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#to work on my drape (possible some of that will happen tomorrow too) so i can get it mostly finished
zeenimf · 2 months
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Phei of the Wind | Draft 3 Complete
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Hiya all~ It's been a while, but today I've finished the third draft of my fantasy novel Phei of the Wind. As many of you know I've been working on this novel for more than twelve years now, and this is the most definitive version I've ever made. It's still going to be revised and worked upon, of course, but most story beats have now been completed. It's composed of 29 chapters with a hefty 109000 words. I'm writing my thesis this semester, and I realised that I was so close to finishing that I couldn't think about anything else. So I went burn-out mode and wrote some 20000 words these two weeks, and now while I'm sitting in my eco-literature class (which is very interesting but my brain is too obsessed to stop writing), I've typed up the last few words.
So for those who have somehow missed me talking about this, it's a story about Phei, a halfling-harpy who lives in a world above the clouds. She is a priestess of sorts, and she notices that the world is slowly growing pale and empty. When she learns of a possible cause she runs away to the world below the clouds, the world where her people exiled themselves from. There she travels across the lands, figuring out not just what's happening to the world, but what happened to her people as well while meeting a cast of eccentric characters.
As in regards to the third draft, the biggest change is the endpoint. The previous draft ended at a point that made sense for a single novel, but would require another novel to tell the whole story. This new draft doesn't stop there. I shuffled around a lot of things and added some 40k words after that point. I wanted Phei's story to be composed of one big book. It doesn't mean that don't want to tell other stories in this world, but Phei's story is done when this book is done.
So what's next? I'm going to go through the entire book once, since I have a pile of notes that I thought of when writing this draft. And then I want to send the book out to a handful of beta readers. I'll send a post out for that tonight or tomorrow, so keep your eyes peeled if you're interested in that!
And lastly I'd like to thank you all for your nice comments and support! Every time someone commented something nice about the story it kept me going, so I think it may have taken a lot longer without all of you. <3
I'll leave you with a snippet (picking something that has no spoilers was haaaard), and hope you will all have a wonderful day!
xx
The wind causes Phei to lose her grip on time. Hours blow past as Phei glides, effortless. She knows of birds being able to sleep in the sky, and wonders if her people used to glide in their sleep too. Her dream quickly fades when she dashes to the right again, a sliver of upwards current catching her attention. Agile, yet absent-minded, she crosses past the forests until she can see the sands of Iekin edge towards the mountains, there where the narrow peaks and pillars of Sunde come into view. Without the stormy clouds Phei is able to take in the mountain in its entirety. It is a lonely mountain, imprisoned by the hundreds of spikes surrounding it. The evening sun shines over it, making the golden chains draping down all around the mountain glitter in sinful light. Glistering like that, Phei imagines the mountain as almost peaceful. It shows no sign of the great horrors that have been committed at its feet. It is like a passive observer, nothing more, nothing less.
Taglist, let me know if you want to be added / removed!
@ink-fireplace-coffee | @write-the-stars-and-shadows | @henrike-does-writing-sometimes | @ladywithalamp | @chazzawrites | @writingonesdreams | @generalblizzarddreamer | @peepos-prose | @writing-is-a-martial-art | @dahliaornelas​​ | @ofbloodandflowers | @magic-is-something-we-create | @ettawritesnstudies | @47crayons | @inkflight | @thelaughingstag | @writing-with-l | @immunetoliteraryanalysis​ | @strangerays​ | @luerange​  | @snowinks​ | @the-orangeauthor​ | @waysofink​ | @fablewritten​ | @houndmouthed​ | @midnights-call​ | @phantomnations​ | @teriwrites​
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laxmiree · 2 months
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[CN] MLQC Lucien's Lyric Poetry Event Translation (Day 4-6)
⚠️  SPOILER ALERT  ⚠️
This post contains a HEAVY SPOILER for the event that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~
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Lyric Poetry Free SSR Event | Prologue+Day 1-3 | Day 4-6 | Day 7-9 | Day 10-12 | Day 13 (Ice Flowers Date)
Translation under the cut!
✧ [Day 4] ✧
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The rain is pattering outside the window. I quickly open the umbrella and shake it dry. Then, I take out a small packet from my bag, still damp with a few drops of water.
I quietly spread out several rain-soaked flower buds and place them on the table.
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MC: Recently, I've been eagerly anticipating when the flowers along the roadside will bloom...
MC: But today, on my way back, I discovered that many flower buds had been knocked down by the heavy rain.
MC: Do you think these can be preserved as specimens?
Lucien slightly raises his eyebrows, sets down the book he was reading, and then gets up to fetch a towel from the bathroom.
Lucien: Of course, it's possible. However, for long-term preservation, we need to remove excess moisture first.
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Lucien: The same applies here.
With a soft towel draped over my head, he gently wipes away the raindrops that had splattered onto me.
(he's so gentle and considerate :")
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Lucien's post: Although the plan to enjoy the flowers has been postponed, I’ve gained a special decoration as a result.
MC: You’ve received a gift from spring~
Lucien replied to MC: It's you who made it become our collection, so in this light, perhaps you are the spring.
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Lucien’s note: Perhaps next time we can try drip glue craft together and make some more practical "specimens", like matching keychains.
✂———————–
✧ [Day 5] ✧
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I stare at the package in my hand a bit dazedly—an exquisite storage box containing a beautifully patterned small stone.
MC: This is...?
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I look at Lucien with some uncertainty.
Those slender eyes curve into a handsome arc, with a hint of slyness lingering in them.
Lucien: Mineral specimens are also a major category of specimens.
MC: Are you saying this is a piece of crystal?
Lucien: No, it's not.
MC: Then... what rare mineral is it?
Lucien: It's not a rare mineral either.
Lucien: It's just a charming little stone.
Lucien: But when I saw it, you happened to message me at the same time.
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Lucien: That's the happiest moment for me today.
(CATCH ME SOBBING)
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Lucien: The newly opened dessert shop nearby has freshly baked egg yolk pastries.
Lucien: Do you want me to bring back a piece for you?
MC: Yes, please! This shop always has a long line, and I've been curious about it for a while.
Lucien: If it's delicious enough, will it become the specimen we'll work on tomorrow?
MC: What a pity, just a moment ago, that honor already found its recipient.
Lucien: Judging by your tone, it seems I can only patiently await the arrival of tomorrow.
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Lucien’s note: I'm quite certain this is also a kind of specimen. ^^
✂———————–
✧ [Day 6] ✧
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MC: Ta-da! This is today's "specimen"!
I proudly place the small box into Lucien's hands.
Lucien: Does this little fox also hide some mysteries?
MC: Hehe, when Professor Lucien sent the message yesterday, I was aimlessly browsing the internet.
MC: After replying to you, the origami tutorial for this little fox was the first video that caught my eye.
Using the same method as him before, I return it to him intact.
The orange little fox sits obediently in his palm, waiting to move into its new home on the shelf.
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Lucien’s note: Because the little fox is too cute, I always want to secretly take it away from home and move it to my desk at the Bioultima Research Center.
✂———————–
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thestarfilledsea · 2 years
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I've been meaning to ask about the Sleeping Sun AU! Mostly I was wondering if you could describe the different ways specific characters would hibernate. Like, do they have set routines they have gotten accustomed to over the centuries or is it possible someone could just go "eh this is fine" and then just start hibernating whenever and need people to cart them away before they get hurt because they chose the worst place to do so?
This is such a good question!!
Okay so like I mentioned before, there’s a couple of hibernation instincts that overarch above all magic users/demons.
That being the urge to eat a big warm meal, collect soft things and put them into the safe spot you’ve chosen, take care of those around you (especially if they’re younger), and gather shiny trinkets aka important stuff into a pile nearby the safe spot for safekeeping.
And you’ll notice I keep mentioning ‘safe spots’ when talking abt hibernation. A boiled down version is a place where a person/group designate as the place they go to sleep. Before hibernating there, it’s usual to put up a huge amount of protection spells and pillows in it beforehand yada yada
most people feel the urge to hibernate in their safe spots and it feels wrong to not do so. But shit happens. glances at the IKEA incident.
some peoples hibernation is off and sometimes you’re on the run and just have to do it anyways. It sucks but hey, it works.
OKAY ONTO MY FAVORITE BIT!!
What each character is like just before hibernation!
MK
MK ,when faced with hibernation instincts, gets a tad snappy. (“A tad” that’s a lie he turns into a grumpy monster)
All of MK’s sass and annoyance all come boiling up before he hibernates
Macaque says one off thing and MK looks him dead in the eyes and flips him off.
Macaque is appalled.
MK’s also the type to quietly come up to you with glowing eyes, drape himself over you and fully fall into hibernation on your shoulder.
Wukong
HAHAHA
oof
Because of not hibernating for hundreds of years but getting the sleep debt sort of fixed, Wukong has what I call “sleepies.”
Sleepies are what Wukong experiences right before he hibernates due to the previous neglect. (He also does so monthly.)
Wukong gets clumsy, clingy, and borderline territorial. He’s not exactly in his right mind when he gets sleepie, which leads to shenanigans.
Mei
SUN. PUDDLES.
Mei’s dragon instincts start poking around during this time and she naturally wants to find a comfortable amount of warmth to sleep near
One time they found her nearby the sage spot sleeping in a sun puddle.
Pigsy
The man cooks like there’s no tomorrow. Like I said before, a warm meal is one of the instincts you wish to fulfill. And when I tell you that everybody in the house knows Pigsy needs to hibernate before he does.
They have to force him to go sleep some of the time.
Tang
Tang started needing to hibernate after he began using magic more frequently. He had no idea what was happening at first until MK complained about how off he felt just before hibernating. Everything clicked after that.
Tang is usually chill and hibernates with Pigsy every chance he gets.
Sandy
Cat cuddles, pillow fort and tea. he knows how to take care of himself.
Macaque
Okay, so It’s very common for demons to have a slight shift in personality before sleeping and it’s no different with Macaque.
Except that he hates his shift with a burning passion.
You see, before hibernation, Macaque gets skittish. And very much so.
He can’t help it, so he usually hides out somewhere where he can’t be found and waits for the gang to go to sleep normally so he can sneak into the kitchen and get stuff for his hibernation.
Macaque jumps at everything during this time.
He usually slips away to his safe spot no problem during these moment…but most of this AU takes place on a ship. So it’s kind of a no go.
Unlike Wukong’s (who laughs about it with them) nobody ever makes fun of Macaque’s sleepies. It’s too personal to him, too genuine of an insecurity to ever joke about.
Also! Bonus content! Macaque has an IKEA bear that he has with him usually when he hibernates. It helps with the skittishness when he can wrap himself around something soft and bury his face into it until he falls asleep.
(Her name is Night Knight and he loves her a lot.)
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faeintheointment · 2 years
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A New Normal - Part 5
Weeks have become months and my trips to the oversized abode have not abated. Late night conversations led to the cushion and the sweater becoming regular features of my visits. He was becoming more tactile - there wasn’t the fear that I would break if he touched me anymore. Instead of perching on furniture, he would hold be in either one open palm or cupped in two. He would often demonstrate companionable affection with a stroke with a finger or a friendly poke if we made fun of each other as we did in times gone by. There has never been an instance of discomfort or fear due to his size. I never felt as though he would take advantage of the size difference. Picking up was always done respectfully and without unexpected grabbing. It was my favourite place to go and spend time either at home or walking in the gorgeous landscape surrounding his house. Invitations were no longer needed, but if I needed to spend an evening at home for work or just to relax, that was fine too.
Friendship was all that was on the agenda though. I still couldn’t fathom him being able to feel anything else for me. He inspired awe because of his stature - more of him to love - but I had somehow managed to convince (kid?) myself that I had my feelings under control. Or so I thought.
Earlier in the day I’d received some amazing news about a job I’d just been offered doing what I really loved. I wanted to celebrate and I could think of no one else I’d rather share my excitement with. So I picked up a bottle(or two) of my favourite sparkling wine and took myself off to his place. As usual, I was literally swept off my feet upon arrival.
“You don’t usually clink when I pick you up - what’s with the bottles?” he asked, raising a quizzical eyebrow.
"I'll tell you when we sit down," I replied excitedly. “But it is definitely worth celebrating!”
I relayed the story of my news - I’d been given a new role at work doing more of what I wanted to be doing and it offered exciting new challenges. I toasted my success. As the night passed, I drank more of my wine, and I’ll be honest, I was so relaxed and happy I didn’t keep track of how much. It was making me perhaps a little bolder than I would ordinarily have been. To the point of being more flirtatious than usual.
I don’t know whether it was the excitement of the moment, but suddenly he raised me up and pressed me close to his cheek in as near to an embrace as we could possibly get. Then he relaxed and dropped his hand back and looked at me lying in his palm. The suddenness of the movement had caught my breath and I was reclined looking at him in surprise. The look we exchanged was so intense. Almost imperceptibly, it seemed like he was raising his hand towards his lips. My eyes widened - could he have felt for me…? I hoped so…
Just as quickly as it happened, he stopped. His expression suddenly changed to something akin to horror and shame and then to an awkward smile.
“You idiot!” I told myself, “What the hell?! Did you think he was going to kiss you? God if he saw you wanted it, he’s going to think you’re ridiculous!”
I snapped out of my self-reproach and looked at my watch. “Oh god I am such an idiot, I let it get late and I forgot I’ve got to be somewhere early tomorrow!” I had to say something to break the awkwardness even if it was a lie. I just had to get out of there.
“Oh, here - let me take you home - it’s quicker…” he offered. The walk had never been more tense or quiet. When he placed me on the balcony, I made a quick exit, as if every extra minute of sleep I could get was crucial. I watched from behind the drapes that I hurriedly swished shut as he walked away and sighed sadly, feeling like this was the last time I would ever see him.
“What a dolt! Like he’s going to find you attractive like this - you’re doll-sized to him! And now you’ve blown even a friendship by making it weird…”
If I’d had the gift of telepathy, I would have heard something similar from him:
“Oh what a weirdo! She was probably terrified - you’re monstrously large and she’s so small, but so pretty - and now you’ve made it weird. I bet you never hear from her again either…”
Instead, I lay awake, tossing and turning. Filled with anger at myself, and feeling foolish, wondering how to fill a 50 foot void in my life.
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izzy-b-hands · 1 year
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4V
We finally get a little, albeit still not great, Izzy/Ed communication. A weekend sleepover is proposed and accepted, with bonus secret room.
---
"Well, I've got a problem with you too," Stede says. "The way you treat Izzy? Is-"
Ed pulls Stede in for a kiss, and Izzy looks away. That's it then. So much for even trying to convince Ed to turn him and have them take Stede on as a shared familiar.
Stede moans, but pushes Ed away after a moment. "Would you let me talk?"
He turns to Izzy. "And you said that you and him had never had anything. I'm not upset about that, I just want to understand-"
"It never meant anything," Ed interrupts. "Trust me. Even now, it's just...stress release."
Izzy scoffs. "Didn't always seem that way to me."
"Then I'm sorry we've misunderstood each other," Ed says, suddenly hesitant, awkward.
"Your food is in the fridge," Stede says. "I've invited Izzy to mine for the weekend, but I'll make sure that if you call, we come over to help with anything you need."
Izzy blinks. "Your place?"
"Remember?" Stede chuckles. "I do have the kids this weekend, but they're used to the bar staff stopping by to hang out with us now and again. They won't mind making a new friend. That's their mother's influence, I was never good at encouraging that."
Ed nods slowly. "That would be alright. Maybe we need a few days apart."
"It happens to everyone," Stede says. "People need space sometimes! And you clearly need it to get your fucking head screwed back on straight. Otherwise you might lose someone good to you."
"Is that a threat?" Ed smirks.
"Wouldn't you like to know," Stede says icily. "Shame you're this much of an asshole. You kiss well."
"Takes one to know one," Ed frowns. "Izzy. Take your phone, keep it charged, and if I call or text-"
"I think he knows how cell phones work and to pick it up if you call," Stede cuts him off. "Besides, we do have some things planned, so he might not always be checking it 24/7. But we'll be as mindful as possible."
"How generous of you," Ed rolls his eyes. "I guess I'll see you then?"
Izzy nods. "Don't hesitate to call if you need me. For anything."
He expects more anger, but Ed only looks wounded now. And he could swear he sees tears in the corners of his eyes.
--
He dips inside just behind Ed, but they don't exchange another word.
In his room he hurriedly packs some clothes and other bits into his battered suitcase. He can't think straight and knows he's probably forgetting something, but Stede won't mind if they need to pick anything up for him at a store.
He just has a gut feeling about that. It's the kind he used to have so often with Ed, trusting that he could make a mistake or fail and Ed might be frustrated or disappointed, but ultimately it would be fine.
He's not so sure things will be fine this time.
Outside, Stede is grinning waiting for him.
"I'm excited," he blushes. "I know I was hesitant at the bar, but that was just because I do have the kids tomorrow and the day after, and my ex usually doesn't care if I have guests but-"
Izzy kisses him softly. "I can tell you're excited. I'm glad, and grateful, for everything. It's been a lot."
Stede bumps his forehead gently to rest against Izzy's. "Well, I wouldn't do it for everyone, or anyone. But something about you..."
He lifts his head and peers to the house, snorting. "Let's give him a show."
Izzy looks. Ed is watching from the upper window, draped in his favourite robe. It used to be one of Izzy's.
Izzy melts into the deep kiss Stede gives him, dropping his suitcase to the ground to free up his arms.
He wraps his arms around Stede's neck, and as fun as it is, he can't help but feel bad. It would, and had, broken his heart to see Ed in positions like this with other people, like Jack.
Does it hurt the same way for Ed now? Does someone so wildly old, who has witnessed and done so much in one life, still feel those highs and lows as vibrantly?
Izzy wishes he knew. But Ed might never reveal the answer to him. Ed might not even let him back into the house after the weekend, for that matter.
He tucks the question into the back of his mind, and lets Stede take his suitcase and his hand.
--
"This is, uh, it."
Stede leads Izzy into a perfectly respectable, smaller house. "Mary was wonderful about making sure I was put up after we settled everything. Made sure I had enough left to have a roof and pay for it."
He chuckles awkwardly. "I'm kidding; it really was amicable and a two party decision. Don't get married to someone just to please your parents and theirs!"
"Mum's dead; I don't think she cares who I marry," Izzy smiles. "Shame yours and hers put the two of you through that."
"Well, we could have had it annulled right away, but we both felt we ought to at least try," Stede said. "Thank you though. It's been amazing since the divorce, actually. I mean, I've been struggling a bit with realizing that I don't know if I'm actually all that attractive to anyone-"
"Shut the fuck up," Izzy laughs. "You have a mirror."
Stede grins and blushes and Izzy wants to kiss him senseless.
"Here," Stede clears his throat, and gestures onwards. "Shoes o-oh! You already have them off! It's only you and my bar friends that do that right away, anyone else I've had over left them on! Absolutely wild to me, that!"
"We only keep ours on at the house because the floors have seen better days," Izzy says. "And I clean it but...for the sake of one's health, it's safer to keep shoes on. Otherwise we'd have them off."
"I figured," Stede nods. "That whole house has seen better days."
Just like Ed, Izzy thinks to himself, then admonishes himself for the thought.
"Kitchen, living room, linen closet, bathroom here and another downstairs," Stede continues as he leads Izzy through the rest of the house. "The basement has a surprise I think you'll like too."
He takes Izzy down the slightly steep stairs, to reveal what appears to be a mostly unfinished basement.
"Have to hand this to you briefly," Stede says, and gives Izzy back his suitcase.
He kneels down to a rug on the floor, and moves it aside to reveal an ornate dark metal trapdoor.
"What."
"Yeah," Stede grins. "Had it installed after I got settled. Paid extra to have it done faster, but Mary gave me half as my birthday gift this year. I've always wanted a hidden room or passageway, you know?"
Izzy smiles. "Yeah. Did you design it all yourself?"
"Only in decor," Stede replies, and leads down the ladder into the passage. "I'm not good enough at engineering and knowing how it would affect the foundation. I wasn't even sure it was possible, and goodness knows I don't fully understand how it was done. But they did good work."
He reaches up for the suitcase, and Izzy hands it down.
"There must have already been some of this built," Izzy says as he comes down the ladder. "Or it probably wouldn't have been."
"That's what they made it sound like," Stede says. "Here, we can spend the nights down in this room, if you want. I don't think Ed would actually do anything to hurt you, or seek you out like that-"
"His bark is worse than his bite," Izzy interrupts. "Besides, I'm as guilty as he is of occasionally being a bit rough when I shouldn't be. We give each other as good as we get. Probably shouldn't, but..."
"Could be something to work on and work past," Stede says. "But there'll be time to think about that later. For now, he can clear his head, and you yours."
The passage leads to a room, with a mattress that must have barely fit through it.
"One of those new ones that comes all folded up in the box," Stede supplies, as if he can hear Izzy's thoughts. "I don't think I'll be able to get it out of here if I ever move though!"
"Not the end of the world," Izzy shrugs, and tentatively settles down onto the mattress. "It'll be a fun, odd surprise for the next owner."
Stede laughs. "Something like that. Now, there's a cooler down here with drinks and some food, but of course the nearest bathroom is the one on the main level, so that's not ideal. Hopefully not too bothersome for you though."
"You're showing me a secret passageway and hidden room, and you're afraid of disappointing me?" Izzy chuckles. "Come here."
Stede sets down the suitcase, and strips as he goes.
When he's completely naked, he settles onto Izzy's fully clothed lap. His cock is already half hard, and he sighs shakily when Izzy's hands find his bare skin.
"I really can't tell you how much I appreciate everything you've done for me," Izzy says. "Can I try showing you instead?"
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saintlike78 · 3 years
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Flinch [Poly Marauders]
A/N: I’ve been reading a lot of poly Marauders fics and I got inspired to write my own. It’s very different than what I’m used to, and I give 100% credit to @randomoutsiders for the inspiration; please go read their work, it’s so good!
Also, this fic tackles some trauma about domestic abuse, so if this is a trigger PLEASE DO NOT READ. If you are ever abused in a relationship, please remember it’s never your fault and there are so many ways to get help.
International woman’s house crisis hotline (770-413-5557). https://internationalwomenshouse.org/get-help
Pairing: Poly! Marauders X fem!reader
Words: 3.1k
Summary: poly Marauders. You aren’t a stranger to being spanked, but Sirius tries to slap you without talking it through first, him not knowing it brings back past trauma. You’re shocked, but the boys take it as you liking it, so you power through. But the next day you flinch under normal setting, alerting the boys to something being wrong.
Warnings: TW! Mention of past abuse!, NSFW 16+, vaginal sex, oral (male receiving), polyamorous relationship, spanking, face-slapping, mention of subsbace, Dom!Remus, Dom!Sirius, Soft-dom!James, Sub!reader, degradation, praise, mention of cum, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it).
NSFW starts just below the cut!
Tears were streaming down your face as you tried to take Sirius’ cock as far down your throat as possible. Your arms and legs were shaking with the effort of keeping yourself up on all fours, as Remus pounded into you from behind. James was sitting beside you stroking your back and fisting at his own cock trying to reach his own high by watching you get destroyed by his two boyfriends.
Remus landed a firm slap on your ass making you jolt forwards, making you gag around Sirius.
“Such a little cockslut, can’t even take my cock without gagging” Sirius taunts, making you whine around him.
That’s when Sirius decides to try something none of the boys had tried before, he landed a slap across your face, a sharp sting on your cheek, and a red mark starting to form. Your mind was fuzzy, but panic set in and distant memories made their way to the front of your mind.
Right as Sirius had slapped you, your walls clenched around Remus and your eyes widened with panic, but Sirius took this as a look of surprise and assumed you liked it and he was pulled deeper into that thought when Remus spoke “I think she liked that Pads, she’s squeezing me like a vice,” he landed another slap on your ass, “isn’t that right bunny?”
Your mind was so fuzzy with both pleasure and panic you couldn’t do anything but whimper around Sirius.
“Fuck, princess take it” Sirius groaned as he started to twitch in your mouth, his cum filling your mouth, which you swallowed dutifully.
Sirius moved aside and let James stand in front of you and slowly put his own member inside your mouth. He let out a low groan at the feeling of your warm mouth around him and he wasted no time as he started to fuck into your mouth.
Behind you, Remus was rutting faster into you, growing close to his own release.
James was stroking your hair, being the softest of the three doms and keeping you grounded.
Sirius snaked his hand underneath you and found your swollen clit and started drawing fast circles on it, making you moan loudly around James’ cock.
“There you go, cum for us,” Sirius said as he applied more pressure to the swollen nub.
Your whole body shook as you came, your arms almost failing you.
The feeling and sight of you cumming made Remus moan loudly and spill his seed into you. James reaching his own high seconds after. Both boys slowly pumped into you, riding out theirs and your high, and slowly pulled out. As soon as they were out, you collapsed on the bed, your legs twitching slightly as you tried to catch your breath.
James chuckled softly and got up from the bed to grab a washcloth to clean you up.
“Such a good girl, you did amazing for us,” Remus said as he slowly rubbed your back to calm you down. The fuzz in your brain slowly disappearing as James came back and started to clean you, trying to be as quick as possible to not make you uncomfortable because of the sensitivity.
As James was cleaning you, Sirius had gotten up and fetched the four of you some clothes to wear, and helped you put it on.
As the fuzz had completely lifted from your brain, it was replaced with slight panic again, you knew the boys wouldn’t hurt you, but what if they wanted to. You hadn’t discussed with them that they couldn’t slap or hit you, but you didn’t know you had to. The thoughts were swarming around your mind, but you tried to keep calm and collect yourself, you didn’t want them to be mad at you.
“Okay princess, do you want to sleep in my bed tonight?” Sirius asked, opening his arms for you.
“No,” you said way too fast, but quickly added, “I mean, it’s Jamie’s turn.”
Sirius let his arms drop and frowned, “fine, but then you owe me tomorrow night and the next time we nap,” he said.
You nodded and turned to crawl into James’ bed, but were interrupted by Remus clearing his throat.
“Aren’t you going to give us a goodnight kiss, bunny?” He asked with a lifted brow.
You quickly made your way over to the scarred boy and stood on your toes to reach his lips. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, “goodnight.”
Remus kissed you back and wrapped his arms around you, giving your body a squeeze.
“That’s okay, bunny... are you still a little fuzzy? Because we can’t go to bed yet if you are,” he asked, wanting to make sure you were completely back before you went to sleep.
You just shook your head, “I’m fine, I’m here.”
Remus nodded and let you go to Sirius.
Sirius leaned down and gave you a long kiss, you tried to reciprocate, but you stood awkwardly as the raven-haired boy kissed you.
“Goodnight, love you,” you said quietly and quickly.
“Love you too, princess,” Sirius said but was slightly confused as to why you seemed so off.
You quickly made your way back to James, who was now lying under his blanket waiting for you.
As you got under the covers you snuggled close to him and he draped his arm over your waist.
“Goodnight, darling,” James whispered.
“Goodnight, Jamsie,” you whispered back, your voice almost nonexistent due to fatigue.
————————————
You made your way towards the common room after your last class of the day. You had woken up that morning still a bit weird in the head, the panicked state not quite leaving because of you being constantly afraid. You knew that they wouldn’t hurt you, of course, you knew that... but that’s what you thought about him as well, but you had been wrong before.
The last class of the day you had had without any of your boyfriends, so you were now making your way back on your own.
You walked through the portrait hole and made your way up the stairs towards the dorms. Normally you would be heading towards the boy’s dorms, your room basically being with your three boys, but tonight you decided to head towards your own dorm.
Your dorm room was empty, and you were grateful for the opportunity to be alone for a while. You decided to skip dinner and instead opting to grabbing a book and reading it whilst lounging on your bed.
You were so engrossed in your book you hadn’t noticed the time and suddenly the door opened, making you look up from your book for the first time in what felt like forever.
Lily and Marlene walked through the door but following them were the three boys you had avoided (not intentionally).
“Hi,” you said, your voice small.
“Hi bunny, why weren’t you at dinner and why are you in here?” Remus asked, the three boys making their way over to you and sitting beside you on the bed.
“I was reading and forgot about the time, I wasn’t really hungry,” you said as you started to fiddle with your fingers.
“Okay, you know we don’t like it when you don’t eat, but it’s fine... let’s just go to our room,” Sirius said. You couldn’t make out the tone of his voice and it made you nervous, so you just nodded and got off of the bed.
You said bye and goodnight to the girls and followed the boys to their dorm.
You stood in the middle of the room and your heart jumped a little when the door closed.
You started to fiddle with your hands again, a nervous habit of yours.
Sirius stood in front of you with a concerned frown, but you mistook it as an angry frown and dipped your head in submission.
“Princess, you know not to fiddle, and please look me in the eyes when I’m speaking to you, it’s rude not to,” Sirius said.
You lifted your head and looked at his face, you then looked between him and the two boys sitting on Remus’ bed, both looking at the situation unfold.
“I’m sorry,” you said, your voice small.
Sirius just shook his head and lifted his hand to run it through his hair, but you didn’t get to see his hand reach his hair before panic surged through your body, and your flinched, turning your head to the side and closing your eyes waiting for the impact.
You whimpered and a quiet “no” left your mouth.
Both Remus and James stood from the bed, both completely taken aback by what just happened.
Sirius’ hand halted and he dropped it again, his heart dropping to the floor watching your figure crumble in front of him.
You backed away a little, eyes still closed. You had forgotten that you weren’t allowed to flinch remembering it would only be worse when you did.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you repeated, your whole body trembling.
The three boys looked at each other, none of them knowing how to approach this, not wanting to frighten you more than they had.
Sirius was the first to do anything as the guilt took over and controlled his actions before his brain could tell him to stop.
He took a step towards you and wrapped his arms around you, making you jump again and let out a frightened gasp.
“I’m so sorry baby, I wasn’t going to do anything, I would never, please, I’m so sorry,” Sirius spoke, panic clear in his voice.
You collapsed against him, tears streaming down your face as you sobbed into his chest.
Remus and James quickly made their way over to you and wrapped their arms around both you and Sirius, holding you up.
You just kept mumbling almost silent ‘I’m sorries’.
“Shhh shhh, don’t be sorry, what happened bunny?” Remus asked, slowly caressing your back in hopes of calming you down, but you couldn’t answer him just yet.
After a while, your sobs slowly died down and the only sounds to be heard were your soft sniffles.
You lifted your head slowly and looked into Sirius’ eyes, his eyes already staring at your face trying to decipher what had happened.
You didn’t know what to say, the panic you felt before slowly evaporating, instead, you wrapped your arms around Sirius’ waist and squeezed him.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered.
“Stop apologizing, my love, you have nothing to apologize for,” Sirius said quietly, still afraid that he would frighten you again.
“Can we sit down?” You asked, your legs starting to ache from trying to keep yourself up, even if most of your weight was being carried by your three boys.
“Of course, baby,” James answered, and they led you to Remus’ bed where you all sat. Remus sat with his back against the headboard and led you to sit between his legs with your back to his chest. James took a seat beside you with his body turned towards you and took one of your hands. Lastly, Sirius sat crossed-legged in front of you and took your other hand and intertwined your fingers with his, to both comfort you, but also himself as guilt still surged through him.
You caressed Sirius’ hand with your thumb and squeezed his hand, knowing that you scared him with your reaction.
“You don’t have to tell us anything you don’t want to, but we want to listen if you do want to tell us. We just want to help you and we’re not at all angry, we love you and just want you to feel safe with us, we never want you to be scared of us,” Remus started, his arms making their way around your middle to feel as close to you as possible and show you that he’s there.
You let out a long breath, trying to calm down because you did trust your boys and you wanted them to know that they did nothing wrong.
“So,” you started and cursed yourself for the shakiness of your voice, “you know that before I was with you three, I was with Thomas, you know before he moved to America?”
The three boys nodded but didn’t say anything, waiting for you to continue.
“Well.. uhm... we were together for a while, as you know, but he had slight issues with anger,” you continued, your breath still shaking and your voice breaking a couple of times.
Sirius, who was no stranger to people with anger issues, already had an inkling about where you were going. He could feel the anger start to fill his body but tried to keep his cool as you continued.
“He used to... h.h..hit me and he didn’t like it when I would flinch because he said he wouldn’t hurt me, b..but...” you were trying your hardest to get through your story, but your voice was breaking and fresh tears were weighing down your eyes.
“... he did, a lot and I know you guys never would, but it’s just always in the back of my mind.”
Sirius, James, and Remus were all shocked, they had all been friends with Thomas, not good friends, but friendly.
James was speechless, Remus's eyes filled with tears. Sirius was silently fuming with anger over anyone ever laying a hand on you and that’s when he realized he himself did, albeit during sex, but he still did. The anger was quickly replaced with guilt and sadness and all your weird behavior, especially towards him,
now made sense.
Before he had a chance to say anything the tears spilled from his eyes, catching the attention of yourself, James, and Remus.
“I’m so sorry, I would never have done it if I had known, I was so stupid, I should have talked to you about it first,” Sirius cried.
“No, you couldn’t have known! It was my fault for not telling you tha..” you tried to tell Sirius, but you were swiftly interrupted by the man himself. He grabbed your face in his hands and looked you in the eyes, “it was not your fault, never was, it was my fault for not asking you if it was alright before I did it and not even realizing that you weren’t enjoying it,” Sirius stated, making sure that his point came across.
You just nodded and leaned your head further into his touch, making Sirius’ heart skip a beat and he let out a shaky breath of relief.
“Thank you so much for telling us, our darling girl,” James said, stroking your cheek with his free hand.
Remus grabbed your waist and lifted you up, so you were situated on his lap, your side towards him. He kissed your temple and proceeded to say, “please tell us if we ever do anything to make you the least bit uncomfortable and we will stop immediately, we never want to hurt you or make you feel like you can’t talk to us or tell us when something is wrong.”
Sirius continued on from Remus, “we love you so much beautiful girl and again I’m so sorry for scaring you and laying a hand on you.”
“I forgive you; I know you didn’t do it with vicious intent, you only thought I would enjoy it and you couldn’t have known that I wouldn’t. I love you all so much, I’m so happy to have you all in my life,” you said as you leaned your head on Remus’ shoulder, your eyes growing heavy as fatigue took over your body because of all the emotions you felt in such a small amount of time.
“We’re the lucky ones, and lucky for you, you’re stuck with us forever,” James said with a huge grin, causing you all to let out a laugh, knowing that what he said was true. You couldn’t imagine yourself being with anyone else.
“You want to go to sleep, Bunny?” Remus asked, stroking your hair slowly, lulling you into a sleepy state, causing you to yawn.
“Mmhm,” you let out a sound of agreement.
“Okay let’s get ready for bed then,” James said as he got up to look for a shirt of theirs you could wear to sleep.
After having Remus help you get ready for bed and returning from the bathroom back into the room you stopped in the middle of the room, having to choose who to cuddle with that night.
Sirius didn’t want to push you, in your somewhat fragile state, but still very much in need of your comfort and reassurement.
You timidly made your way towards where Sirius was sitting shirtless on his bed and stood between his open legs, his hands instinctively finding placement on your hips.
“Can I sleep with you tonight?” You asked, not knowing why you had gone all shy.
“Of course, you can, our sweet girl, you don’t ever have to ask,” Sirius said and gave your hips a squeeze. His stomach leaping with excitement and relief.
You leaned down and kissed his forehead and left his grasp to kiss both Remus and James goodnight.
Sirius was waiting for you to finish before making his own way over to the two boys to also say his goodnights.
“Don’t worry Sirius, she’s not mad or scared, she was just shocked,” Remus Whispered for only Sirius to hear before he made his way back to the bed where you were waiting for him.
Sirius got under the covers first and opened them so you could slip in.
You laid facing Sirius, his arms around you holding you as close to his body as possible, legs intertwined, one of your hands resting on his chest and the other resting on his cheek.
“I love you so much, I can’t even explain it. If I ever see that horrible excuse for a man I will hex him into oblivion,” Sirius whispered, the first part sweetly, but his whisper got more aggressive as the sentence progressed.
His statement made you giggle; you knew he was being serious (pun intended) and you felt your heart swell with love at how safe you felt with them.
“I love you; I hope we never do see him, but I know I can always count on you, I feel so safe with you.”
Sirius’ eyes filled with tears (again) at your words, it was all he ever wanted.
He gave your body a squeeze and pulled you even closer if that was even possible, and you buried your face in the crook of his neck breathing in his masculine scent.
Sirius’ soft breathing and steady heartbeat lulled you to sleep, and you knew you always would be safe with not only him, but all three of your boys.
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cottonkendi · 2 years
Text
Your Babies | 22
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MASTERLIST
Sano Shinichiro x f!Reader
Word Count: 2.3k
Genre: Idiots to Lovers, Fluff, Crack
Warning: Spoiler warnings
Synopsis: Don’t do it ft. Threats
Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23
a/n: an hour early~ yay~~
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After what seems to be the most awkward dinner you’ve ever had with the Sano family - you still can’t believe you've been working for Shinichiro’s grandfather for more than a month now -, your cousin and the rest of the Black Dragon founders - Keisuke, unfortunately, had to go home with his mother and did not get the chance to interrogate Shinichiro with the rest of the boys - the two of you finally had some alone time to which he had officially asked you out on a date.
“Since tomorrow’s a Saturday, do you wanna... go on a date? With me? I promise you’ll enjoy it.” Shinichiro asks, his hand running through his hair while he tries his best to make eye contact only for his face to explode in different shades of red everytime your eyes meet.
It’s adorable.
After all the chaos that happened in only a few hours, being with Shinichiro, all alone by their garden, feels really soothing. A bubbly feeling grows in your chest as you continue to watch Shinichiro under the moonlight. His skin glistening under the silver light which only makes him look even more handsome. It also makes his dark eyes stand out more, showcasing just how lovely it is.
With only the moonlight illuminating the garden, you don’t notice certain people watching from the door of the house, ears stretched as far as possible in order to hear what the two of you are talking about.
“Of course, I’ll be glad to go on a date with you, Shinichiro.” You confess, eyes unconsciously closing with how wide your grin has become, not at all realizing how the wind had picked up which makes you unintentionally shiver. You’re just too preoccupied with the look of happiness on Shinichiro's face when you answer him. Enjoying the way his eyes sparkle even more, if that was even possible, as he jumps in front of you.
A giggle escapes you when he almost trips on his own feet, arms flailing around as he balances himself. Laughing along at his own mistake, he finally starts to calm down beside you, arm brushing against yours as he looks down on you. “I’m really happy that you’re giving me a chance, Y/N. I promise. I promise that I won’t make you regret ever giving me this chance.”
“You’re making me regret giving you this chance with how much you bring it up, Shinichiro.” You were only teasing him but the way his eyes widened so fast, head whipping to the side in order to look you straight in the eyes as he sputtered out apologies makes you laugh out loud.
“I’m joking! Shinichiro, chill out! I was just teasing.”
After making sure that you were just joking, a big sigh of relief leaves his lips, body sagging a little as he gives you a side-eye. “Don’t play with me too much... please... I don’t think I can handle it if it’s coming from you.”
Suppressing a smile, you bring your hand to his face, freezing fingers pinching his heated cheek as you mutter an apology though you’re cut off when Shinichiro lightly takes a hold of your wrist, thumb caressing the back of your hand before he puts it back to your side as he faces you.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize sooner.”
Before you can answer, Shinichiro’s jacket gets draped over your shoulders, his hands securing the heavy jacket around your figure as he offers you a small smile.
“Oh no, it’s okay, Shinichiro. I’m about to go home anyways, no need for your jacket-”
“No, I’m sorry for not realizing my feelings sooner. It would’ve saved us so much more time if I had known. We wouldn’t have had to skirt around each other for so long.” Hesitantly, Shinichiro takes your hands in his and brings it up to his face as he lightly starts blowing on them, warming up your freezing fingers as the wind becomes stronger.
Offering him a smile, you lightly shake your head. “It’s not your fault, Shinichiro. It’s better late than never, right?”
“I suppose-”
Before he can answer you, the two of you are immediately separated by your families. With Wakasa wrapping you up in his arms and pushing you towards the opposite direction, successfully separating you from Shinichiro who is also being held off by a stern looking Manjiro who’s tightly gripping onto Shinichiro’s wrists.
“It’s getting late, we should head home-”
“But I was still talking to Shini-”
“See you tomorrow, Y/N! I’ll make sure to bring Baji with us!” Manjiro yells out just as Wakasa pushes you out through the gate.
You can’t help but continue to struggle, arms being restrained by your cousin as he nods at Manjiro and the other Black Dragon members who can only watch silently at the two struggling teens, trying their best to get to each other once more. “I’ll text you! Don’t worry!” You hear Shinichiro desperately yell out before being muffled by Manjiro’s hands.
“Wakasa, let go of me, seriously! You’re being such a-”
“It’s late, princess. You still have a date tomorrow-”
Your eyes widen at that before it quickly squints in suspicion. “You are definitely not going with me to my date with Shinichiro.” You sternly tell him as he places you on his motorcycle, lazily handing you a helmet as you fix Shinichiro’s jacket around you.
Giving you a look, Wakasa lets out a shrug. “It’s not like you’ll know I’m there. I’m going to hide with Manjiro somewhere you won’t kno-”
“That’s not what I mean! Wakasa! You’re not allowed to spy on me and Shini-”
“Hold on tight.”
“Wakasa, no-” With that, your cousin speeds his way to your house giving you no time to properly shout your objection to whatever his plan is for tomorrow.
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Huffing, you merely roll your eyes as Wakasa checks your windows, making sure that they’re locked before he finally nods in satisfaction. “Alright then, give me Shinichiro’s jacket. I’ll bring it back to him.”
Scrunching up your brows, you vigorously shake your head, hands gripping onto the jacket with the Black Dragon name on it, holding for dear life as Wakasa tries to rip it away from you.
After a few more seconds of you not budging, your cousin lets out a sigh, lazy eyes boring straight into you in exasperation. “Give me the jacket, Y/N. I’ll bring it back to him-”
“No, I can give it to him myself so just go home and stay home until my date with Shinichiro finishes, okay?” You don’t know why you even bother to ask since you know that he will never listen.
Much like you thought, Wakasa shakes his head at you. “No can do. Just give me the jacket and then I’ll be on my way-”
You cut your cousin off by starting to push him out of the house.
It takes quite some strength from you and a lot of objections from Wakasa but you finally manage to have him standing by the front door even as he tries to stop you. “You need to go home. And.” Handing him his bike keys, you lightly close the door, ready to slam it close the moment he tries to take the jacket from you. “You need to make other plans for tomorrow ‘cause you are not spying on us. Also!” Wakasa almost jumps as you aggressively point at his chest, eyes squinting into a glare. “You will not be giving Shinichiro the talk. I swear Wakasa. If I see a bruise on him tomorrow, I’ll kill you.”
Raising his hands in defeat, Wakasa merely nods at your words. “I hope you’re listening to what I’m telling you, Waka. No bruises. And don’t try to take Shinichiro’s jacket from me. I’ll return it myself.”
Rolling his eyes, he nods one last time, arms raising in order to hug you. “Yeah yeah, you just want to hug it tonight and smell it. Creepy little shit.” You lightly pinch his side as you hug him, not impressed with him insulting you. “It won’t smell good, I’ll tell you that. Shinichiro smokes a lot of cigarettes. You should probably just text him that you don’t want to go on a date with him anymor-”
“Just go home, Waka.”
“Fine, fine. G’night. I’ll head home now, remember to lock your doors, yeah?”
Nodding, you finally let out a sigh of relief when your cousin makes his way to his bike, giving you one last wave before he drives off.
Shaking your head at the fight that he put up, you lock the door shut and head to your room, getting your clothes ready for the night before heading to the bathroom in order to clean yourself before heading to bed.
You’re about to enter the shower when your phone goes off. Immediately, you check the notification, heart pounding when you see that it’s from Shinichiro.
From: Sano Shinichiro
Hey, i’m sorry about earlier. Quite a mess
But im glad you agreed with the date!!1!!
Would you be fine if i pick you up at 9am? I have some plans for tomorrow <33
A smile makes its way to your lips, mind already running with hundreds of different scenarios that could happen as you type in a quick reply.
To: Sano Shinichiro
Its fine dont worry about it :)) and yeah, im good with 9am <3
Putting your phone down, you excitedly go to the shower, already thinking of the many outfits that you should try later for tomorrow’s date.
Unknown to you, your cousin has not gone home.
Instead, Wakasa had made his way back to the Sano household, hands itching to do something that you told him not to do.
Entering through the wooden gates, he’s thankful that Shinichiro’s still outside by the garden, a glimmering grin plastered on his face as he stares down at his phone though he’s quick to look up when he hears Wakasa’s footsteps.
“Wakasa? What’re you doing here? Did you drive Y/N home already?” By now, Shinichiro has stood up from his seat on the patio, a smile thrown at his friend though that quickly gets erased the moment Wakasa raises his leg and gives him a quick kick to the stomach.
Falling to the ground, Shinichiro can’t help but gasp, hands clutching his throbbing abdomen while he tries his best to look up at Wakasa from his kneeling position, the white haired male glares down at him. “Shinichiro. I don’t know if you knew this beforehand but Y/N’s my cousin and I’m not quite fond of boys courting her.”
By now, the commotion has brought Benkei and Takeomi - the two opting to stay a little longer at the Sano house since they wanted to know more about the situation between you and him - out to the garden, the two gaping at the sight of their leader kneeling before their friend who looks ready to throw a punch. “I especially don’t like playboys like you courting her.”
“Wakasa, I swear I’m not-”
“Let me talk or else I might just have to make you shut up, Sano.”
Takeomi makes his way to the two, afraid of what Wakasa might do with the kneeling Shinichiro while Benkei silently follows along. “Wakasa, I think you should calm down-” Takeomi tries to take a hold of the white haired man’s clenched hand only to receive a slap on the face.
“Stay away from this, Takeomi. This doesn’t concern you.” Shivers run down the three males’ spines at the serious look on Wakasa’s face, no hint of a smile or a cocky smirk on his face unlike when they first fought.
He seems more serious now.
“Y/N’s the closest family I have. The only cousin I actually talk to, I treat her as my sister that’s why I’m protective over her which is why I’m telling you this now. If you ever make her cry, or treat her wrong in any way possible, you’ll be receiving worse than that kick, you hear me? I don’t give a damn about Black Dragon or whatever else. If you do anything to her, I will make you regret it.” Taking a hold of Shinichiro’s hair, Wakasa forces him to look him straight in the face which elicits a pained groan from their leader when Wakasa delivers a swift punch to the stomach where he was just kicked.
“You better be glad that she told me to not leave you any bruises or else I would’ve had a field day with you. Y/N better not hear a word about this, got that?” Letting out a chuckle, Wakasa finally lets go of his groaning leader, his eyes now turned to Takeomi and Benkei who look quite tense at seeing their friend turn back to the feared White Leopard that they once fought against back in the day.
Raising a brow at the two who are still stiffly standing in front of him, Wakasa nods his head towards the house. “I think the two of you should take care of little Manjiro over there, I don’t think his big brother can stand up right now.”
At that, the two remaining Black Dragon members whip their heads towards the house where they see the tiny blond staring right at his fallen brother before turning to a retreating Wakasa, his dark eyes wide and sparkling while his mouth turns into a small ‘o’.
“That was so cool... “ Manjiro manages to breathe out, impressed at Wakasa’s cool moves and cool speech.
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heliads · 2 years
Note
Okay so, I know you have a lot of requests right now and you totally don't have to write this but I had this idea for a Nikolai Lantsov x reader where the reader is in a grouchy mood after having a really bad day and they are venting to Nikolai about it. And I mean bad as in; "Nikolai istg, Tolya ate my food and then I fell down the stairs, and this really embarrassing thing happened, ect, ect" and Nikolai is like "Oh really that's horrible" and he just kinda makes fun of her a little but then a few hours later he wakes them up and takes them outside in the middle of the night to watch the stars to make them feel better because he's like "I know you had a bad day but I thought this would help" or something and some kind of cute confession happens! It's just an idea I had and I thought it was kinda cute! (Tbh it sounded so much better in my head and I'm not sure if this makes any sense) sorry if this was way too detailed. ily!
nikolai my beloved <33 ily too bestie!!
masterlist
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It has been one terrible day, even by Ravkan standards. You’d think you’d be happy here, being able to do good work to protect your people as the General of the First Army, and you usually are, but today is an unfortunate exception. In a series of mishaps and mistakes, you’ve quite possibly lost all hope for humanity at large.
Even the surrounding landscape, which usually delights all passersby, seems to have taken on a foul mood similar to the one that cloaks your own shoulders. A low, thick fog has slovenly draped itself over the grounds, swallowing all occupants in a haze of gray. Street lamps do their best to keep the stuff at bay, but even their normally bright lights have been all but snuffed out in the face of nature’s latest apathy.
The crunch of assorted rocks and pebbles under your boots sounds more like small bones breaking as you make your way forward to the Grand Palace. After a long string of meetings with your commanders, which basically revealed that your army is just as malnourished and undersupplied as you’d feared, it’s nice to be able to return to the place that has pretty much become a home away from home ever since you first stepped foot in Os Alta.
You’re greeted at the door by Genya Safin, who, as usual, manages to look utterly charming despite the hair-ruining fog currently creeping inside the palace along with you.
She raises an eyebrow at your appearance. “Has someone else died, Y/N, or is it just another one of those days?”
You grimace at her admittedly accurate appraisal. “Just another one of those days, I’m afraid. If you want, I can find a dead body to excuse it.”
Genya shudders. “I’ll have to decline that offer, I don’t think I can deal with the stench today.”
You can’t help but smirk at her comment. “Neither can I. See you tomorrow morning, I hear we have an early meeting to discuss troop movements near the Fjerdan borders.”
You wave goodbye, grinning at the face Genya pulls at the mention of yet another early morning spent cloistered inside the War Room, trying to figure out how to win a losing battle.
Still, even seeing one of your closest friends isn’t enough to dislodge the permanent dour mood from your mind. Not feeling up to a meal in front of the various dignitaries that constantly pester Nikolai in the hopes of getting something from him, you make a token appearance in the king’s receiving room, talk to the necessary generals, and retreat just as quickly.
You do manage to grab a plate before you go, because if you’re going to be skipping another formal meal, you do at least want to have your supper. You head to your room, unlocking the door and checking your quarters with the level of paranoia that one is forced to adopt when they’re anyone of measure in Ravka.
You fully intend on sinking yourself into war reports and potential treaties for the next couple of hours, but you’ve scarcely sat down for ten minutes before there’s a knock at the door. You allow yourself one moment of glowering at the desk in front of you before giving up and answering the call. It appears that there will be no solitude, not for you.
However, of all the visitors, you’re fairly fond of this one. Nikolai Lantsov, blond king and local troublemaker, is leaning against your doorframe. He takes your arched brow as a welcome inside, and saunters causally inside as if he owns the place. Technically, he does, but you refuse to think of that point at the moment.
Nikolai takes his usual place in your sitting room.. He finds a seat, as per usual, in the one armchair that you personally think is rather hideous. Nikolai seems to adore it, though, which is the only reason it hasn’t been headed to the scrap heap a long time ago.
Once he’s gotten himself situated, Nikolai cocks his head at you. “Trying to escape another dinner, are we?”
You groan, slinking into the chair opposite him. “I’d hoped to, at any rate. Would it be possible for you to be slightly less aware of your surroundings so I can get away with skipping your ceremonies?”
Nikolai shakes his head in mock sorrow. “If I did, my dear general, I think you’d be out of a job because I would have been assassinated. It’s all a part of the job description.”
You give him a look. “You could notice the assassins, not me. I’m sure other kings have managed to overlook their officers before.”
Nikolai grins cheekily, clasping his hands behind his head. “Ah, but I am not most kings. I pride myself on being a trailblazer.”
You smirk in spite of yourself. “And judging by the amount of negotiations that haven’t taken place with Fjerda, I’d say you’re blazing not just trails but bridges.”
Nikolai’s mouth drops open. “Cruel, Y/N. You were supposed to be helping me with said negotiations.”
You reach for the glass of kvas at your side, already poured in the scant few seconds you’d had to yourself before Nikolai came a-knocking, and raise it in a grim salute. “Oh, I know. It appears that the Fjerdans are rather distrustful of even our best attempts at diplomacy.”
Nikolai leans forward slightly in his chair. “Yes, but wait a moment. I know that face, Y/N. Something has happened to dismay my usually chipper general.”
You consider pretending that nothing is wrong, then decide against it. Nikolai has always been able to read you like an open book, something that both infuriates and intrigues you, depending on the day. It’s especially irritating because despite the fact that Nikolai can seemingly tell a shift in your emotions from the slightest change in your poker face, you can never get a read on him.
“A couple things happened. Nothing major.”
Nikolai sighs theatrically. “Y/N, my dearest commander, if I thought you were holding something back I would be grievously disappointed, and also robbed of any possible entertainment for the evening. I have skipped out on my own supper to check in on you, after all, and I feel that I should then have the right to hear whatever it is that you’re holding back.”
To prove his point about a lost supper, Nikolai leans forward and seizes a rye roll from your plate. He holds it up with an air of grave concern. “This is my hostage until you spill your secrets.”
You press a hand to the bridge of your nose, although it’s mainly to suppress a grin. “There’s no use in pretending you’ll return it, I know that roll will have disappeared by my second sentence.”
He smirks, tearing the aforementioned sacrificial roll in half. “You couldn’t be more right. I love that you can see through my bluffs.”
“Only roll-related bluffs, moi tsar. You could sell me a jar of cheap petrol and have me convinced it was liquid gold.”
Nikolai looks pleased to hear this. “I appreciate the testament to my skills in deceit, but it won’t be enough to distract me. The things that went wrong today, if you will?”
You fish around for some kind of excuse, but it’s no use. Besides, you have been rather wanting to rant all day, so you don’t entirely want to shoo away your willing audience.
“I think it’s better to ask for what didn’t go wrong. First of all, I couldn’t fall asleep for hours, so I got no sleep until long past dawn. As a result, I overslept, and even though someone tried to save me a plate from breakfast, Tolya ate it. When I confronted him, he just recited some ancient verse about how fasting can save both the soul and the stomach. He wouldn’t even apologize.”
“After that, I had to go meet with those awful Kerch diplomats for what was supposed to be a thirty minute meeting, and I ended up being there for two hours. They wouldn’t stop haggling about the proper tax on imports, and their lowest amounts were far too high anyways. Later, I was trying to get through the Grand Palace, and I think I was so dizzy from a lack of food and proper company that I literally fell down the stairs. Thankfully, no one saw, but I knew, at any rate.”
“Also, none of my troops want to follow my orders, and all the West Ravkan commanders are trying their hardest to break away again. I’ve had to send several cruel messages but I think I’m going to have to go visit their camps myself to maintain order. All that, and I’m not even sure it’s worth anything, because the second I make a decision on troop movements, the Grisha Triumvirate decides that we should do the exact opposite. I love them, but I’m at my limit, I swear.”
The words come out in a tidal wave, and although you were never intending to say that much, it is nice to have it all out. Nikolai stares at you for a moment, as if processing all of the information you’ve just thrown at him, and then the corners of his mouth start to twitch up.
“Tolya quoted poetry to make up for stealing your breakfast?”
You gesture irritably at him. “Yes, and now you’re stealing my supper to make up for it, I suppose. If you’re just going to make fun of me, you can see yourself out of my chambers. I’m not in the mood for witty banter.”
Nikolai manages to tamp down the renegade parts of his smile, although you can see it glinting in his eyes even afterwards. “Ah, love, don’t take it too seriously. I think I would consider violence if the same thing happened to me. I have to silently chant the statistics of David’s labs in Lazlayon over and over in my head to distract myself whenever Tolya corners me to talk about some epics.”
You regard him suspiciously. “You do?”
He nods fervently. “It’s happened many times, which makes it no easier. If I could send you strength, I would, but I would never dare to assume your current fortitude is anything less than perfect, despite your trip down the stairs.”
You glare at him, but you’re interrupted by the chime of a clock over your mantle. Nikolai glances towards it, grimacing.
“I fear I have to leave you to your musings. I’m supposed to be meeting with Zoya over a new budget addendum for the Little Palace.”
You raise your glass again, and Nikolai takes his leave. You can’t deny that you feel more alone when he leaves, especially at the thought of where he’s going. You can admit that you’ve been thinking of Nikolai more than you should as of late, and you do know that half the palace has assumed the Lantsov king and his fearsome Squaller general are already a couple.
You take a drink of your kvas, and even the burn of it against your throat feels normal now, no different from usual. You love Zoya, and have long been able to smile at her pointed remarks, but you do envy her for the fact that she likely has Nikolai’s heart firmly in her hands.
You decide to go to bed early, although it’s not like it makes much of a difference. You still can’t fall asleep, and spend another hour lying in bed staring at your ceiling until a knock comes again at your door.
You slide your legs out from underneath the covers, slipping on shoes and grabbing a jacket to settle around your shoulders while you answer your caller. You’ve long learned that midnight calls are never good, so you can at least hope that nothing has gone drastically wrong.
However, when you cautiously open the door, Nikolai is looking back at you again, just as chipper as before despite the late hour. He extends a hand to you.
“I haven’t woken you, have I? Come with me, please.”
You stare at him, although you do take the offered hand out of reflex. “Has something happened?”
Nikolai reaches behind you to shut the door. “No, nothing. There’s just something I want to show you.”
You arch a brow, but say nothing. Nikolai seems quite pleased with himself, so at least this late-night rendezvous isn’t a sign that something has gone terribly wrong. Nikolai escorts you out of the Grand Palace, careful to avoid maids and guards who might spin fictitious tales about why the king and his general would be seen wandering the halls together at such a late hour.
Nikolai doesn’t stop his brisk pace until you’re outside and in the gardens, sneaking past hedges trimmed by the cold night air and flowers bending under the weight of moonlight threading their petals with silver. Lone spiderwebs, already touched by dew, trace pearlescent strands across windows as you walk.
At last, Nikolai stops by a bench in a clearing. The flowering trees and fruit bushes have all stopped a couple of yards back, allowing the night sky to flow into the resulting gap in the branches. Nikolai releases your hand so you can take a seat on the wrought iron frame, although you miss his touch as soon as he does. Thankfully, the bench is just small enough that your shoulders gently press against each other, so you do not yearn for his warmth.
Nikolai turns his head up towards the sky, smiling as he sees it. “I love coming out here on difficult days, such as the one you just had. You can see the stars for miles.”
You follow his gaze, and gasp quietly at the sight. You don’t think you’ve had the chance to truly study the sky in quite some time, too preoccupied with making sure the very earth doesn’t fall apart underneath your feet, but the constellations have missed your absence keenly. It looks as if some great hand has flung a necklace of silver beads out into the sky, and stars formed of those long-gone pearls.
“It’s beautiful,” you manage, lost in the astral world unfurling before you. “I haven’t had time to appreciate that recently.”
When you are finally able to tear your gaze from the stars, you realize that Nikolai has stopped considering the sky, and is instead studying you with equal fervor. The moonlight has blanched his curls, making the usual golden strands look bone white. You envy it for being able to touch his face with such depth. Who is the light to come so close to him?
Nikolai seems to regard you with the same delight, though. You can feel his eyes on you, and are suddenly aware of how you look, the fact that your hair is loose from its typical army regulation style. You’re still in your nightclothes, after all, and your jacket has slipped from your shoulders to reveal your throat and collarbone. It’s highly improper, but from the way Nikolai looks at you, you could be dressed in the finest fashions all of Ravka has to offer.
Slowly, he speaks again. “I haven’t taken anyone else out to see this. Only you.”
Only you. Saints, the things you could imagine with that phrase.
“I don’t know that anyone else has shown me anything of quite this splendor. Only you, as well.”
A soft smile touches Nikolai’s lips. “Would it be rude of me to say that I’m glad of it? I have been for a while. I have problems in which I am deeply envious of every soldier who gets to greet you, of every nobleman who is allowed to dance with you at galas. If I could, I would never leave your side, nor say a word that wasn’t your name. I am in love with you, my esteemed general, perhaps more than is wise.”
You have never been able to read Nikolai as well as he reads you. Still, in this moment you can tell that he is telling the truth, and veracity drips from every syllable.
Your lips part, and a moment later you manage to answer him. “There is nothing wise about what I feel for you. That was the worst part of today, I think. I saw you but I didn’t know that you could be mine.”
Nikolai’s hand raises, tilting your chin up so you can face him. “But I am yours, love. There is no part of me that would not gladly be yours.”
Some part of you was expecting his kiss, yet it still comes as a surprise. Maybe it’s because the kiss is the confirmation that this is actually real, actually happening, that it isn’t merely a blissful dream after a long and tumultuous day. Regardless, it is quite possibly the best thing yet to happen to you. You think you could spend the rest of your eternity out here in this moonlit garden, still and quiet save for the beating of your heart. Perhaps, indeed, you will.
grishaverse tag list: @rogueanschel, @deadreaderssociety, @cameronsails, @aleksanderwh0r3, @story-scribbler, @retvenkos, @thatfangirl42, @amortensie
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theteasetwrites · 2 years
Text
The Beginning Is the End Is the Beginning
Chapter 48: Retrouvailles
❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader ❧ Era: Season 7 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: mild swearing, nothing else really ❧ Word Count: 5.6k
❧ In This Chapter: You begin planning your rescue mission, though you don't get too far when Daryl unexpectedly returns home. Reunions continue as everyone gets together at the Hilltop to discuss the next course of action with the Saviors, and a new potential ally comes to the surface.
❧ A/N: First chapter of 2022, and Daryl comes home! Of course, Reader is beyond overjoyed, and now that he's back it's time to kick some Savior ass. I loved writing their little reunion, and any chance I can incorporate Reader using a book as a weapon I will take it (even if it's her accidentally hitting Daryl with said book).
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The dark blanket of night draped over Alexandria heavily after the Saviors spilled blood in the streets.
When you left Aaron so he could get some rest, you immediately went home and rummaged through your study.
Luckily, it was the room the Saviors had touched the least when they raided your house, so you still had your desk and notebook.
Scribbling down ideas, you brainstormed your rescue of Daryl.
Carl secretly gave you a hand-drawn map not long after the incident that afternoon. It mapped out every nook and cranny of the Sanctuary as far as Carl knew, and he made special indications of the armory and the cells where Daryl was being kept.
You moved your eyes frantically between the map and your notebook, on which you were outlining the process like it was a master’s thesis.
You circled every potential weak spot and used a bright red marker to trace a path that would intersect the armory and lead you to the cells.
Soon, you had the plan pretty much laid out, you just needed to find guns.
Initially, you figured you could take out a few Saviors on guard duty and take their weapons, but that was risky. Instead, you planned to go out tomorrow and look for weapons.
You went over the plan repeatedly in your head as you imagined the Sanctuary in your head. Maybe if you were lucky, you could kill Negan.
“This could work,” you said to yourself.
You didn’t want to take out every Savior—that would be impossible. You wanted to get in there as quietly as possible and rescue Daryl, that was your priority. If you happened to kill Negan in the process, without making too much noise, it would be a miracle.
“It won’t work,” Daryl’s voice came to you.
You rolled your eyes and looked up at the figure of Daryl, still looking like he just rescued you from that walker in the woods by the quarry.
“What do you know?” you asked, knowing full well this image of Daryl was more you than it was him. “I can do it… possibly.”
Daryl pushed aside your notes and sat himself down on your desk, swinging his legs up and criss-crossing them as he faced you.
“You don’t even have a knife, (Y/N).”
“I’m going out to get guns tomorrow,” you replied. “I’m really not in the mood for this, so if you could beam yourself back into my subconscious, that’d be wonderful.”
Daryl smirked. “Can’t do that,” he said. “Not until I know you ain’t really gonna do this.”
You sighed. “I can’t let him live like that anymore.” You were trying not to address the hallucination as Daryl, though it was tempting. “It’s bad enough that I let it happen in the first place.”
Daryl raised his eyebrow. “You let it happen?”
“I should’ve tried harder,” you said. “I should’ve done something more to make him stay, not… yell at him like I did.”
Daryl shook his head. “What are you always tellin’ me, huh? That I can’t look back on that shit and think of the things I coulda done or shoulda done. It happened, and there’s nothin’ you can do to change that, angel.”
“But I can make it right,” you replied. “I can… help him. I have to try. I know it’s a long shot, but I can’t live another day knowing that they’re hurting him.”
He lifted himself up from your desk and knelt down in front of you, looking up at you with loving eyes. “Told ya, (Y/N), I’m comin’ back for ya. You just stay put, ‘cause I’m on my way.”
You closed your eyes and sighed. “There’s no way you could know that. You’re not Daryl, you’re a… projection of Daryl.”
He shook his head and smiled at you, that same smile he could only ever give to you. “Maybe you made me,” he said. “But that don’t change the fact that I love you, and that I’m always with you. Stop fighting what you know is true—I’m here.”
The image faded abruptly when you heard the distant sound of a motorcycle engine revving.
It seemed to be coming from beyond the walls, and it initially terrified you as you thought it was the first in a caravan of Saviors coming to torment your community again, but when a few minutes passed and the lone sound of the engine was the only one for miles and miles, you knew it wasn’t them.
It was a familiar sound—unique in that it was a hodgepodge of dissonant whines and whirs and growls that seemed to be coming from multiple different breeds of engines, but was decidedly coming from just one mechanical contraption.
There was only one bike in the world that sounded like that.
You nearly began to shiver in your seat as you sat there listening to the steadily approaching sound, ever becoming louder and louder, its one-of-a-kind quality becoming even more prominent.
I’m hallucinating again, you told yourself. That’s not real, he’s not here. If it is real, it’s that son of a bitch… Dwight. He took his bike. Daryl’s not here.
The lungs in your chest ceased to fill with air when you heard the front door open gently. Your eyes widened, and you were both afraid and skeptical, yet somehow intrigued.
If this was your mind playing tricks on you again, you were more creative than you ever thought.
Lifting yourself up weakly, you grabbed a nearby encyclopedia to use as a weapon, as you were wont to do.
Slowly pulling the door open, you made your way onto the second floor landing and began stepping down the staircase, your vision impaired from the opaque blackness all around you.
You swallowed hard, holding your book up and ready to throw it or slam it down on the intruder’s head if you needed to.
When you reached the bottom of the stairs, there was no one around. The living room was empty, but you still needed to check the kitchen.
Turning around slowly, you began to step forward until a dark figure before you suddenly appeared and blocked your way.
You yelped in surprise and didn’t hesitate before weakly hitting the intruder on the head with the thick book.
“Jesus Christ!” he yelled.
The book fell to the floor with a thud, and the broad figure began scratching his head where you hit him.
You reached behind you and switched on the light.
You were sure the figure spoke in Daryl’s voice, but you were also sure you had been hallucinating a lot lately, so you didn’t fully believe it was Daryl when the light illuminated him.
He blocked his eyes with his hand as he adjusted to the harsh light, then blinked several times before immediately picking you up and holding you tightly in his arms.
You felt him nuzzle his head into your shoulder, and the fabric of your blouse became soaked in tears not longer after.
He whimpered and groaned into your neck. “(Y/N),” he sobbed, lacing his fingers through your hair.
You tentatively wrapped your arms around his back, gently rubbing your fingers on the fabric of the unfamiliar flannel he was wearing. Your eyes were wide and you rested your chin on his shoulder, still completely unsure if he was real.
It didn’t matter, though, because you couldn’t help but burst into tears, too, and squeeze him against you so tightly you thought you heard one of his ribs pop.
“Daryl,” you sobbed, clinging to him for dear life until the two of you seemed to somehow lose feeling in your legs and you were both holding each other on the floor, two blubbering messes rocking back and forth as one.
The two of you were like that for a while. You weren’t sure how long, but it felt like it could have been centuries, until Daryl lifted his head and loosened his grip on you just a bit to face you.
“What the hell did you hit me with?” he asked.
You sniffled and looked at him dumbfounded until you remembered that you did, in fact, hit him in the head with an encyclopedia.
“Oh, God,” you practically whimpered. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know it was you.”
Daryl turned around for a moment, his arms still around you as he looked at the large book now on the floor.
“You hit me with a book?”
You nodded, still crying and wiping away your tears. “I’m so sorry,” you repeated, holding his face in your hands and looking at it closely.
There was no doubt in your mind now that he was real. He was too detailed, and he didn’t have the blurry edges like the hallucinations did. His voice was much clearer, too, and he looked just like he did when you last saw him, aside from how filthy and bruised he was.
“Oh, Daryl, I’m so sorry,” you said again. “I’m sorry for hitting you, and I’m sorry for calling you an asshole, and for letting you go that day, and for being a bad wife, and for not rescuing you, and—”
“Hey,” he said, his comforting gravelly voice sending its usual vibrations through your body, “you got nothin’ to be sorry about. This all happened ‘cause of me. I’m the one who’s sorry.”
You pushed the stray strands of his hair back behind his ears, and you watched as a few small tears trailed down his face, and his gestures began to distort from crying.
“Shoulda listened to ya,” he began to sob. “Never shoulda left you. I’m sorry.”
You cried and pressed your forehead to his. “Stop,” you said. “You’re alive, and you’re home.”
Daryl nodded, and sniffled before speaking. “You ain’t a bad wife,” he said. “You did everything you could. I'm a bad husband.”
You shook your head vehemently. “No, you were just not thinking straight. I understand. We’re good.”
Daryl pressed his lips to yours gently, and you returned his kiss gladly, moving your lips slowly against his.
You hadn’t even fathomed how much you missed his kisses. It was so sweet and full of passion, you could hardly keep yourself from opening your lips and tonguing at him until he opened his mouth and allowed his tongue to meet yours.
The two of you melted into each other, and your hands were pawing at each other desperately. Any ounce of energy you had left, you poured into that embrace. When you separated from each other, you didn’t have any more energy to speak of.
Daryl took a good look at your face, and his lips turned into a worried frown. “Have you slept at all?” he asked.
I must look like shit.
You sighed. “No, not really.”
The understatement of the century. You hadn’t slept since he was taken, so about five days without sleep. You weren’t about to tell him that, though. He hated when you didn’t get enough sleep.
“Kind of hard when they took our bed,” you added.
Daryl looked around at the house, and noticed that most of your things were gone. “Bastards,” he growled. “Didn’t think they’d take this much.”
“They took more from our house than the others,” you said. “Even my clothes.”
Daryl pulled you into his arms again, forcing you to snuggle your head into his chest. “I’m gonna kill ‘em,” he said. “This ain’t no way to live.”
You nodded in agreement, then stood up with him as he lifted you both off the floor. He stepped away from you and held you by your arms. “You’re gonna sleep tonight,” he said matter-of-factly.
Sure, you didn’t have a bed, but you had a couch still, so that’s where the two of you slept. It was a tight squeeze, but it was nice to be so close to Daryl again.
He was still filthy and covered in sweat and grime, and you wanted nothing more than to scrub him with a wire brush, but he was exhausted, and so were you.
With Daryl spooning you in nothing but his boxers, and a warm plush blanket covering you both, you weren’t far from dozing off, until you remembered something you needed to ask him.
“Daryl?” you said quietly, in case he was already asleep.
He wasn’t.
“Yeah?”
You turned around in his arms to face him, and frowned at the purple and red bruises all over his face. “What did they do to you?”
Daryl swallowed hard and looked at you for a moment, gauging what you needed to know, if anything at all. He didn’t want you worrying about what happened to him, or getting upset. He could tell you were more sensitive than usual that night.
“Just… locked me in a room.”
He was quiet again for a while.
“Did they hurt you?”
He shook his head. “No,” he lied. The evidence was on his face, he knew that, but he refused to admit they hurt him. “Wanted me to be like them, work for Negan. Couldn’t do it.”
You nodded. “I know,” you said. “You’re too honorable.”
Daryl closed his eyes and scoffed. “You mean stubborn.”
You smiled. “No, I mean honorable… and good.”
Daryl was quiet again, and pulled you into his chest, almost squeezing all the air out of your lungs. You liked it, though. There was no better feeling in the world than being held tightly in his arms.
“I saw bad things,” he said. “Negan… burned a guy’s face with a hot iron… walked around makin’ people kneel for him like he was God. He makes these girls sleep with him jus’ so their guys don’t get the iron.”
“He… he killed Spencer today,” you said. “Sliced him in the middle, and let his… guts fall out onto the street. In front of everyone.”
Daryl gulped, and rubbed your back comfortingly.
“Then he had one of the Saviors kill Olivia, because Rosita shot at him. Aaron was beaten, too. I had to watch…” You trailed off at the thought, and felt a familiar lump in your throat. You began to cry quietly into Daryl’s chest. “Why are there people like Negan?”
Daryl pulled you even closer and kissed your hairline, then buried his hand in the soft tresses of your hair as he rocked you back and forth. “‘Cause the world was made for ‘em… they go around, killin’ people, takin’ what don’t belong to ‘em, then don’t feel a thing. It’s easy, like… like they can get away with it ‘cause everyone else’s afraid. Then they keep on doin’ it, ‘cause no one fights back.”
“Like a bully,” you said.
Daryl nodded. “Yeah, exactly.”
Daryl knew all about bullies, he was bullied practically from the moment he was born, whether it was his father, his brother, or the kids at school, he was always made to believe he was worthless, or that he couldn’t fight back.
“We’re going to stand up to them, right?” you asked.
“Yeah,” he said. “We gotta.”
“I don’t think Rick wants to,” you said. “He—he wants to just keep giving them stuff and hope they leave us alone. But I don’t want to live in fear.”
“Me neither,” he said. “Rick’s gonna have to wake up. Don’t matter how much we give ‘em, they ain’t ever gonna leave us alone, not after what we did at the outpost.”
You sighed. “I just don’t want anyone else to die.”
“People are gonna die, (Y/N). But it ain’t gonna be us. It’ll be them. We’re goin’ to war.”
That night you were sure you slept more soundly than you ever had. Maybe it was because you spent so long lying awake at night, thinking about Daryl, but you thought it was the best sleep you ever had nonetheless.
When you woke up, Daryl was still holding you, in such a deep sleep that the rumble of his chest as he lightly snored sent gentle vibrations through your back.
You slowly removed his arm from around you and placed it softly by his side, all the while sitting yourself up and tucking him in before giving him a light kiss on the forehead.
He mumbled a little, something unintelligible, and stirred in his sleep with a concerned look on his face. He even looked serious when he was sleeping. It was so cute.
Though there wasn’t much food in Alexandria now, you were determined to make a real breakfast for Daryl. Well, reheat it, anyway. You still had leftovers from Bev’s casserole, so you stuck it in the oven for a while to warm it.
Once it was done, you let it sit in the oven to retain its warmth until Daryl awoke. Heading upstairs, you stripped and prepared to take a shower, holding your hand under the stream to test the temperature.
Before you could step in, you felt Daryl’s hands on your waist. It didn’t startle you, though, you were too happy for it to.
You turned around and smiled softly at his still sleepy face. “Good morning, sleepyhead.”
He grumbled at the nickname and let you take his face in your hands and give him an Eskimo kiss. “How’d you sleep, honey?” you asked him sweetly.
Daryl stretched his arms over his head and blinked his tired eyes. He must’ve woken up just seconds ago. “Better than I have in a while,” he mumbled. “That couch is more comfortable than I thought.”
You ran your hands through his hair, pushing it back so you could see all of his face. You relished in every nook and cranny, every crevice and blemish, every worry line that settled in his perpetually tanned skin. If you looked past the now slightly more faded bruises, you could see the very same Daryl you first met back at the quarry, the one you saw in your sleep-deprived hallucinations.
“Are you going to take a shower with me?” you asked with a raised brow, noticing he was completely naked now.
He shrugged and rubbed his face, still trying to wake up from his deep slumber. “Yeah,” he said. “Probably stink, huh?”
You giggled and shook your head. “No,” you said honestly. He didn’t really stink, he was just a bit mustier than usual. “But you’re dirty… and your hair’s greasy…”
Once Daryl was in the shower with you, you didn’t hesitate to begin lathering his hair with shampoo, furrowing your brow and absent-mindedly biting your lip a little as you focused on the surprisingly difficult task.
“God, it’s all tangled,” you said. “And you’ve got split ends… you need a trim.”
“Thought you liked it long,” he said.
You tilted your head. “Well, I do, but it needs a little trim to keep it healthy.”
After you let the conditioner set, you moved on to scrubbing him with a washcloth and a heavy glob of homemade vanilla sugar scrub. Though you tried not to look at the profusion of bruises and lacerations on his body, and the bullet wound that was still healing on his shoulder, you couldn’t help but produce a worried frown with each pass of the cloth by the wounds.
“I’m going to kill them for hurting you,” you blurted out, taking Daryl’s arm and scrubbing it gently to wash away the built up grime. “You didn’t deserve this.”
You were so incensed from looking at Daryl’s injuries that you didn’t even notice he’d started to rub shampoo into your hair. “Don’t matter what I do or don’t deserve,” he said. “Sometimes thought I did deserve it.”
You looked at him sternly. “Don’t you ever say that. You don’t deserve anything bad. You’re a good person.”
Daryl stopped massaging your scalp and looked down at his feet. “I got Glenn killed,” he said, his voice starting to break. “I—I attacked Negan… and that pissed him off, made him take out Glenn… when he shoulda just taken me out.”
You grabbed his chin and made him look at you. Your heart broke from the sight of him sobbing and whimpering. Even under the stream of water from the shower, you could tell his face was soaked in his own tears.
“No,” you said. “It wasn’t your fault. There was no way you would have known he was going to react like that. What happened happened because Negan is a psychopath. It’s not a reflection of you.”
Daryl shook his head, and you pulled him into you, hugging him tightly against your body. He rested his hands on your back and cried into your shoulder. “I gotta kill him,” he said. “For Glenn… and Maggie… and their baby.”
You nodded, and tears of your own began to form. “I know, honey,” you said calmly. “You will… you’re strong, and you came back all on your own. You can do anything.”
Daryl scoffed. “Not anythin’,” he said. “But I’ll try… for you, and everyone else.”
When both of you were clean and returned back downstairs to have breakfast, Daryl still wrapped up in a plush bathrobe you made him wear, a knock came at the door.
You urged him to stay seated as he shoveled casserole into his mouth, and you opened the door to find Rick. He had a determined look on his face, and if you read it correctly, you knew he had a plan.
After an emotional reunion with Daryl (and a snarky comment about the very feminine bathrobe he was wearing), Rick informed both of you that he wanted you to join him and the others on a trip to the Hilltop to discuss a campaign against the Saviors.
It was exciting news. You had previously thought Rick was not interested in fighting the Saviors, but something seemed to change his mind.
As soon as he left, you laid out Daryl’s clothes, a long-sleeved black button-up shirt, that he probably would have cut the sleeves off of if he had the time, and a pair of jeans.
Knowing that you needed to look somewhat “tough” to engage in war negotiations, you wore khaki utility cargo pants and a white button-up blouse. The outfit made you look more like an archaeologist than a warrior, but it was better than a skirt, you surmised.
As soon as you both stepped out of the house, Daryl was bombarded with hugs and greetings from Carl, Michonne, Rosita, and Tara. You didn’t want to tease him, but you were sure you saw a slight blush on his face from all the attention he was getting. Even several Alexandrians, including Bev, gathered around to welcome Daryl. You knew then that he was, in fact, a beloved member of the community, whether he liked it or not.
Joining Jesus, who helped Daryl escape from the Sanctuary the day before, at the gate, everyone piled into a large cargo van, and you joined Daryl on the back of his bike. If you were going to fight the Saviors, you were going to need help from the Hilltop.
It was another joyous reunion when you reached the Hilltop’s gates. Maggie welcomed you all with open arms. It seemed she had become a valued member of the Hilltop’s community, along with Sasha and Enid, who also greeted you.
You practically sobbed when you met Maggie’s bear hug, rocking each other back and forth and smiling like old best friends. You asked how the baby was, and to your relief the baby was just fine.
Sasha also greeted you with a long hug, and everyone seemed much happier than they’d been in a long time. It was a beautiful moment, at the foot of the Barrington House, amongst old friends who were more like found family.
Things got a bit grim, however, when you all found yourselves in Gregory’s office attempting to convince him to let the Hilltop join the fight against Negan and the Saviors. Perhaps unsurprisingly considering how spineless you knew the man to be, he was not on board.
“No! No way in Hell,” Gregory exclaimed. “That was not the deal. You people swore you could take the Saviors out and you failed. So, any arrangement we had is now done—null and void. We aren’t trade partners, we aren’t friends, and we never met. We don’t know each other. I owe you nothing. In fact, you owe me for taking in the refugees at great personal risk.”
“Oh, you were very brave staying in here while Maggie and Sasha saved this place,” Jesus said sarcastically. “Your courage was inspiring.”
“Hey, don’t you work for me, aren’t we friends?” Gregory asked him.
“Gregory,” Rick said, “we already started this.”
“You started it.”
“We did,” Rick retorted. “And we’re gonna win.”
“These are killers!” Gregory exclaimed.
“Is this how you wanna live? Under their thumb, killing your people?” Rick asked.
“Sometimes we don’t get to choose what our life looks like,” Gregory responded. “Sometimes, Ricky, you have to count the blessings you have.”
“How many people can we spare?” Maggie asked. “How many people here can fight?”
“We?” Gregory asked. “I don’t even know how many people we have, Margaret. And does it even matter? I mean, what are you gonna do? Start a platoon of sorghum farmers? ‘Cause that’s what we got. They grow things. They’re not gonna wanna fight.”
The conversation went on like that for a while, with several of your group barking back at Gregory, trying to get him to understand that this needed to be done.
Despite Gregory’s refusal to participate, several of the citizens of Hilltop did agree to fight for the cause. Well, to be trained up to fight for the cause, first.
It was a small start, but a start nonetheless.
“It’s a start,” Michonne said, echoing your own thoughts as the eight of you made your way back to the gates.
“We’ll get more,” Sasha said. “It still won’t be enough.”
“No, it won’t,” agreed Rosita.
“Well,” Daryl said, “we find the right stuf, then maybe we don’t need the numbers. Blow ‘em up, burn ‘em to the ground.”
“You said there weren’t just soldiers with the Saviors,” Tara argued. “That there were workers there. People who didn’t have a choice.”
“We gotta win,” Daryl replied.
“We need more hands,” Rick said. “Another group. Negan has outposts. The geography, the distance works against us. We gotta get back. If they come looking for Daryl, we need to be there.”
That was something you hadn’t even thought about—the Saviors looking for Daryl. Yet another thing to be terrified of; the idea that Daryl could be taken back there, and tortured once again.
“You don’t have to get back,” Jesus said. “Not yet.” He held up a walkie talkie. “It’s one of theirs. Long-range. We can listen in, keep track of ‘em.”
“So, if we’re not going back, what are we doing then?” asked Michonne.
“I think it’s time we introduced you to Ezekiel—King Ezekiel,” Jesus said with a smile.
You all looked at him incredulously.
“King?” Rick asked.
As usual, Daryl was hesitant to bring you to see this “king.” It didn’t take him much convincing, though, since you broke out your doe eyes and reminded him that you had been separated for almost a week, and that you weren’t going anywhere without him.
That was how you all got to the Kingdom.
It was a large place, not unlike Alexandria. It was well-developed, too. There were dozens of crops, and even more people. If your group could get them to join in the fight against the Saviors, it would be a tremendous boon to the cause. They seemed like a strong settlement, and all that was left was to meet the king.
After a surprise meeting with Morgan, who must’ve somehow ended up at the Kingdom after the first encounter with the Saviors, you were taken to have an “audience” with King Ezekiel.
You nearly had a heart attack when you saw the giant tiger the king had sitting next to him.
“Holy shit,” you muttered under your breath as you entered the theater they were using as a “throne room” of sorts. You felt Daryl push you back a little, as if he was afraid the chained up cat was going to pounce at you. “Is that a tiger or am I hallucinating?” you whispered to him.
Daryl grunted, his eyebrows furrowed as he observed the strange scene. “Nah, that’s a goddamn tiger.”
“Jesus!” Ezekiel exclaimed. “It pleases me to see you, old friend.”
“It pleases him, indeed!” another man sitting next to the king bellowed joyfully.
“Jerry,” Ezekiel chided the man.
“Tell me,” he continued, “what news do you bring good King Ezekiel?”
You have got to be shitting me.
“Are these new allies you brought me?” Ezekiel asked.
“Indeed, they are, Your Majesty,” Jesus responded.
The older you got, the more you felt like you were living in a fantasy world. Everything just kept getting weirder, and you weren’t sure how you felt about it. At least there was never a boring day.
“This is—” Jesus turned to gesture to your group, but then realized that all of you looked absolutely bewildered. “Oh, right. I forgot to mention—”
“Yeah, a tiger,” Rick said.
Jesus began to lead your group forward. “This is Rick Grimes, the leader of Alexandria, and these are some of his people.”
“I welcome you all to the Kingdom, good travelers,” Ezekiel said. “Now, what brings you to our fair land? Why do you seek an audience with the King?”
Obviously, this man was not a king.
He called himself one, and maybe that was a red flag, considering your previous encounters with a man who called himself the Governor, but at least he acted the part.
He had a distinct noble lilt to his voice, and a full head of glorious dreadlocks reaching his chest, as well as a stately full beard lining his chin. You supposed if anyone was going to walk around claiming to be a king, it would be someone who looked like him.
“Ezekiel,” Rick started, “King Ezekiel… Alexandria, the Hilltop, and the Kingdom—all three of our communities have something in common: we all serve the Saviors. Alexandria already fought them once and we won. We thought we took out the threat, but we didn’t know then what we know now. We only beat one outpost. We’ve been told you have a deal with them, that you know them, that you know they rule through violence and fear.”
At first, the king seemed angered that Jesus had informed your group of their deal with the Saviors. Apparently, no one knew about that deal except for the King. The citizens of the Kingdom were unaware of it.
“We brought you into our confidence,” Ezekiel said to Jesus. “Why did you break it?
“Because I want you to hear Rick’s plans.”
“And what plans have you, Rick Grimes of Alexandria?”
“We came to ask the Kingdom, to ask you, to join us in fighting the Saviors. Fighting for freedom, for all of us,” Rick said.
“What you are asking,” Ezekiel began, “is very serious.”
“Several of our people,” Michonne said, “good people, were killed by the Saviors. Brutally.”
“Who?” Morgan asked.
“Abraham,” Rosita said. “Glenn. Spencer, Olivia. Eugene was taken. They took Daryl. He escaped. Every second he’s out here, he’s a target. You gonna say you were right?”
Morgan never wanted to fight the Saviors. He protested vehemently against it. You could tell from Rosita’s vitriolic tone that she was pissed at him, and you weren’t so much pissed as you were terrified of Rosita’s words: “target.”
“No,” Morgan replied. “I’m… I’m just real sorry they’re gone.”
“Negan murdered Glenn and Abraham,” Rick reiterated. “Beat ‘em to death.”
“Terrorized the Hilltop,” Sasha said. “Set loose walkers just to make a point.”
“I used to think the deal was something we could live with,” Jesus said. “A lot of us did. But that’s changing. So, let’s change the world, Your Majesty.”
“I want to be honest about what we’re asking,” Rick said. “My people are strong, but there’s not enough of us. We don’t have guns—not enough, at least. Not a lot of weapons, period.”
“We have people,” Richard, one of the king’s guards, said. “And weapons. If we strike first, together we can beat them. Your Majesty, no more waiting for things to get worse beyond what we can handle. We set things right. The time is now.”
“Morgan,” Ezekiel said, “what say you?”
“Me?”
“Speak,” Ezekiel insisted.
“People will die,” Morgan said. “A lot of people, not just the Saviors. If we can find another way, we have to. Maybe it’s just about Negan—just capturing him, holding him, maybe—I…”
You were frustrated, and hoped that Morgan didn’t have too much sway over Ezekiel. You, yourself, hated violence. You always did. You liked to believe that things could be solved some other way, but with these people, it couldn’t. What you’d seen them do, the way they viewed the world… it was evil. Just looking at Daryl’s face, still healing from his beatings, reminded you of the evil that lurked within that Sanctuary, that flooded into Alexandria and spilled blood on your streets. There was on peaceful way of getting out of this.
“The hour grows late,” Ezekiel said, rising from his throne. “Rick Grimes of Alexandria, you have given the king much to ponder. I shall deliver my decree in the morn’.”
~
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Ok ok
Pussy Drunk Nanami!!!
Hehe, sometimes he's forced to work overtime, it can be 2 or 3 hours more but he still feels abstinence from you, and at some point his thoughts shift from lying on the couch and cuddling to eat you until you don't be able to speak.
Imagine Nanami arriving home a few hours late and apologizing to you, he sees you and automatically remembers the thoughts from earlier, then he'll almost beg you to let him open your chubby lips and drain everything possible from you.  The initial intention was to be pleasurable for you, and of course it was, but when you realize that Nanami's eyes are unfocused and her licks are more sloppy than usual you know the man is lost in his own little world, where there is only you and he and his only function is to live between your thighs giving pleasure to the goddess you are🥺
(ofc chubby reader!!)
Oh LORD. Puttin me back on my chubby chaser Nanami bullshit i see sksksksk thank you for the ask bby, I love Nanami x chubby fem reader and I will gladly provide content for this subject 😌💕
CW: chubby fem reader, smut, oral (female receiving), Nanami being a simp for his chubby darling, not beta read bc why would i ever do that sksksks
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Omgggggg pussy drunk Nanami makes me WEAK!!!!
AND PUSSY DRUNK NANAMI WITH HIS CHUBBY DARLING IS HNNNNNNNGGGGGG EVEN BETTER
Poor Nanami tho, having to stay late at work
Obviously it sucks that he has to work in general, but it's even worse that he can't come straight home to his lil pretty chubby baby :(
He was gonna make this yummy alfredo with chicken and broccoli and he was gonna make garlic bread to dip in the sauce and he had the perfect wine picked out and EVERYTHING 😔
YES HE CAN STILL MAKE IT TOMORROW BUT IT'S THE PRINCIPLE OF THE THING!!!
And yes he texted you to warn you he would be late and yes you were fine and said that you could just order takeout tonight
But he's still upset about the whole thing bc he's away from you 🥺
He's rushing through his work so he can get to you, but not so much that he fucks anything up yk?
At some point his mind wanders and he starts imagining what could've happened that night if he hadn't been working
He would've gone home and changed into something casual before he started dinner (probs a tshirt and sweats)
He would insist on making it himself, but he knows you'd try to help regardless (which he always thought was absolutely adorable) so he would let you
The two of you would enjoy dinner together before going to the couch, watching a movie or one of your favorite shows
Kento would try to keep his hands to himself, but that was much easier said than done when you wore the tiniest pajamas around the apartment
His hands would wander and squeeze your plump flesh, fingers digging into your thick thighs and spreading them open
You would squirm and whine about how he didnt have to eat you out, but how could he resist your sopping wet, chubby pussy?
He'd pry your plump lips apart and dive in, slurping up every drop of your essence before he focused on your clit, sucking the precious pearl and making you moan
He always loved eating you out: your taste, your expressions, the cute little whimpers you made when the two of you made eye contact and you try to hide your flustered expression—
Aaaaaaaaand now he's hard at work ��� it's hard out here for a bitch ���😔
He struggles the rest of his day, but he eventually finishes his dumbass paperwork and heads home to his baby 💕
He's so tired that he's fully prepared to eat, bathe, and go to bed with his darling
He walks into the apartment, calling out to you and apologizing as he takes off his shoes
He's looking forward to the food you ordered, but his mind goes blank when he walks into the living room and sees you lounging on the couch
You're draped over the couch in an oversized t-shirt and booty shorts (who can blame you? It's way too hot this evening) and Nanami loses it
He drops his jacket to the floor, loosening his tie as he strides towards the couch
He's on you before you can properly greet him, hands already roaming over your supple flesh, squeezing every inch he can get his hands on as he kisses you
He's tugging off your shorts, urging you onto your back as he kneels down before you
"Just a taste, just a taste" he repeats breathlessly as he spreads your thighs, pulling apart those cute chubby pussy lips before he licks your precious cunt 🥺
He's missed you so so much, your soft thighs squeezing around his head, cutting off his air supply
AND YOUR PUSSY, GOOD GOD!!!
He loves how you taste, how your slick pools on his tongue and slides down his throat
You're so warm and wet and sweet and he just wants to drink you up like a bottle of cabernet sauvignon
You cum in a matter of minutes, spasming against him, but he's nowhere near done
He keeps going, sucking your clit until it hurts, practically making you cry as he makes you cum over and over again
You don't know how long it's been, but you've cum at least four times and Nanami's not letting up
You look down between your legs, prepared to convince him to stop so you can take care of him too, but he's too far gone
His face is flushed, eyes cloudy as he focuses on nothing, his tongue rolling over your cunt languidly
It's not about your pleasure anymore, it's about Ken's desires and he just wants to savor every ounce of your sweet fluids
You wanna make him cum too, but he just holds you tighter when you suggest him stopping, so you leave him be
He eats your cunt for at least an hour, only stopping when his muscles grow sore and he physically can't keep going he wants to tho, he really really wants to, god damn his human limits
He apologizes later for losing control and going overboard, but you reassure him that you're fine and you're just glad the both of you could enjoy yourselves :)
Tbh you are very exhausted from the entire encounter but you love your hard-working man so it's the least you could do
You do notice that he doesn't promise not to do it again, like he does with other things, so you'll have to be careful around him the next time he comes home after a long work day
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Mending & Amends
(Graduation Gift Part 4)
Summary: the fourth installment of my graduation gift series (can be found on my masterlist). This picks up literally seconds after the end of pt 3 with Natasha trying to find ways to make amends and get you to trust her again. No smut, but still not appropriate.
A/N: author’s note WC: 3k (holy heck)
CW: dark fic; mommy!nat; there is no porn, I repeat no porn; but there is mommy milk/breastfeeding; reader is injured; dubcon existence; 18+ only, do you hear me??
While you’re out, Natasha has time to tend to your injuries without you cowering and crying. Without all the guilt.
She picks your limp form up gently and brings you back out to the basement proper and lays you face-down on the bed-crib. She goes to get some medical supplies and cleans you up, then bandages the open bits and rubs some healing salve all over you. With only a few strikes having landed on your core, she’s satisfied with rubbing some of the salve there.
She gets you to drink some water from a bottle in your sleep, your natural instincts she’s been nurturing taking over. She checks your temperature, a solid 99, which isn’t too bad. She wipes the sweat and tear-tracks from your face, then brushes your hair out again. She lays down beside you and drapes an arm over your waist, burying her face into the back of your neck as she tries to think of what she’ll do when you wake up.
An idea forms slowly as she runs her hand along your waist. Yes, that will work. You might not like it at first, but it will work if she bears through it. She’s not sure how much of the fear and pain on your face she can handle, but she needs to.
She moves you off the bed to make it up nice, then sets you down gently, face down. Whenever you’re healed up you’ll be able to lay on your back, but right now that’s not possible. She ties your hands and feet to frame corners with plenty of slack—she wants you to be able to move.
Finally, she reluctantly removes your collar, biting her lip as she does so. It looked so precious on you, a symbol of the progress of your relationship. All gone now, thanks to her paranoia and overreaction. As much as she doesn’t want to remove it, it’s not right to keep it on if it speaks a lie.
Then she waits for you to come to. It shouldn’t be much longer now, maybe another half hour or so. She sits in the rocking chair in the corner, anxiously bouncing her leg. She needs to get herself under control before you wake. She knows her little baby needs for her to be the collected, caring, soothing mommy right now, and that you will for some time.
You mumble a little as you begin to stir, picking your head up a little. She takes a deep breath and smiles before going over and crouching down to look at your face while she gently tucks your hair back.
“Hey baby,” she says softly. “How’s my little sleepyhead feeling?” she asks. You whimper and inch away from her.
“D-don’ touch me,” you stammer.
“It’s okay baby, mommy isn’t gonna hurt you,” she says.
She sits down beside you. “I am so so sorry about what I did earlier. I was scared you were gonna try to leave me and get hurt. It’s a nasty drop from that window. But I didn’t take the time to think past my initial reaction or ask you, and that was wrong. I overreacted out of fear and anger without stopping to think, and I’m so sorry, little one. I never should have done that,” she says, tears brimming in her eyes. You turn your head to look up at her, eyes searching hers for any sign of ingenuity. You find only regret and sadness.
“You mean it?” you ask softly.
“Yes baby,” she says. “And mommy promises never to punish you without talking first or before taking some deep breaths, okay?” she says.
“Pinky promise?” you ask.
“Pinky promise,” she sticks out her pinky to hook with yours. She’s thrilled that you’re already starting to be a bit little again. As you move to interlock with her, you notice the restraints.
“Wait, what?” all traces of your headspace are gone as you jerk up to look around at your tied limbs. “What the hell?”
“Baby, it’s to keep you safe. See? They’re not tight or anything,” she tugs on all the loose rope.
“This is insane! All of this is insane!” you shout at her for the first time in weeks. It breaks her heart even more.
“I told you, mommy’s gonna fix what she did. Mommy’s gonna show you you can trust me again, gonna take care of you, of everything. Make it so this collar means something again,” she taps it on the bedside table, just out of your reach. You bury your face in your pillow and sob.
“It’s gonna be okay, baby. Mommy’s here. Mommy’s gonna make it all better,” she curls up beside you and puts an arm over you again. Despite how upset you are, you lean into it, wanting the physical comfort you associate with her.
“How’s your bottom?” she asks.
“Hurts,” you mumble.
“Do you think some Advil might help?” she asks. You nod and she gets up briefly to go get it. “Here you go, baby,” you tilt your head up and she puts the pills in, then grabs your bottle of water. You roll your eyes but suck on it to get the water to wash the pills down. You nod a thank you.
“Are you hungry?” she asks. You nod. “What do you want? I’ll even go drive through somewhere if that will help,” she says. You think for a moment.
“McDonalds?” you ask hopefully. She nods and smooths your hair back.
“McDonalds will be here soon,” she assures you. “Mommy has to go see a friend, too, so it works out. I’ll be back in half an hour or so, okay?” she says. You nod.
She kisses your head, which you recoil from, and leaves. You’re left alone to lay face-down on the crib-bed, restrained and in pain, until she returns. It’s silent. It’s lonely. You’ve grown used to either having Natasha or the sounds of the TV running since you came down here.
You think back to this morning. Everything was so different. You honestly trusted her this morning, even if it wasn’t the strongest trust. But this afternoon reminded you that she was an unstable, dangerous, paranoid lunatic. And it scared you.
Truth be told, you’ve grown to like being “little,” as Natasha calls it, letting yourself stop thinking too much and trust your mommy—Natasha, you correct yourself—to take care of you. You liked playing with her and cuddling. And when she touched you, it felt so good. So much better than when you had touched yourself. You felt loved and cared for in some twisted way.
But that was all in the past, now. You’d been doing so well, both of you, and now this. How does she expect you to trust her again? You’re not sure. You turn your head and close your eyes.
“You’re sure this will work, Wan?” Natasha asks her friend anxiously as she pulls her shirt back on. The red glow around her is fading. Her bra feels painfully tight and she winces.
“I’m positive. It worked for me, and especially given that you told me it’s happened before with those meds. If not tonight, by tomorrow for sure. And here’s these,” she hands Natasha a package. “They’ll be much more comfortable.”
“Thanks, Wanda. I don’t know what I’d do without you, in all honesty,” she says. Wanda smiles and hugs her.
“I could say the same to you,” she smiles. “Go on, get back to your little one,” she shoos her playfully. Natasha waves and leaves, then drives by McDonalds as promised. She’s back in a little over half an hour to see you dozing. It warms her heart to see her precious baby sleeping.
“Come on, little one, mommy brought your food,” she says, shaking you gently. You open your eyes and push yourself up off of the bed some. “Let’s get you comfy,” she helps you find a position that isn’t too uncomfortable for your aching rear, then hands you your food. “What do we say?” she asks.
“Thank you,” you say with a french fry in your mouth. She smiles. The mommy will come back later. She won’t push it for tonight.
“Do you wanna watch some cartoons?” she asks. They always engross you and help you into your littlespace. You nod and she flicks through the TV until she finds one she knows you like.
You both eat in relative silence, watching the TV. At least you’re not trying to cower anymore. That’s good, right? Progress? She hopes so.
“I’m gonna use the potty,” she tells you, then gets up. You don’t notice her bring the package with her as does.
When she returns, you notice something different about her, but you can’t tell what. It’s a small difference, then. Maybe she just fixed her hair. She’s smiling though.
You’re finished with your food soon enough, and the show ends shortly after.
“Let’s get you in the bath now baby, hm?” she suggests. You feel gross anyways, so you nod. She unties you and scoops you up in her arms.
“Let me down!” you squirm.
“Hush now, like mommy told you, I’m gonna take care of everything. Gonna show you you can trust me again,” she says. You squirm all the way to the bathroom anyways. She sets you down on the toilet facing the wall, almost straddling it.
“Huh?” you ask.
“It’s less pressure on your little bottom,” she explains. You nod and use the toilet while she gets the tub ready, but when you go to get some toilet paper, Natasha beats you to it. “I’ve got it, baby,” she says, wiping your tender area gently. You wince and try to get away from her.
“Stop it, I’m not a baby!” you try to grab her hand and move it, but she stays still, unmoving.
“Come on, little one. I know you’re in there. I know you want to let mommy take care of you,” she says. You shake your head. “Baby, this is about me proving to you that you can trust me to take care of you,” her voice is even. “I want you to choose to let me prove it to you. That’s why I haven’t given you any of the medicine I used to. But that doesn’t mean I won’t. I’ll do whatever it takes to get you to believe how much I care about you again,” she says.
“But—“ you don’t know what you were planning on saying. “But I wanna do it myself. I can do it myself,” your voice is quiet as you lose your grip on her wrist, barely audible.
“That’s the thing, precious,” she steps closer to you, finishing her task and then using her other hand to pet your head. “I know you can do it. But you don’t have to. That’s why I’m here,” she says. You groan and lean forward on the toilet tank. “Come on, you’ll feel better when you’re clean,” she picks you up and sets you in the tub, then flushes the toilet.
You sigh and let her bathe you. Your body is too sore from getting dragged and caned to wash yourself that effectively anyways. When she gets to your most sensitive areas though, you squirm away from her and reach for the soap.
“It’s too sore. I wanna wash it myself,” you say quietly.
“I’m gonna be so careful, you won’t even notice,” she gently moved your hand away and got the soap again. Tears brimmed in your eyes and your bottom lip started to form a pout. “No, baby, don’t cry,” she gasps, petting your cheek. “Tell mommy what’s going on,” she says.
“I’m scared,” you say. “I don’t want you to touch it because you hurt me,” you say. Her heart breaks again.
“Okay, sweetie, how about this: we can do it together,” she takes your hand and puts it over hers, then begins to wash you gentler than ever. Your breathing hitches and your heart kicks up, but it’s over before it can go into full-blown panic.
“All done. You did such a good job, little one,” she praises you. “Ready to get out, or do you want to play in the water some?” she asks.
“Ready to get out,” you say. She picks you up out of the bath and dries you off with a soft towel before taking you out to the bed. She pulls on a soft shirt, leaving your bottom half uncovered so as not to irritate it. She changes into the spare pjs she keeps down here and crawls into bed beside you. You don’t welcome or recoil from her touch, which she’ll take as progress.
Her chest is still dully aching, but she knows she’s pushed you far enough for tonight. Maybe tomorrow she’ll be able to coax you into it.
When day comes again, Natasha is treating you the way she did when she first brought you down here, only with gentleness and tenderness where there was hardness and strictness before. The lack of the sedative drugs in your system makes it more difficult, but she’s able to maneuver your squirming form through the daily ritual of getting up, using the toilet, getting dressed, brushing your hair and teeth, and finally breakfast. Whenever she can, she has you laying on your stomach on the bed, and this is one thing you don’t protest.
You notice her shifting in discomfort the whole morning though, and despite how much you dislike her at the moment, you hate to see her in pain. You work up the courage to ask after a while of watching cartoons.
“Are you hurt?” you ask.
“I… well, I have a side effect from a treatment I had done that’s causing me discomfort,” she admits.
“I’m sorry,” you say. “That sucks.”
“There’s a way you can help me,” she says, sounding more timid than you’ve heard her maybe ever before.
“What is it?” you ask. To your confusion, she started to unbutton her shirt, and then she unclips her bra, but from the top? What?
“Huh?” you blurt out.
“I’m lactating,” she says simply, squeezing her nipple a little, causing a drop of what can only be breast milk to come of it.
“I—what do you want me to do about it?” you ask, dumbfounded.
“They hurt because they’re too full,” she explains. “And it would be really helpful if you would, well… empty them. I don’t have a breast pump, of course,” she says.
“Wait, like, you want me to—to drink your milk?” you’re turning bright red. Even after everything you’ve done with her, you’re almost unbearably embarrassed.
“Yes, baby, it would really help me, plus I think that you’ll like it. And it could help us…feel closer,” she chooses her words carefully, gauging your reaction.
“It’s kinda weirding me out,” you say honestly.
“Just try it, please, baby? It’ll help me feel so much better. And I promise, if you hate it after a little while then I’ll get a pump,” she crosses her fingers behind her back.
“I… okay,” you say. This whole situation is so absurd you can hardly bother trying to resist it. She smiles and adjusts the both of you to where you can reach her breast.
It’s not like you haven’t had her tits in your mouth before. You’re not sure why you’re so nervous right now. Natasha gently puts a hand on the back of your head and pushes you a little closer. You wrap your mouth around her nipple hesitantly, unsure of what to do.
“It’s like your bottle, sweetheart,” she senses your confusion. You tentatively begin sucking, and you’re surprised by the flow of milk into your mouth. You jerk back, but Natasha keeps your head in place, groaning in relief.
When the initial shock wears off, you realize she was right—you do like it. It’s warm and sweet, and the sucking action soothes you. You relax a little.
“That’s a good baby for mommy,” Natasha says gently, stroking your head with her thumb on the hand supporting you. “Do you like mommy’s milkies?” she asks. You nod, slipping into littlespace quickly as you drink from her. “Is it yummy?” she asks out of her own curiosity. You nod, not wanting to stop to answer. She chuckles. “It’s all yours, little one.”
She moves you to her other breast when you’ve finished, looking down and noticing that her other one is indeed smaller, and it certainly feels better now. You clutch at her gently to get a good angle, and her heart swells. She’s so glad this worked, but then again, Wanda’s advice has yet to fail her, so she shouldn’t be surprised.
When you finish, your eyelids are droopy and you nuzzle into her willingly, a rarity even before she fucked everything up. She pets you gently.
“Sleepy, little one?” she asks you softly. You nod. “Want a nap?” she asks. You nod again. Between your body being exhausted already and the soothing effects of her milk, she’s not surprised you’re already tired even though you’ve only been awake for a few hours. “Let mommy check your bottom, okay?” she turns you on your tummy. You’re healing nicely. “Do you want a blankie? I think it won’t hurt,” she says. You nod and she covers you with a blanket.
“Mommy stay,” you say when she gets up. And how is she supposed to argue with that? The answer is, she isn’t, so after she turns the lights off, he curls up next to you and holds you close.
“Mommy’s here, little one,” she assures you, finding your favorite stuffie and handing it to you. “Mommy will always be here, don’t you worry.”
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realperson022 · 2 years
Text
It’s been a lengthy while since I last wrote something Sonadow-related, so why not share something I hope to have ready soon by next week *crossing my fingers*
Title: Pay My Rent
Rating: Teen
The sun was high, its rays bleeding across the expansive clear blue sky, and warmed everything below that crossed its path. The inhabitants of Station Square scurried across bustling intersections and neighborhood sidewalks to find protection from the blazing beatdown of the sun, sighing in relief when finding enough shade to get them from where they stood to their destination. However, some enjoyed the heat no matter how intense it was, particularly for two hedgehogs.
Far away from the noisy center of the city, the two males rested peacefully across lounge chairs, each their own, with a faded black, heavy-duty crate serving as a little make-shift table between them; not completely exposed to the sunlight, they had an old patio umbrella that had some holes here and there but good enough to still block some of the brightness. Sided with a red cooler, where cans of Chaos Cola were kept cold with ice, it was their reserved hangout place. Best of all, absolutely no one would find them all the way up here, the rooftop of an abandoned 13-story level building on the edge of Sunset City's perimeter.
Just two guys sipping on their respective canned drinks and enjoying their serene afternoon in comfortable silence.
"Hey, Shads?"
A silence that didn't last long when you had the most talkative hedgehog in the world as your partner.
"Hm," was all the Sonic got, flicking his black sunglasses up enough to gaze at the striped hedgehog that remained still, soaking in the summer heat as if it was no bother for him with his dark-furred coat. Something that the hero envied when he struggled with keeping cool on sweltering days in July, but when winter came around, it was another story. Shadow made for a great walking furnace, a fun little thing he had learned after spending his first frosty season with the broody hedgehog.
"Are you gonna be busy tomorrow evening?"
Adjusting the same-looking pair of shades behind his ears, almost blending in with his jet black quills if not for the crimson stripes, Shadow glanced over at his partner, his curious eyes meeting his favorite pair of emeralds. "Why?"
Sonic grinned, scooting up to sit upright on his lounge chair. "Don't ya remember what day it is?"
Briefly, his dark counterpart took a moment to think on it before the realization hit him, chuckling as he recalled what had happened one year ago exactly on tomorrow's date.
"How could I possibly forget the day you made a fool of yourself in front of me, hedgehog?"
"Pshh, you're the fool for falling for it at the end!"
Playfully rolling his eyes at him, the ebony hedgehog shrugged, bringing the can to his lips. "I guess your stupidity works as your charm, too. I still can't believe you went around kissing strangers for fun," he said, drinking his soda with a faint frown across his features.
Sensing that his boyfriend's - the man he began a relationship with of barely one year - train of thoughts was straying from the line of conversation, Sonic got up from his seat, placed his now empty Chaos Cola on the crate next to him, and walked over to drape himself across the older hedgehog, nuzzling the fluff of white chest fur he had come to adore so much.
"But I ended up meeting you, didn't I?"
The words mumbled into his chest fur made Shadow smile, his eyes softening at the sight before him; he accepted his partner's embrace, reaching out to pluck the sunglasses that were nestled haphazardly on his head and gently laying them down on the crate. Still nursing his drink in one hand, the striped hedgehog used the other to scratch behind one of the cutely blue ears that always stole his attention in the most unusual of times.
"You sure did."
A low rumbling purr came forth as a response to both his comment and sweet gesture, the way gorgeous gem-like eyes stared up at him like he was Sonic's everything making his heart skip. His everything, who would have thought a person like Shadow the Hedgehog could be something so precious and priceless to someone else, earning equally important things, such as their trust, kindness, and love, in return.
And it had been only a year - one year full of laughter, movie nights, and shared kisses.
"I don't know when I'll be getting off work," Shadow murmured, mesmerized by the tiniest of a blue hue that somehow stood out among all the sea of green when the sunlight hit the blue hedgehog's face at the right angle. So pretty, he thought with a breath-taking sigh.
The hero, on the other hand, had been busy admiring his boyfriend's profile to remember what they had been talking about, even when he was the one that brought up the topic of the conversation.
"What?"
"I might work until late tomorrow since today's my official last day off of the month."
At hearing the news, Sonic whined, sitting up and now straddling the black hedgehog's lap with arms crossed over his chest. He looked the part of a pouting child to the other's amusement. "C'moooon! I only had you all to myself for three days! What about our Netflix show marathon?"
With a gentle pat on one of his lean cobalt thighs, Shadow gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry, but you know how demanding my job is."
Sonic huffed, narrowing his eyes at him. "Just that because you never tell me exactly what your work involves."
"I can't tell you because it's class--"
"Classified, yeah yeah, I know," the hero muttered, averting his gaze from Shadow's rubies. At seeing his blue ears droop, the striped hedgehog set down his drink on the floor and took a hold of his favorite speedster, sliding out from under him. Startled by the sudden movement, Sonic didn't know what was happening, easily falling away from Shadow and onto the lounge chair, his back meeting the warm seat thanks to Shadow.
"You're leavin' already?" He asked, afraid that his last remark was the reason behind it, but can you blame him? They only ever spent two weekends together as a couple every month if Shadow's work didn't call for him on Saturday night with an order of having to report to wherever he needs to the next morning. It wasn't that he didn't trust Sonic but more of the whole 'classified and never tell a soul' gist that all workers there must abide by, regardless of how powerful the person asking them was.
Luckily, he had been wrong; Shadow only switched their positions, leaning on his left arm to hover over the blue hedgehog that lay flat on the chair. A particular beam of sunlight filtered through one of the patio umbrella's holes and hit him directly on Sonic's right eye. He winced, moving his head away from the undesired spot.
"Even if I didn't go back tomorrow, you still have hero duties that need your attention," Shadow softly reasoned, cradling the side of his partner's head, a thumb pressed to a fawn cheek to caress delicately. Sonic sighed, leaning into the touch. "Right..."
He guessed he was no better off with Mobius depending on him to fight badniks or defeat the once-in-a-while egotistical god that somehow Eggman got wrapped around one of his evil fingers.
"I suppose it doesn't help that we haven't told anyone about us, huh?"
Shadow's heart ached at watching his usually happy and upbeat hedgehog become low-spirited, the light in his dazzling emerald dwindling with every passing second that they talked about how their secret relationship was nothing easy to live with like they had thought it would be. But with both of them wanting to see if their journey together after that odd night at the nightclub, where they first kissed, to the surprising race they pulled off, the very moment that convinced the Hero of Mobius to chase after what used to be a stranger to him, the hedgehogs had decided to live this intimate part of their life in privacy for as long as they could.
"I don't know...that would mean I have to share you."
The sound of the speedster's giggle that followed after his playful nudge against his muzzle, skimming his lips over a soft cheek, lightened up the mood.
"How did it go...sharing is caring, Shads," Sonic teased, wrapping his arms around his attentive boyfriend.
Pressing a kiss to the corner of peach lips, the crimson-striped hedgehog snorted, leaning away to fix the hero with a mischievous smirk.
"Well, you should know by now that I don't give a fuck about others, especially when all I need is you."
Familiar with the hedgehog's blunt and rude attitude when it came to people in general for some reason, the hero simply didn't find it worth arguing about it, steadily learning what his boyfriend meant on his own terms upon several occasions nowadays, but better yet, Sonic found it attractive. The effortless and confident way in which Shadow spoke, sounding so sure about every word, made him dizzy with happiness as if he was walking on air. Good thing he wasn't standing because the hero would be positively certain that his knees would have given out from under him - Shadow did always have a way of sending a wave of unanticipated shakiness to his feet.
A sensation that took him back to their first kiss under neon lights and an indefinite future in front of them.
"...thanks for being my special someone, Shadow."
The words came as a whisper, a holy secret that no one needed to hear but them because for now, in their small bubble that consisted of lounge chairs, an aging crate, and a shabby patio umbrella, they were the only ones existing. Cherishing the few hours they had left together, Shadow spent them memorizing the pleasant beat of Sonic's heart, both his arms secured around a blue waist and harmonized his own heartbeat to the hero's, pretending that they danced to the cadenced music only they could recognize.
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demonsandmischief · 3 years
Text
Our Moment Finale
Marvel - A Captain America Fairytale AU
King! Steve Rogers x Female Reader
1.8K Words
Here's Pt 1 and Pt 2
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-Part 3-
the conclusion
----
You didn't waste anytime getting home, collapsing onto your bed with a sob that you muffled with your palm. It seemed nothing good could ever truly be yours.
You glanced around the small attic space with blurry tears. The house was supposed to be for you. Your father had left it in your name, yet your step-mother was able to work her way around that.
It was the only reason you stuck around, the only reason you put up with all of it. You were over it.
Peaches was the only thing that you felt a connection to. Your father adored her, and you were honored that you got to bond with her.
You made up your mind. It was time to move on. You dried that last of your tears and began packing a bag. You carefully folded your mother's dress and put it back in the box you got it from. One day when the memories weren't as painful, you would come back for it.
You wished things could be different with your life, but mostly with Steve. You should have known better than to get tied up with the king. It was too good to be true. You felt you had done everything you could to win over his trust, but obviously not enough.
You strapped your bag to your horse. The next town was about a days ride, and you could figure out where to go from there.
---
Steve didn't hesitate to saddle his own horse as quickly as possible. He had to go after you - had to explain. He couldn't lose you. You were the only good thing to ever happen to him.
He stalled in his tracks. Explain what exactly? That his biggest fear was being used and never being loved? He shook his head.
"My king, where are you off to?" a guard asked confused.
"I have to leave."
"But the ball-"
"Tell the court I will explain when I get back."
"Wait, you can't leave without someone going with you."
Steve was already racing down the path, his heart racing along with it.
"There's no time for that," he called. He could take care of himself.
He thought of you as he followed the familiar trail. He thought of the first day you met, and all of the moments thereafter. You always made time for him, always listened to what he had to say. You were attentive and doting.
He had screwed up.
The trail became less familiar. He didn't know where he was going, or how he would find you. He swallowed down the panic. He couldn't lose you. It was a constant circling thought.
Eventually the trail ended and he slowed to a trot. He saw a house up ahead, and a royal carriage in front of it.
He slowed, finding Sam speaking to a guard.
"What are you doing here and how did you get here so fast?" Steve asked.
Sam took his horse's reins. "I know something has been up with you lately, but you can explain later. The lady you talked to at the ball is in the house."
Your step-mother. He had some words for her, but first he needed you.
"Thank you, Sam. I owe you," Steve said, heading for the door.
"Your highness, it's a pleasure to have you in our home-"
"Don't act like I don't know what is going on," he said, cutting her off. "I will deal with you later. Is she here? Where is her room?"
The lady paled even beneath the layers of powder on her cheek.
"S-She's not-" she swallowed at Steve's fierce look, before gathering her wits. "My king, she's not here. She's hardly ever here. I'll show you where she prefers to spend her time."
Steve followed her down a hallway to a door with a winding staircase. She guided him up and into the small room at the top. The ceilings were so low that he had to scrunch his shoulders.
He took in the space, feeling upset at your living conditions.
"Leave me," he demanded, unable to look away from the small bed in the corner, one that contained a single blanket and a pillow, folded neatly on the end.
The step-mother was right. It looked like someone hardly lived here, except there was a freshly cut flower on the windowsill, soaking in the low, dusty light. And the books you had borrowed from his own library sat tucked by the bed. Most importantly, the beautiful dress that he never got to say anything to you about was hanging from the sides of a box under the bed. You must have been in a haste to leave.
He frowned, bending down to pick up a folded piece of paper. Were those the things you did by yourself? What had you gone through?
Steve cursed. He wished he could have started the night over. He wished that he had gone through his original plan instead of being sucked into his own insecurities.
"Where would she have gone?" he asked impatiently to the lady who was lounging on her couch.
"If she isn't in the barn with that horse, I have no clue."
There was no sign of a horse or you. He closed his eyes, feeling the anxiety creeping in and swallowing him whole. It was dark and late, and you were somewhere all alone. It was all his fault.
"She might know someone in the next town over," Sam suggested. "We could head over tomorrow."
"That's a days journey. I'll start the route tonight."
"You're exhausted, Steve," he protested.
"Just in case," his words dropped to a hoarse whisper, his mind plunged into the darkest corners.
Sam nodded. "We will catch up with you tomorrow then. Be safe."
He nodded, already going down the dark path, his heart thudding loud in his ears.
---
You were taking a break and letting Peaches rest. The fire you built was warm and soothing on your stiff limbs. Even after the incident in the woods a while back, it didn't scare you to be out alone. The stars and the moon made it seem as though you could feel your parents, and you enjoyed the sentiment, especially after the day you had.
You rested your head on your hand, your eyes fluttering closed. They were dry and sticky from the tears that had fallen.
You gave a shuddering hiccup, unable to give into the heartbreak anymore. You were cried out. Beyond upset - a numbness covered your whole body like a scab on a wound.
You jolted, hearing steps near you and you staggered quickly to your feet.
"Thank god you're alright," Steve said, rushing towards you. He pulled you tight into his embrace, and it took everything in you not to hug him back.
"What are you doing here, your highness?" you asked confused, trying to pull away. He didn't let go, only eased back so his hand remained on your shoulders.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I believed her over you. I'm sorry that it took me so long to come after you. I'm sorry for everything," he said the words so sincerely that tears filled your eyes for the millionth time tonight. He caressed you cheek, using the pad of his thumb to dry a fallen drop. "And it's just Steve to you."
"But you still did it," you whispered, voice thick with tears. "You don't trust me."
"I do trust you," he said earnestly. "and I care about you. It has been a long time since I shared those emotions with anyone."
"It doesn't matter," you successfully pull away. His hands drop dejectedly to his side. "You're a king, and I'm me. It would have never worked out."
It was quiet a moment. "Why didn't you tell me what you were going through at home?"
You sat down and Steve followed. "I didn't want you to think I was using you. I guess we both have our own insecurities."
He looked into the dimming flames of the fire. "Insecurities or not, I shouldn't have accused. I'm sorry I hurt you."
He waited, but you said nothing. "We're both exhausted and need sleep. Why don't we head back?" He stood, holding out his hand to you.
You shook your head, "I'm not going back."
He paused, fully expecting that response, but it still took him aback. He definitely wasn't going to leave you alone in the middle of nowhere though.
"Okay," he nodded, heading to his horse.
You frowned.
He turned with a blanket, draping it over you, before tending to the fire. Finally, he sat next to you with a sigh. His body was pressed against yours and you couldn't help but sag in relief at the support.
"You can't stay. You have to get back," you protested.
"Shh," he eased, kissing your forehead ever so softly. "Sleep a bit and then we will talk."
---
Gentle light breaking through the trees awoke you from your slumber. You shivered from the damp cold, curling closer to the source of warmth beneath you. Your eyes fluttered and you realized you were practically laying on top of Steve.
You called his name, shaking him gently.
"We fell asleep," you told him with a yawn, falling back onto his chest. It was the best sleep you ever had.
He hummed, wrapping his arm around your waist.
"I'm sorry. You must be freezing," he said coming to, easing the both of you up. Your cheeks heated and you moved to get off of his lap.
He adjusted the blanket so it was pulled tight over your shoulders.
"Come back with me, please," he whispered, turning your chin to look at him. "You can stay with me. I just want to be with you."
"You want me to stay with you?" you asked.
"We could get married in the summer," he grinned, the first genuine smile you had seen in a while.
"Married?" you asked, biting back a smile.
He nodded eagerly. "I'm falling in love with you."
---
Epilogue:
"Come on," Steve encouraged, pulling you eagerly down the hall to your favorite room in the palace.
Things were working out good, really good, between the two of you.
"What are we doing?"
"Close your eyes," he smiled, taking his large warm hands and covering them for you.
He pulled them off with an exaggerated ta-da, revealing a new shelf next to his in the library.
"Now you have your own spot for all of your favorites."
"Thank you," you smiled, leaning up to kiss him. "I love it. I love you."
And they lived happily ever after.
---
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cherienymphe · 3 years
Text
Fine Line (Harry Styles x Reader)
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WARNINGS: darkish themes, slight dubious consent, drug use, this is the tamest thing I’ve ever written
! PLEASE DNI IF THIS OFFENDS YOU !
➥ divider by @lootbox​
summary: your friendship with Harry has teetered on the edge of something more for years, the lines blurring until they were hardly visible. Harry has grown tired of this game
~
You could feel his eyes on you.
You could always feel them on you, the heat of his gaze so suffocating in a way that was hard to ignore. You didn’t even have to turn around to see the way his pink lips were pressed together, jaw clenching ever so slightly as the green of his eyes darkened just a tad. You’d witnessed it enough times to picture it as clear as day in your mind. A shudder passed through you, and the handsome blond before you noticed.
He was some lanky fratboy type, a bit too into himself, but a nice distraction nonetheless. The rowdy bar was filled with a seedy crowd of prospects, the pickings slim, and the man before you seemed like the best route to go. You hadn’t even wanted to come out, but Harry had given you some half-assed tale, voice gruff on the other end of the phone, as to why you should when Sarah had suggested the idea. His drummer loved a night out on the town.
It wasn’t shocking to find the brown-haired boy occupied with a fiery-haired model type whose smile seemed a tad bit wide. You had scanned the crowd for any other members of his backup band, but upon failing to find a familiar face, you’d reluctantly made your way to the bar. That was how you’d run into Tyler, the fair-haired man’s eyes lighting up the minute he noticed you. You took a sip out of the drink he’d bought you.
“Cold?” he wondered, and you started to shake your head, but decided against it.
How could you explain to him that your shivers had nothing to do with the temperature but instead the paralyzing gaze of your friend?
“A little,” you replied with a sheepish smile.
Ever the gentleman, or simply a guy who knew how to play the game to get what he wanted, he peeled his own jacket off. You took in the way his shirt clung to him, and as you raised your brows at his exposed arms, you thought to yourself that he wasn’t as lanky as you believed. Maybe the night would prove to be more fruitful than you thought. He’d only just moved to throw it around you when he paused, and even before his dark eyes fell onto something behind you, you knew what had made him stop. That suffocating heat clung to your back, draping over you like a blanket, much like the arm that found its way over your shoulder.
“I didn’t see you come in.”
His chest rumbled with the low timber of his voice as he pulled you against him, his hand coming around to brush his fingers along your exposed collarbone. You fought the urge to roll your eyes, but couldn’t hold back your grimace as the man before you flickered his gaze between you and the brunette at your back. His face fell, and even though you’d still been undecided on whether or not you were going to go home with him, you still mourned the loss of the possibility. 
“Oh...uh-.”
“Oh, hey man. Harry,” your friend introduced himself, and you almost sneered at the way he pretended to only just notice the person you’d been talking to.
He stuck his hand out, but Tyler only responded with a forced smile.
“Nice to meet you,” he tersely said before his gaze fell onto you. “...you too. It was nice talking to you.”
The disappointment in both his eyes and voice was almost enough to make you tell him that the guy behind you wasn’t a boyfriend. Far from it even, but Harry’s deep chuckle stopped you from calling the man back, and you turned to face him with a frown.
“You’re a jerk, you know that?”
You downed the rest of your drink before walking past him, and Harry kept up with your pace, hand coming up to rest on the back of your neck as his stride matched yours.
“...and what have I done?”
“You know what you did,” you complained with a scoff.
“You’ll thank me later, love. That guy looked much too tame for you.”
You could hear the smirk in his voice, and you shook your head.
“I’m going home. I shouldn’t have come out anyway,” you grumbled, and surprise filled you when Harry followed you to the door.
“I guess I’ll be joining you then. Not much worth giving my attention to in there…”
You glanced up at him just as the door of the bar shut behind you, cutting off the noise of customers and drunkards alike.
“The redhead looked interesting enough,” you commented.
He didn’t respond right away, and when you glanced at him again, his eyes were on you.
“Paying much attention to us, were you?”
You shoved him away from you, and his laugh reached your ears.
“Hardly. You were the one who begged me to come out remember? The least you could do is greet me at the door.”
You yelped when Harry wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against him.
“Missed me?”
Now it was your turn to chuckle, and you ignored the way his gaze zeroed in on you, like he was trying to devour you and figure you out all at the same time.
“...and if I said yes?”
He ran his eyes over your face, the green of them a tad brighter from the glow of the moon, a cool breeze ruffling his dark curls.
“Then I’d have to remind you that I’m not goin’ anywhere.”
Unable to hold his gaze, something you’re rarely able to do, you glanced away. Your eyes found the sidewalk as Harry continued his trek, pulling you into his side. The warmth of him seeped through your dress and clung to your skin, like every part of him seemed to do. Your friendship with the former teen band member turned rockstar was very...strange.
You’d met years ago, only months before the release of his first album. You’d been the friend of a friend and had met at some party hosted by someone you couldn’t even name now. You were a different person then. Legs wobbly and brain fuzzy from the many drinks you’d downed, you’d mistaken Harry for your boyfriend. 
The singer had had no desire to correct you as you fisted your hands in his hair, tongue halfway down his throat as he basked in the taste of some fruity drink on it. The lighting at the party had been dim, and you’d only realized your mistake when you were seconds away from shoving your hand down his pants in some bedroom. The empty boudoir had been bathed in light, and you still remembered the way he’d laughed when realization hit you. You were embarrassed as you stumbled into the hallway and downstairs, in search of your boyfriend.
That particular relationship ended up not lasting another week, and the next time you met Harry, it had been a much more formal setting. You’d officially been introduced and could hardly meet Harry’s eye as he shook your hand, a teasing smile on his lips. Despite the interesting start to your friendship, it was one that grew to stand the testament of time. Harry meant the world to you, and you were the first person he’d call when he had too much to drink and needed a place to crash. Your friendship was great…
...if you ignored the tension.
A heavy air had descended over your friendship forever ago, perhaps from the first night you’d met, and it had never seemed to go away. You could never pinpoint what it was or where it stemmed from, but it was there in the way Harry’s fingers tapped along your thigh while he drove. Or the way he’d wrap his arm around your neck when you’d be standing with your friends, nose brushing over your hair every once in a while. Or the way he’d find his way into your bed during the early hours of the morning when he stayed over, burying his face into your neck, sleep claiming him once again.
For so long, your relationship teetered on that line between friends and something more. You’d thought that all friendships were different and this was just how yours was, but eventually you had to admit it to yourself that the lines were blurred. They always had been, and you wondered to yourself how you’d ever begin to unblur them. That was what you wanted right? 
“You mind if I crash at yours t’night? Your pullout is more comfortable than my bed.”
Harry’s voice pulled you from your trance, and you gave him a shaky nod. With a crooked smile, he pulled you closer, burying his nose into your hair as he led you to your apartment. The rest of the walk was quiet, and the silence felt heavy for some reason as you finally walked up the stairs. You guessed that Harry had way more to drink than you did because he wasted no time before heading to take a shower, clearly desperate to get what you guessed was some much needed sleep.
He’d made a habit of leaving clothes over at your place, so finding something to place on the bathroom counter for him was no hard task. The low timbre that was his voice could be heard as he hummed a few notes, and you busied yourself with warming up some leftovers, determined to get the taste of alcohol out of your mouth. You were done eating by the time he came out, and you wondered to yourself why this always happened.
If things between the two of you were tense and bordering the line of something more around your friends, then it was something else entirely when you two were alone. Harry liked to study you, emerald eyes focused on you any chance they got as he gave you his undivided attention. It made you feel like every twitch of your jaw, every frown, every grimace was accounted for. Nothing concerning you got past him.
Harry watched you like a lover.
“There’s plenty more in there,” you told him as he made his way into the kitchen.
“You shouldn’t eat so late,” he chided, and as you glanced at the ‘3:00’ on the microwave, you supposed that he was right.
You shrugged before standing, moving to put your dishes in the sink. You could feel him behind you, and you ignored the way goosebumps broke out over your skin. You weren’t surprised when his arms came around you, the appendages pulling you back into his chest. You glanced down at the ink that covered his arms and swallowed.
“Do you work tomorrow?”
Confusion filled you at his question, but you answered nonetheless.
“No. Why?”
You tilted your head to look at him, eyes widening a bit as you realized your lips were a hair’s width away from each other.
“Niall’s in town. He’s throwing a little get together and wants you to come…”
Something in his eyes gave you pause, and you got the feeling that he didn’t want you to go. Was it because you had a habit of letting go at any party you went to? Or was it because you and Niall got along so well? Almost as well as you and Harry. You resisted the urge to sigh at yourself, telling yourself that you were overthinking it. Maybe Harry didn’t want to go and was looking for an excuse not to.
Unfortunately, you hadn’t seen the blond singer in over a year and missed him too much.
“Sure! Just let me know what time…”
Harry swept his gaze over you, so quickly you thought you’d imagined it, before sending you a tight smile.
“Great.”
He left you, and as you turned back to your dishes and Harry made quick work of pulling out the couch, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he didn’t think it was so great.
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“I miss the blonde.”
That was the first thing you’d said to Niall, and he only laughed before pulling you into a tight hug. He hadn’t been around for nearly a year, but it did nothing to deter people from showing up. You could hardly move through the large apartment without brushing shoulders with someone. Harry had long left you to get something to drink, but you surmised that the brunette got distracted with either a familiar face or a pretty one. Maybe both.
By now you were way more relaxed than you were when you arrived, alcohol coursing through your system as you chatted with Mitch and Charlotte. The guitarist and piano player were catching you up on what you and Harry had missed last night after you left the bar. Something about cheating boyfriends and a fight. You were mid laugh when you glanced over and made eye contact with someone you thought you’d never see again. 
An old flame. Someone whose name you didn’t even want to speak let alone think. You two had never been official or anything, keeping things casual, but the eventual fall out had been messy and certainly wasn’t something you wanted to revisit. His jet black hair looked as neat as ever, bright eyes wide from some fashion drug, no doubt, and you suddenly had the urge to hide yourself away.
“I’ll be right back. Need to use the bathroom,” you told the pair before you.
You excused yourself before they had a chance to reply, making your way down the extensive hallway before depositing yourself in the very last room. You didn’t even know that him and Niall were friends, but you couldn’t blame the Irish singer for his actions. Your fling with the man in there had been lowkey, kept under wraps, so it’s not like Niall would’ve known.
Harry did though, and luckily for you, he was the one that intruded on your solitude.
“There you are,” he drawled, closing the door behind him. “I saw Andy come in...figured I’d find you hiding somewhere.”
You rolled your eyes with a shrug.
“I’m a coward. What else is new?”
You started to stand, but paused when Harry joined you on the bed, reaching into his pocket.
“What are you doing?”
“Well,” he started, pulling out the blunt and a lighter. “I had planned to welcome Niall back properly, but I think you need it more than him.”
You couldn’t hold back the laugh that bubbled in your throat, no attempt to deny his statement. You accepted as he passed it to you, unable to remember the last time you’d gotten high. You didn’t know how many minutes passed like that, the both of you sitting next to each other in silence, but eventually, like always, you felt Harry’s gaze on you. It was warm and pressing, and when you looked up at him, he didn’t bother to look away.
He was never ashamed of getting caught.
“Why do you do that?” you suddenly asked him.
“Do what?” he wondered.
The smirk on his pink lips and the mischievous glint in his eyes told you that he knew exactly what you were talking about, and you told him as such. His smirk simply grew, and when you reached for the blunt, he held it out of reach. You didn’t know what game he was playing at, but he brought it up to his lips instead, and your eyes widened with realization as he neared you. You knew what Harry was going to do, and while you were unsure if you wanted him to, you didn’t make any moves to stop him. You were paralyzed.
The last time you kissed Harry, you could barely remember what it felt like...what he’d felt like. Not this time. His lips met yours, the feel of them soft and tasting faintly of alcohol. For a moment, you forgot that he wasn’t just kissing you, and your eyes fell closed as you basked in the feel of him. Parting your lips, you inhaled the smoke that escaped his own, and your lashes fluttered at the feel. Harry held himself there for a moment, letting you breathe it all in before eventually pulling away.
Your heart was pounding.
There was a grin on his face when his eyes met yours again, and you watched in awe as he stood up, holding out his hand. As you took it, allowing him to pull you to your feet, you wondered to yourself how he did it. How could he be so casual while you were still reeling, feeling like you’d inhaled not only the smoke, but him as well? How could he take your friendship in his hands and dance along the line so well? Getting so close, but never fully crossing it.
It amazed you and terrified you in ways that left your head spinning.
The rest of the party went by without incident, and you and Andy avoided each other like the plague. Or perhaps, he could have been avoiding you. Harry’s constant presence might have contributed to that. Even now, as you relaxed in the backseat with Harry while Niall gave you a ride back to your place, you could recall the feather light touches of Harry’s fingers on your arm, your shoulder, your neck and even your back.
When you finally made it to your apartment, you both waved Niall goodbye, telling him you’d see him tomorrow. Harry, having way more to drink than you did, was a bit unsteady on his feet, but was far from wasted. However, you wondered how true that really was when your back met the wall the minute the door was closed. Harry was closer than he ever was, hands pressed into the wall at your sides, nose brushing over yours.
Too shocked by the position you found yourself in, you merely stared at the brunette. Your lips parted, but no words came out, and his green gaze was drawn to the action. Reminding yourself that you needed to breathe, you did so, heart skipping a beat when your chest brushed against his with the action. There was that look again, like he was trying to devour you and figure you out all at once, and you brushed your tongue over your bottom lip.
“Harry, I think that you’re…”
Your words died on your tongue when Harry’s lips met yours for the second time that night. This wasn’t like your first kiss all those years ago where you were drunk and thought he was your boyfriend. It wasn’t even like the one earlier that only served a purpose to get you a little high. This was a real kiss, one done with the intention of creating butterflies in your stomach and pulling moans from your throat. You didn’t know why Harry was kissing you, and while this uncharted territory scared you and made you want to shrink in on yourself, you couldn’t find the strength to voice your fears.
Harry’s hands were on your neck, fingers grazing the hair at the nape as he tilted your head whichever way he liked. His lips completely covered yours, leading in a way you’d never experienced before. You’d kissed a lot of guys, some of them bad, some of them great, but none like Harry. Every brush of his fingers had you trembling, and a low whine had climbed out of your throat just as your phone rang. 
Startled by the sound, you both jumped apart, and you pressed your hand to your mouth as you stared at him with wide eyes. You were positive that your apprehension and confusion was clear as day in your eyes, but Harry’s heated gaze reflected nothing of the sort. You swallowed at the way they darkened, the hunger in them as they narrowed, almost daring you to answer the call. Against your better judgement, you did just that, and hurriedly brushed past him as your mother started talking on the other end.
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You had locked your door that night, and if Harry had tried to give into his usual habit of sleeping in your bed in the early hours of the morning, you were none the wiser. He had been gone when you woke up, and you didn’t even bother to swallow your sigh of relief. You hadn’t been ready to face him, ready to confront the shift in your relationship, and even an entire week later, that hadn’t changed. You’d always been a coward, but now there was no denying it.
You were avoiding Harry.
Most of his texts were only replied to with one or two word answers, and any talk of meeting up was deterred with some half assed excuse you’d come up with. You didn’t know how to navigate this new territory you found yourself in. You didn’t even know if you liked Harry in that way. Of course, someone would be a fool not to, but you’d never been the smartest of the bunch. Your apprehension was because of more than just him being an international heartthrob though.
Harry always behaved in a way that blurred the lines of your friendship. There was a time when you accepted that it was just who he was, but you were forced to rethink that when you noticed that he didn’t behave that way with anyone else. There were a few moments over the years where you wondered if he was just biding his time, teasing you with his intentions, dangling the inevitable in your face time and time again.
It was clear that he’d gotten tired of teasing.
Unfortunately, with Niall in town, you couldn’t avoid the man forever. No matter how much you wanted to, you couldn’t refuse Niall when he’d asked you to come out on one of his last nights. Even though you knew Harry would be there. It was how you found yourself stepping inside of the dark club with a grimace.
Neon lighting lit up the establishment, and you could hardly hear yourself think with how loud the music was. With the daunting crowd before you, it was a miracle that Niall had even spotted you, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards whatever table they’d claimed for the night. He was there. Even with your eyes fixated on your feet, you could feel that suffocating stare that never failed to make your stomach turn.
Only you could never figure out if it was in a good way or bad one.
You slid in across from him, and you finally lifted your eyes to meet his green ones. As usual, he was shameless in his perusal, dark curls resting messily on his head in a way that only he could pull off. He was sipping on a drink he’d bought, head tilted ever so slightly at you as he smirked behind the glass. Unable to hold firm under his scrutiny and judgement, you excused yourself under the guise of getting a drink.
You had to lean against the counter as you made it to the bar, taking a few deep breaths. You thought to yourself that this night was going to be harder than you thought, and with that, you ordered the strongest drink you could think of. The bartender had just walked away when you were startled by the sight of familiar hands pressing into the bar on either side of you. You felt his chest at your back a moment later, and you both sharply inhaled at the same time.
“Why ‘ave you been avoiding me?”
You weren’t surprised that he got straight to the point, so you decided to follow his lead.
“You kissed me,” was your simple response.
He didn’t respond right away, and if possible, you felt him step closer, chest flush against your back now. You felt him lean in, and your skin pricked when his lips grazed your ear.
“Did you not want me to?” he lowly asked.
The question seemed rhetorical in nature, but you answered anyway.
“Yes...no… I don’t know,” you sighed.
Against your better judgement, you turned around in the cage he’d made of himself, and your eyes met his as your back pressed into the bar.
“We’re friends, Harry,” you told him.
His eyes glinted with something that struck fear into you, the corner of his pink lips curving upwards into a mocking smirk.
“We’ve never been friends...and you know it.”
You didn’t respond to his words, to what you had long been denying, and instead you looked to the ground.
“I like what we have,” you murmured. “I don’t know if I want you in that way.”
“Then let me help you find out,” he whispered.
Those words traveled straight to your stomach, and you ignored the heat that flared within you. You turned to grab your drink that the bartender brought, and Harry slowly straightened, releasing you. Without meeting his eyes again, you rushed past him to join your friends. The tense air between you two remained for the rest of the night. Despite how much you wanted to just leave, you didn’t want to disappoint Niall, and so you endured it.
You put up with Harry’s heated and predatory gaze. You endured that mocking look in his eyes, equally scornful smirk on his lips every time your stare met his. Even when you found yourself on the dance floor, his fingers dancing along whatever sliver of skin you’d decided to show. However, if you were being honest, that wasn’t something you forced yourself to endure. The trail of fire that his fingers left in their wake proved that.
Unsurprisingly, you had your limit, and the time came where you couldn’t take anymore.
“I’ll see you soon, alright?” you told Niall, pulling him into a hug.
“You’re no fun anymore. It’s not even 12! I remember when you didn’t even slow down til 4,” he chuckled.
“It’s just one of those days,” you sighed.
He let you go, and you waved everyone goodbye. The only one who didn’t return it was Harry, and you got the feeling that he had no intentions of wishing you a good night.
Not yet.
You took a much needed shower when you got home, and the hot water did the trick of washing your stress away. Even in the confines of your bathroom, you could still feel Harry’s hungry gaze, and you wondered to yourself if this was it. If this was the point of no return for your friendship. Body still buzzing with the after effects of Harry’s presence, you decided to clean up the apartment a bit. When that was done, you cooked a snack, no mind given to how late it was.
It was a little under 2 hours later, nearing 2 in the morning, when there was a knock on your door. Despite the fact that you knew who it was, a sinking feeling in your gut that told you all you needed to know, you still asked.
“It’s Harry,” he drawled, and you noted that he didn’t sound drunk.
You didn’t know if that relieved you or not.
With a sigh, you stood in front of the door for what felt like the longest time. You debated with yourself on whether or not to let him in. Despite the weird limbo the two of you seemed to be in, he was still your friend, and yet… Somehow...you knew… You knew that if you let him in, your friendship would change forever. You didn’t know how you knew, but you just knew. Still, eventually you sighed and reached for the door, telling yourself that such a prediction was not a guarantee. 
Harry’s eyes were clouded with something you couldn’t -or didn’t want to- name as you opened the door. He’d taken off his jacket, and you wondered how the cold didn’t affect his bare arms. Neither one of you said anything as he strode inside, and you quickly turned to face him as you closed the door. You didn’t like the idea of turning your back to him. You pressed yourself to the door as he merely stared at you, a dark curl hanging into his face, and you exhaled.
“I’ll leave some clothes in the bathroom,” you quietly told him as you stepped by.
He didn’t follow, and you were grateful, quickly finding him something to sleep in. He was nearing the bathroom just as you left it, and you folded your arms over your chest as he eyed you.
“You know how to get the couch sorted. See you in the morning?”
His uncharacteristic silence unnerved you, and you fought the urge to squirm under his piercing gaze. He ran his eyes over you, slowly, and you swallowed. Harry’s gaze snapped to the action, eyes tracing your throat before lingering on your lips. Eventually, his eyes met yours again, lips pulling into a humorless crooked smile as he brushed past you, shoulder grazing yours.
“Of course.”
You blinked as the door shut behind you before forcing your feet to move. You shut your bedroom door behind you just as the sound of running water could be heard, and you hadn’t even realized that your fingers were trembling. You turned towards your door, hand hovering over the knob as you remembered what had transpired the last time that he was here. Your heart pounded beneath your chest, and confusion filled you as you mulled over what you may or may not want. Pulling your lip between your teeth, you back away, leaving the door unlocked, and you slipped into bed.
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You didn’t know what time it was when you heard the soft click of your door snapping shut. It was hardly loud by any means, but it woke you nonetheless. Blinking a few times, you stared into the darkness before the overwhelming sense of being watched gripped you. Pushing yourself up with your elbows, you took in Harry’s form as he stood at the end of your bed.
“Mind if I crawl in?”
Weeks ago, you would have said yes without hesitation, but now you didn’t know if you minded or not. Even in the dark, you couldn’t escape that paralyzing gaze, and for some reason, you got the sense that Harry wouldn’t leave even if you did mind. At least not right away...not without making you squirm a bit first.
You pulled the covers back, a silent agreement, but you were stunned when Harry merely gripped them and pulled them completely off of the bed and out of your hands. Your eyes widened as he pressed a knee into the mattress, crawling over you, wasting no time before his lips met yours in a heated kiss. You had no time to process what was happening, Harry immediately finding comfort in between your parted legs.
If you thought the kiss before was real, then it was nothing compared to the way he kissed you now. The one before was almost immature in nature, timid in comparison, and it wasn’t hard to pinpoint why. Harry kissed you like a man starved, finally getting what he’d been craving, what he’d gone so long without.
You could hardly move as he had you pinned beneath him, fingers dancing up your legs, taking your t-shirt with them as they went. You finally felt like you could breathe when he dragged his lips down to your jaw, pressing kisses there before shifting his attention to your neck instead. It was insane. With how many guys you’d slept with, none of them came close to making you feel how Harry did. And he was barely laying a finger on you.
You felt him pull at your underwear, a gasp escaping you when he dragged them down your legs. Was this really happening? Was this something you wanted to happen? If you wanted, there was still time to salvage this friendship, to stop things before they truly went too far. Despite your own conflicted feelings on the matter, you opened your mouth to do just that, but Harry’s lips swallowed your words, long fingers finding their way inside of you.
You gasped into his mouth, only just now feeling his rings press into your skin, shudders wracking your frame as he played with you. In and out. That was all you could comprehend, how he moved them within you, curling them with every thrust and every flick of his wrist. Harry groaned as he tasted the inside of your mouth, pulling away to sit up on his knees. You were a squirming mess beneath him, and he pressed his other hand onto your stomach to hold you down when your back lifted from the bed.
Your head was thrown back, mouth parted and eyes focused on your ceiling. Every attempt to swallow down a moan was unsuccessful, and it wasn’t long before his own name started to tumble from your lips. You wrapped one hand around his wrist, nails pressing into his skin as he pushed his fingers into you, the sound of your arousal filling the room. Your other hand wrapped around his arm, holding on as your climax creeped up on you, crescendoing until you were shaking beneath him, feet pressing into the bed while Harry watched you come undone.
You still shook as he withdrew from you, and you watched as he wrapped his lips around his fingers, a low moan escaping at the taste of you. His lashes fluttered closed, like he was savoring it, and when he opened his eyes again, they were the most serious you’d ever seen them. The seconds that followed were a blur.
Your shirt was easily ripped off of you, and Harry’s own clothes soon followed, landing on the floor just as he settled over you again. He took your face into his hands, drinking you in with a look that scared you. It wasn’t just triumph, but it was satisfaction and yearning and possessiveness all rolled into one. It was so similar to how he always looked at you, but it was also so different. You thought that you had seen through him, could read him so well, but this was a rude awakening.
Harry had hid much more than you could have ever imagined.
He kissed you again, pressing his lips against yours so fiercely, you were sure they’d bruise. The cool metal of his rings pressed into your jaw, and he breathed into your lips, his lower half shifting, lifting, just before he flipped you over. A gasp escaped you when the room spun, and you blinked as you adjusted to this new position on your stomach. Harry’s fingers fisted into your hair, lips grazing your neck, and that was all the warning you got.
A choked moan escaped you when he thrust into you, your warm walls welcoming him like he belonged there. Perhaps he did, and perhaps Harry had known that all along. He moaned into your neck, the sound deep and shaky, the vibrations traveling through your heated frame. He held himself there for the longest time, just delighting in the feel of you wrapped around him. You did the same, eyes falling closed at your fullness, at how Harry seemed to stretch you so good.
One hand was still in your hair, the other pressing into your waist as he pulled back until only the tip of him remained before he snapped his hips against you. Your eyes flew open, your gasp bleeding into breathy moans as Harry set an unrelenting pace. Every curve of his hips had your toes curling, and you wondered to yourself why you hadn’t done this sooner. What had you been so afraid of? As Harry pressed kisses to your neck, fingers tightening in your hair, you remembered what you had been so afraid of.
Yes, Harry had always looked at you like a lover, but never like a lover that he was trying to court, that he hoped would be his. He looked at you like he already knew what you tasted like, felt like. Harry looked at you like a lover that was already his. No matter how many men you’d slept with nor how many drunken makeout sessions you’d participated in, Harry always looked at you like you belonged to him.. He touched you like you were his, wrapped you up in his arms, slid in behind you during the early hours of the morning before the sun even rose like you were his.
You feared what would happen when you finally were.
Your hand clutched the pillow, other fingers scraping the sheets as he pushed himself in and out of you. You could hardly speak, let alone keep your eyes open, and you squeezed them shut, fingers tightening on the pillow with every snap of his hips. You bit your lip, embarrassed by the sounds he was drawing out of you, but despite your efforts, soft whimpers found their way into the air.
“You feel so good, pet,” he breathed. “Doing so well…”
You clenched around him at his praise, and his deep chuckle reached your ears.
“You like that, do you?”
Certain that you were drawing blood by now, you released your lip, a shaky sigh escaping you. The sound of skin slapping against skin overshadowed everything else, and you pressed your forehead against the sheets. Harry had you caged beneath him, his other hand leaving your waist and pressing into the mattress beside your head. Your scalp burned from his tight grip, and your core burned even hotter from his thrusts. When you peeled your eyes open again, you were surprised to find your vision blurry, and it was only after you blinked did you take note of the tears kissing your lashes.
Crying during sex was a first for you, but it couldn’t be helped. Harry was fucking you so good, and you wondered how you’d ever go to anyone else. A laugh threatened to bubble in your chest, but all that escaped was another moan. As if Harry would ever let you… The way he touched you, kissed you, fucked you...it made you think that he wasn’t planning to let you go anytime soon.
You could feel your stomach tightening, and you reached back to twist your fingers into his dark curls. He groaned at the action, picking up his pace, and his name slipped from your lips again and again and again. Each time a bit higher than the last, and the coil within you snapped, your core clenching and fluttering around his cock. He stilled against you, dewy chest pressed to your back as he spilled into you, flooding your insides with a low moan.
You weren’t even able to catch your breath before he was maneuvering your head to kiss you. He swallowed what little breath you had left, pulling out of you and rolling you onto your back, never breaking the kiss. Your eyes were barely open when he pulled away, and you moved to chase his lips with your own, missing the feel of them already, but his hands on your face prevented you from doing so.
You stared at each other for what felt like a long time, your lashes fluttering as you gazed into his eyes. Harry’s thumbs brushed circles into your skin, and his eyes glinted with something unknown as his lips pulled into a smirk. With a satisfied chuckle, he leaned down to kiss you again. 
~
tags: @lokislastlove​ @honeychicana​
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getlostsquidward · 3 years
Text
I Wish (Part 2)
Carol Aird x fem!reader
A/N: Here you go!! Hope you like it <33
WC: 1.8k
Warnings: Mention of a slight anxiety attack
Summary: You and Carol settle your feelings for each other.
Part one
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The hug was all Carol thought about for the next two days and the way you called her formally again. If you had just completed your confession, she would have risked it all for you. Not that she wouldn't, but she needed to know you're in the same boat.
The older woman didn't feel like doing anything. Avoided everyone as much as possible except calling Rindy once in a while. Florence was on vacation, and her daughter was at Harge's parent’s house. They probably won’t be back until tomorrow, she thought.
It was Monday, so you have to go to the Aird residence. You’re somehow agitated to see Carol again, afraid that you had overstepped your limit on that hug. That damned hug. You promised yourself not to indulge in any alcohol when you are in the presence of Carol so you wouldn't do anything stupid that you might regret later.
You knocked at the door, expecting Carol's beautiful face, but only silence answered you. You knocked again, "Hello? Is anyone home?" Silence. Confused, but mainly worried, you tried opening the door and it wasn't locked. Normally, Carol welcomed you, or if she's doing something, Rindy or Florence would open the door for you. There's not a sign of them in the living room. You went into the kitchen, no luck.
"Anybody home?" Carol heard someone from downstairs. Assuming it was Abby, she ignored it and turned her back to the door, in hopes of her friend won't bother her because she was ‘asleep’.
Still no answer, you went upstairs. Her car is parked outside and Harge's wasn't, so you went to the guest room, the room you know she sleeps in when her husband isn't home.
"Carol? Are you there? It’s Y/N." You called softly. Silence once again engulfing you, you proceeded to go back downstairs until you heard some shuffling from the room. Carol abruptly opened the door. Her hair was disheveled, has dark bags under her eyes, so worry flooded your chest. You held her shoulder, "Are you okay? Are you sick?"
Seeing concern paint your features, she replied "I-I'm fine. Just a little headache." She hated lying to you but she couldn't tell you either that you caused her unusual behavior the last two days.
"Have you eaten? Drink medicine? I'll make something if you-"
Carol shook her head, "I just-" "Can you get me a glass of water, please? Thank you." Nodding your head, you all but sprinted down the stairs to get her water. Knowing that she hasn't eaten yet, you made her a sandwich in haste so you go can go back up immediately.
When you get to her room, she's sitting on the edge of the bed, fiddling with her thumbs. You set down the tray on the nightstand and sat beside her. You sat in comfortable silence and wait for her to speak first.
“Rindy is with her grandparents today. They wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. I should’ve called you earlier. I’m so sorry for wasting your time-” You cut the rambling woman by squeezing her shoulder, “It’s fine, Carol. I have nothing better to do anyway. Since Rindy isn’t here I might as well babysit you instead, if you don’t mind my company.” You chuckled lightly, trying to soften the mood. I’ll be glad to spend all of my time with you.
You stood up and went to the window, missing the faint blush on the blonde’s cheek. “I don’t mind, darling. I'm much better now that you’re here. Thank you for gracing me with your presence.” Carol replied. You always found it pleasing how conversation easily flows between you two. Sometimes she will shoot you a flirty remark that made you flush, and some days you step up and subtly flirt back.
“How’s college, sweetheart? I hope you haven’t been slacking.” She joked, and you playfully scoffed at her. You know what? I have been distracted lately because there’s this person that occupies my mind 24/7. “What? Of course not.” You rolled your eyes lightheartedly. “A little distracted but it’s alright, I guess. We have research ongoing and it’s a bit stressful, but nothing I couldn’t handle.”
“Distracted? I hope going here three times a week isn’t taking much of your time.”
“No, it’s not.” You opened the window slightly to feel the breeze of the air outside. You closed your eyes and inhaled the fresh air that surrounds the countryside. The tranquil atmosphere in this area always gives you the solitude you seek. You didn’t notice that Carol had moved until she ducked her chin on the top of your head. You shot your eyes open and tensed at the contact. You can feel her faint heartbeat on your back that made your breath hitch.
“Hmm, if it wasn’t because of work, was it perhaps, because of a lover?” You can feel her teasing grin against your head. Feeling a little brave, you might as well tell her into a tiny and vague detail, since you were about to confess to her two days ago.
“It is, actually.”
“Oh? Tell me about this man, Y/N.”
You elected to ignore the bitterness in her voice and that she thought it was a man. “This person is... very charming. The elegance that oozes out of them captivates everyone in the same room as them. They look at me like I hung the stars. Sometimes I think they enchanted me or something.” You smile, losing yourself in the thought of Carol. “Even the way they smoke is mesmerizing to me. If they told me to jump a cliff, I know I would.” You chuckled to yourself. “I just hope they know they can count on me. If it comes down to the time that the world would be against her, I would hold her hand and stand by her side.”
“So it’s a her.”
That brought you out of your daydreaming. You got away from her hold and put as much distance you could, still facing her. The look on your face was like a deer caught in a headlight. Words were stuck in your throat. “I- I uh- I was-” You looked at every corner of the room, anywhere except her face and crossed your arms to your chest to shield yourself from the woman’s gaze. You chewed your lip and started clawing and scratching your left arm as if an insect has bitten that spot. Carol knew that that movement was one of the tells that you were getting anxious.
The blonde gestures you to sit at the bed. She cupped your cheek gently, “Breathe, sweetheart, breathe.” You leaned into the touch, held her wrist and pressed your thumb at the spot where her heartbeat is. The calm beat made you relax, heaving out a deep sigh.
“I understand, darling. You don’t have to be afraid.” A tear slid down from your eye but she caught it with her thumb. “There’s nothing wrong with a woman loving another woman.”
It’s now or never. Better tell her what you feel and face the rejection right now than bottle it all up then explode later. You tightened your grip on her wrist, soft enough to not hurt her, and met her loving eyes.
“I’m in love with you, Carol.”
“I’m in love with you, darling.”
You both said at the same time. The shock from each other’s confession mirrored your faces. Neither of you moved until Carol leaned in to kiss you. She glanced at your lips, then your eyes, and you nod once giving her consent to close the distance. She placed a chaste kiss on your lips and pulled away, leaning her forehead to yours. The limp arms on your side seemed like they’ve been alive and slipped their way to Carol’s waist and pulled her close again. The kiss was getting heated as Carol swiped her tongue on your bottom lip seeking entrance. You let her in as you both fight for dominance. Teeth and tongue clashing. Every word you haven’t been able to tell before is now spoken through this moment. Carol isn’t just the missing piece, but she completed your puzzle pieces together. You didn’t know when you moved but you’re now straddling her lap, her tongue still in your mouth. This is nice. This feels right.
Feeling light-headed, you pulled back and Carol brought her attention to your jaw. You let out a soft moan that made her nip at your pulse point.
You finally solved the riddle of your heart. It was Carol all along. You can clearly remember the times you spent in each other’s presence. The way you look at each other like you’re the only person in the room. The simple gestures from her; making you a cup of tea and draping you in a blanket when you and Rindy cuddled and sleeping by the fireplace waiting for them to come home. You didn’t know how Carol kissed your forehead one too many times she catches you asleep on the sofa. It’s all visible to you now. You’ve been too blinded by your self-doubt to see what’s in front of you all this time.
You giggled at this realization. Instead of pining after one another, you could have had Carol in your arms long ago. Carol pulled away from your neck and cocked her head, “What’s so funny, darling?” Flashing you a playful smile.
“Nothing. It’s just that,” Carol poked the side of your waist making you jerk sideways. “We could have done this before if I have been brave enough.” You said, still giggling but seriousness was laced in your voice. She tapped your thigh so you got up and plopped across the bed.
“Hush now, darling. None of that.” She laid next to you. “You are one courageous girl, and I admire you for it. In fact, you’re braver than me, sweetheart. Plus, we can always make up for the lost time,” Carol faced you and she now had that expression that you always find hard to read. “You know no one must know of this, right? As much as I want to hold you all of the time, darling, there’s..”
“I know, Carol.” Your eyelids are now getting heavy. “I know it will be hard, but as long as you’re by my side..” Carol’s alluring features was the last thing you saw before succumbing to slumber.
***
You woke up with an arm across your stomach and entangled limbs. Turning your head to the side, you see your lover peacefully sleeping with a small smile on her lips. Her problems are now at the back of her mind, now focused on another good thing that has happened to her.
You were a turtle finding its way back to the sea and Carol’s waves have guided you home.
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yesimwriting · 3 years
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The Promise of Rain, blurb 2
The Promise of Rain (part 2?? technically) 
A/n I was not originally planning a second part for this but some people wanted it and this idea came to me and it works better with the context of ‘The Promise of Rain’ but it can technically be read as a stand alone :))
Anyways this might turn into a small series of kinda connected blurbs that are all kind of canon with each other but aren’t necessarily connected except for the reader’s background (the reader is a very sunshine-y person and knows Kaz bc she’s a runaway princess that he was hired to bring back home but she managed to convince him to let her work for him instead)
--
The night air had left me with a chill that made me want nothing more than to have my covers draped over me as I read. I’m normally more sociable after a job, especially after such a simple and safe ending, but a lot of tonight had left me wanting to be alone. 
Well, not truly alone. The company of my books is always welcomed, but tonight I can’t seem to find much comfort within the pages. After almost every paragraph, I find myself distracted by gusts of wind and thoughts of the heavy, silver clouds that seem to make up tonight. A part of me longs for the rain. I know it’s ridiculous to expect rain each time I desire some sense of comfort, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want it. Especially when the sky so clearly implies it. 
“This must be the fifth time I’ve come here and you’ve been reading.” Kaz’s sudden appearance is almost enough to shake away my lingering somberness. 
I roll my eyes slightly, turning my attention back to the page in front of me. “That observation is just a testament to how often you come in here.” 
His glare is half hearted, a look I’d find endearing if I was less annoyed. “Where else am I going to find a reminder that good people exist in Ketterdam?” 
I think he may have a sixth sense that warns him when I’m treading the line between being annoyed and displeased. Everytime I find myself mad at him in a way that makes me want to avoid him instead of yell at him, Kaz makes some ridiculously heart-melting comment. He steps further into the room. I don’t miss the way he eyes my stretched out legs. Ever since the conversation we had after he woke up after an injury, we’ve fallen into the unmentioned habit of silently inviting the other to stay by moving to make room for them. 
It had started the day after the conversation in which Kaz had admitted that he wanted me to stay with him. He had been sitting on the small couch while discussing the details of a job. Shortly after I walked in he made a point of shifting so that he was clearly on one side of the couch. I didn’t think much about sitting down, but Inej and Jesper exchanged a look. 
Now, though, I keep my legs stretched out on the bed. He eyes my position on the bed, something grim crossing his features. 
“It might rain tonight.” 
He knows me so damn well. I hate it. “I hope so.”
I turn my head, analyzing the way the world seems to be on the cusp of something. I stare at the silver clouds until I feel something hard tap my leg. The tap is firm but not painful. I’m quick to look at Kaz as he lowers his cane. The mention of rain had been a distraction. 
“You distracted me on purpose.” 
“The first rule of the Barrel is to always be prepared.” There’s a slight uptilt to his lips, something I’ve learned to interpret as a sign of teasing. 
How is he so easy to be around one second and so cold the next? I resist a smile. “I’ll take notes.” 
Kaz ignores my passive aggressive tone. His focus seems to be on my legs that have still not moved to offer him a place next to me. “You wear your emotions too openly.” Great, he’s going to make us talk about it. “What reason could you possibly have to be mad at me?”
“I’m not mad at you.” It’s a partial truth. 
His expression harshens. “Don’t lie.” 
“I’m not thrilled with you, but I don’t think that’s the same as being mad.” 
Kaz lets out a partial sigh. “No, they’re not the same.” Such an early concession feels like a trap. “With you, the first option is worse.” I don’t have anything to say to that. “Is this because of what I said to Jesper?” 
My posture straightens on instinct. “He wants your validation more than he’d ever admit and I understand that expressing praise isn’t exactly something you do, but would it kill you to not actively insult him?” 
“I didn’t say anything that was wrong. He thinks he’s a gambler but he’s just someone born for losses.” The look I give him must mean something to him, because Kaz is quick to tact on, “That doesn’t make him less valuable of an asset or less relatively dependable.” 
I eye him cautiously, the slightest bit of vulnerability playing at his features. “Don’t look at me like that--and don’t tell me that. Jesper’s the one who could use the occasional reminder from you that you hold him to any regard with positive connotations.” His lips press together like he’s thinking about scolding me for scolding him. “It’s only because I know you care more about Jesper than you’d ever let on.” 
“Jesper’s esteem can handle the blow.” The curtness of his voice is a blow in its own sense. “And he didn’t exactly deserve to be in my good graces after what he did tonight.” 
My sigh is not weighted enough to match Kaz’s newfound fountain of emotion. “We were successful--”
“He left you.” I didn’t know Kaz’s voice was capable of such harshness. “I paired him with you, and he left you--and you almost didn’t make it.” I let the weight of his words take up all the available space in the room, keeping the silence that follows them until some of the heaviness has dissipated. “He could have cost me one of my best people.”
Oh. His harshness, his unwarranted coldness, had been a manifestation of his concern. For me. Guilt knots my stomach. Potential words that may offer Kaz some sort of support raise and die back down in my throat. Kaz turns towards the door. 
“Kaz.” He pauses. There’s a long moment in which I think he won’t turn around, but finally, he does. I tuck my legs beneath me, forcing myself to sit up a little straighter. “I told Jesper to leave because I knew the job would have failed if he had been trapped in that room with me.” I drop my gaze towards the window. “I was right, the job was successful, and I got out in time so it was worth it.”
“You risked your safety?” The harsh facet of his being is making its return in full force. 
“For the job,” I’m careful to keep my words factual, “It’s what we’re supposed to do.”
Kaz’s jaw locks. “When I said that keeping you near me would ruin you this is what I meant.” 
Is it really this big of a deal? I made it out. “Kaz.”
“This wasn’t my best idea.” His words are leached of anything. “You’re going back home. Tomorrow I’ll arrange the voyage myse--” 
“Kaz Brekker you may get to live your life doing anything you want but you don’t get to control mine.” My chin raises an inch, an instinctual act of subtle rebellion. “I am not going back there, even if I’m technically indebted to you because you didn’t return me to my father but that does not mean I’ll--”
“I’m not trying to control you.” His words are sharp, boarding on a yell. “A job like that one wasn’t worth you.” 
From Kaz, I know those words are heavy. There’s a lot of things I could say to that. I could tell him that I wanted to do something for him. I could say that I appreciate him telling me that. I could even say that in his own way, Kaz giving Jesper a hard time because he left me, is kind of cute in a misguided way. The thing is I think all of these responses will make things worse. 
“Kaz,” I keep my voice as steady as possible, “I’m fine, you’re fine, it all worked out.” Scratching the back of my arm, I exhale gently. “I’ll be more careful next time, I promise.” 
I watch him carefully, there’s a slight slump to his shoulders as he exhales. Is the fight leaving him so easily? He walks further into the room. “You better.” He sits down in the space I provided for him slowly. “If you’re not you’ll have worse things to worry about than anything that can happen to you on a job.” He moves his cane forward easily, tapping my knee in a swift motion. 
I roll my eyes at the mock threat. “They do say that there’s nothing to fear in the Barrel like the Dirtyhands.” 
“Remember that.” Any edge in his voice is forced. I fight against a smile that seems to always want to break across my face whenever I think I see something resembling lightness in Kaz. 
“I don’t think I could forget anything about you.” 
He turns his head slightly. “You should.” 
“Too bad.” 
Kaz leans his back against the wall, untensing slightly. “I think you just like disagreeing with me.” 
There’s no point in lying about it. “Only because when you argue with me you give me this really particular look.” 
“A look?” 
Adding insult to injury, I smile. “Sometimes you look like you’re too focused on being angry, like you’re compensating for something.” 
Kaz lets out a bitter sigh. “Maybe if you were less of a puppy I wouldn’t have to--”
The laugh that escapes is most definitely a mistake. “Did you just call me a puppy?” I don’t give him a chance to reply, laughter taking over again. “I mean this in the least argumentative way possible--but you’re so weird sometimes.” 
He rolls his eyes, tensing. “I’m leaving.”
I stifle the rest of my laughter. “No. I was--I was kidding!” I keep my eyes on Kaz, expecting some type of annoyed glare, but his expression is a lot more weighted than that. Odd. “Kaz?” 
“You need to be more careful.” I understand Kaz’s pause as something he does before saying something outside of his nature. “I’m not asking you this as a Crow or a Dreg.” 
On instinct, my posture straightens. “I promised and I meant it.” 
“Sometimes I wish I could believe in Saints,” his voice has taken off a distant quality, almost fragile, “That way I could believe something existed to help what matters.” 
Oh. “You never fail, even if I didn’t believe in Saints I’d believe in you.” 
“You’re wasting your faith.” The sound of lightning cracking is almost enough to make me jump. The rain finally came. 
I know I’ll never convince him that that’s not true. “I don’t think so, but that’s why it’s called faith.” 
“I have faith in some things.” His expression is far off. 
“Like what?” 
Kaz’s eyes find the window. “People that find meaning in the rain.” 
Something in my chest swells. “You’re like the rain.”
We sit there in silence, watching raindrops glide down the window. “What were you reading?” 
The question has me dropping my gaze to the forgotten book on my lap. “I stole this book from the palace before I left. It was my mom’s favorite, she’s read it so much the spine’s completely cracked and the cover is practically falling off.” 
“Hm…” He mumbles. “Read some, the books read in a palace must be worthwhile.” 
A part of me wants to tell him that elitism has no place in literature, but his request leaves me frozen. I nod once, turning to the first page of the book. “It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife--” 
“Your upbringing makes sense--” 
“You can’t judge it off the first sentence,” he’s insufferable, “It’s setting up irony, and if you’re going to complain--” 
He lets out a conceding sigh. “I’m listening, I’m not interrupting.” 
I keep my eyes on him for a second longer than I should. “Okay.” Dropping my gaze back to the book, I adjust my grip on the worn paperback, “Good.” 
And then I keep reading. 
--
@theincredibledeadlyviper @grishaverse7 @lonelystarship @mentally-in-northern-italy @uhanddreag 
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