hummed to the music, tapping his foot to the ground to follow the beat. Hobie followed, moving his head side to side with every tap, his fingers fidgeting together as he smiled up at Abe.
I walk this empty street
On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams
Where the city sleeps
And I'm the only one, and I walk alone~
Abe was really all he had left. He used to have a lot of siblings, two sisters and one brother other than Abe. He was the youngest of the five and of course, the rowdiest. His parents had been pretty cool too, his dad worked at a radio station and his mom had been a stay-at-home mom.
I walk alone, I walk alone
I walk alone, I walk alone
His youngest sister had gone first. She was only a year older than Hobie, but she had been less than five pounds as a baby and always had problems with sickness and diseases. After the water had been contaminated by another one of Oscorp's toxic waste dumps...well she had been the first to go. Her and children from nearly every family in the neighborhood.
My shadow's the only one who walks beside me
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me
'Til then, I walk alone~
Then went his mother. She was so grief-stricken by his sister's death that she went into depression. She didn't eat, she didn't sleep, and eventually the water got to her too. They were buried only a few months apart.
I'm walking down the line
That divides me somewhere in my mind
On the borderline
Of the edge, and where I walk alone
His middle brother, three years older than him, went into a rage about the water. He was young, but old enough to do something about it. He went to the station and when they didn't do anything, he made a fuss. He wrote letters to the city board, protested in front of stations and then one day, they took him to jail. He was beat to death two days later, just a few hours before his bail was accepted.
Read between the lines
What's fucked up, and everything's alright
Check my vital signs
To know I'm still alive, and I walk alone
Eventually, the water was fixed. It became, not the cleanest, but better. Babies stopped dying. People were surviving. 
Then the riots started.
People were angry. Everyone hated the police, the officers that patrolled the streets everyday yet did nothing to stop everyday crime. Fights would break out, shots would be fired, and eventually his sister, his oldest sister, got caught in the crossfire.
Someone had stolen her school bag. She asked the police officer nearby if he'd seen who'd taken it. She'd had her hands in her pockets.
He thought she had a gun.
He shot her.
And then there were three.
I walk alone, I walk alone
I walk alone, I walk alone
His father didn't let anything stop him. After his sister's death, he started using his job to make a difference. He spoke out about Osborne on the radio every day. He rallied people together, he told them not to take what was going on in the community.
And then Osborne himself came after him.
He took down his radio station, burnt it to the ground, and threw his father into jail. The poor old man couldn't stand it. He'd lost his wife, most of his kids...the stress was too much. Within months, he'd died too.
It was just Hobie and his brother left.
Him and Abe against the world.
My shadow's the only one who walks beside me
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me
'Til then, I walk alone~
Abe did a lot to take care of him. He sold their old, rackety house for a tiny apartment. He worked odd jobs day and night, trying to provide for Hobie. Instead of taking the risk of sending him to school, Abe taught Hobie at home. Especially math and science, something both of the boys shared a love for.
They grew close. Hobie loved his older brother, more than anything in the world. He looked up to him.
He wanted to be like him.
So of course, when his brother started pasting up punk posters next to the couch, bringing home crazy-looking albums and sporting spiked jackets, Hobie couldn't help but want to follow in his footsteps. 
Even now, while he stared at his brother in such adoration, bundled up in blankets, half-asleep while Abe sang, he wanted to be like him. Tall, strong, always looking forward. A rock. A steady, strong, beautiful rock.
That's what he wanted to be.
I walk this empty street
On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams
Where the city sleeps
And I'm the only one, and I walk alone~
Abe finished, setting the guitar down with a sigh, gaze meeting his little brother's again. "How was that? I've improved, haven't I?"
Hobie practically jumped into his brother's arms to give him a hug. "Can you sing it again?" He asked tentatively, picking up the guitar.
"Aww, Hobes! I'm not doing that all again!" Abe said, shaking his head with a laugh. When he saw his brother's pleading expression though, he rolled his eyes. "Ugh. Fine. Ya little brat." He pushed Hobie off playfully before pulling up the guitar again and grinning a toothy grin.
_________________
10.5 years later
_________________
Hobie woke up with a gasp, sitting up straight. His face was wet, cheeks tearstained. What was that?
Abe...he'd completely forgotten about that memory. Hearing his favorite song for the first time. He held his chest tightly, taking deep, shaky breaths. Where was he?
Knocked out in an alleyway...he barely remembered what'd happened. The last thing he could remember was slamming into the wall, falling to the ground, and completely knocking out.
Except...something else had happened. It was only then when Hobie noticed his suit, which was newly black, with white lines. His jacket had disappeared, and the spikes that had used to be a part of it were attached to his suit instead. He pulled at his mask...but it wouldn't come off. It was stuck.
Shit.
He felt completely disoriented, that dream-no memory, had thrown him off. Of all the times he could've recalled that, it had to be now. Of all the times...
He missed his brother. When he reached his hand up to feel his mask, he felt it was wet. He'd been crying. But he'd also been knocked out.
What the hell?
It had to be the Venom. It was talking to him again...changing him. He couldn't let it take over again. He had to stay strong. Not just for himself, but for you.
He had to be strong.
Just like Abe had been.
_____________________
Full Fanfiction being written here:
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luck-of-the-drawings · 7 months
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TRAINING ARC: START!! BOTHER YOUR GUARDIAN AND EXHIBIT ISSUES. NOW SOLVE THOSE ISSUES BY BOTHERING GUARDIANS. I HAVE FULL FAITH IN OUR HEROS!
#jrwi fanart#jrwi prime defenders#jrwi pd spoilers#jrwi show#cw blood#okayokay tryin out this queue thing for the first time despite usin this webbed site since 2013. if all goes accordin to plan this should#post at noon tomorrow. in the mEANT TIME CAN I TAAALLK ABOUT THIS EPISODE PRETTY PLESe??? THIS SHOW IS SO FUCKIN FUNNY...#SO MANY BITS I WISH I COULDVE DRAWN.. THIS WHOLE SHOW IS SUCH A PERFECT CARTOON IN MY BRRAAIAIINN. VYNS whole deal with talkin to himself#wasnt his dealio like. he had like NO complications for most o the show before this. wats that one gravity falls scene with soos goin like#i knew it. im literally the perfect man. and then he raises his arms for a heavenly choir and a dove lands on him. thats vyncent. BUT NOOW#MY BOY COMPLICATED!!! THE OVERTHINKING THING IS SO FUCKIN GOOD AND FUNNY. MY BABY BOY CAN DO ANYTHING. HES SO GOOD AT BREAKING ROCKS#Oh and this doodle page also includes the winebago shenanigens after reuniting with tide. the DARTS remember the darts#remember when tide actually snapped at william for driving like a FOOL!!! LOVE THAT SO MUCH. i gotta draw tide more aauuughghghuhh#ohh my GOODD WILLIAMS BEEF WITH THE RABBIT N THE BOAR WAS SO FUNNY... THESE CHARACTERS ARE ALL SOO FLAWED#WILLIAM IS SUCH A LITTLE ASSHOLEE. VYNCENT IS STUBBORN BEYOND BELIEF AND REASON. DAKOTA IS PERFECT HES A LIL DUMB BUT HES SO SWEET AND KIND#AND OH MY GOD ONE MORE THING CAN I JUST SAY. bizly is such a magnifiscent dm. i remember sayin months ago that#he finds ways to stack impossible odds against our heroes while still leaving room for them to succeed. the pd hasnt taken a single W but!#theyre surviving!! theyre keeping it together! from meat planets to cartoons to other dimensions to fighting the GODS!!! pd is genuinely#such a delight to listen to. a comedy and a tragedy. a story of ragtag heroes doing their best to do good despite their own failings.
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theropoda · 6 months
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youtube
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sicpvon · 2 months
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forever thinking about how they used "It's Been A Long, Long Time" in Winter Soldier when the Soldier shoots Fury in Steve's apartment, revealing to Steve a man he will come to learn is someone he knows from the past. a man hes known since he was a child. someone he can relate to.
"Never thought that you would be, standing here so close to me. There's so much that i feel I should say."
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makerofmadness · 5 months
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Gotta say being Persian is funny because you're too white for progressives to care about your representation but not white enough to not get called camel-riders
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heartshapedtrap · 1 year
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just hung out w friends for five hours and feltso full of whimsy I could pass out <333 I miss them so bad already but I get to see them tomorrow tooooo
#like it wasn’t even planned we just talked on the phone then met up at **** house chatted while our other two friends made us friendship#bracelets and watched the cat be silly with a bowl of water that was like two hours of us doing that#then agroup car ride (I love when we do this sm it’s like my favorite part when we hang out) skin to skin in a tiny fucking car laughing#talking listening to music on our way to Taco Bell then rode around taking scenic routes b4 gas station break to like pee n buy snacks :33#flicked up another scenic route went to the epic park w the cool playground n reminisced about how it felt like being a kid again at 1am#I’m convinced all these fuckers are neurodivergent bc not one of them can go without stemming and ***** fucking climbing on top of the every#single thing LMFAO doing backflips off of swings and stuff too I had like an insane amount of whatever bc I skipped like the entire time#just to idk be silly and **** joined in :))) switches seats in the car and went to another park then rode in the car again to more scenic#routes and all the way back to **** house to get our stuff and each driveour cars back home <3#we group hugged at the epic park and the moment was so surreal bc we all were close to crying especially ******* like I love my fwends sm i#cannot even properly describe how happy they make me feel like sonearnestly so#I weirdly felt closer to ***** tonight too probably bc we indulged **** antics together and were skin to skin in the backseat of the car#like having to fasten each others seatsbelt his arm awkwardly behind me n out the window that close n how alike we are…#OH WAIT him and **** buzzed their hair like days before n it really hit me that I haven’t seen him w shirt hair since I’ve first known him#when we all were once coworkers together and it’s like a fond memory now and crazy to think about how we’ve all grown together as friends#ok done being sappy now b4 I actually fucking cry like eyes are on the brink as I type :p#*#personal#heartshapedtrap#can y’all tell I left my journal at home… and needed to like remember how happy I’ve felt since seeing friends <3#omggg i forgot to mention how they all cheered and were like happy for me during the scenic car ride that I’m almost certain im lesbian#still unsure of myself but I think that’s probably the closest label idk I just feel really happy that they support me nomatter what yaknow
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merevide · 6 months
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it’s one of those nights.
#ok i’m gonna ramble a bit because it’s all hitting me like rn#first of all. i hate this song. but i also love this song.#and my birthday is tomorrow and i’ve felt soooo fucking ill about it like more i’ll than usual#n this song has haunted me all year like every time i listen to it i gotta reflect that wow i haven’t done anything with my life i’m#practically friendless and hobbyless and don’t really enjoy doing anything#AND I’VE ALSO BEEN SPENDING IT literally wishing that i wasn’t alive#or hating myself or hurting myself or sabotaging myself#or straight up not remembering anything because apparently that’s a side effect. a symptom#and i gotta rely on myself more than ever like to be more of an emotional rock than i already have to myself#and so many people who are in my age range are actually doing something or living their lives and i have it pointed out to me all the time#and it feels like it’s all hitting me at once. while i also feel like i still wanna sabotage or hurt#n then i remember that all i’ve really known about myself was the hurt and the concern#n it’s like wow. i really hate myself! i’m not doing shit!#but there are good parts so that’s what matters. and i try and focus on those good parts and then something hits me and then nothing matters#so i really hate this song bc it makes me think. but also i’m not gonna miss this year i almost got put in a psych unit i’m not even joking#anyway. i feel like this will all break me and the pressure will get to me and i’ll be on the floor crying again but also i really should’ve#died when i was born but i didn’t! so that means! something!#so yay 🎉 i’m alive. i should write this all down in a journal#my text#marina atd#she should i release this song bc it’s really that good i can’t take it#Spotify
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