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gtgbabie0 · 2 months

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Hi! I’ve got a request please for Aegon after he’s injured at Rook’s Rest where wife!reader won’t leave his bedside just watching him rest and helping care for him and soothing him when he’s able to wake up 🥺

-Aegon Targaryen x Wife!Reader

{The days following Rooks Rest were spent by Aegon’s side and no where else}

Thank you for the request!! Enjoy my lovelies 💕

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It was a day just like the last, the morning sun was blocked behind the thick tapestry that hangs over the huge windows. It casts a hazy light through the chambers, the smoke from the candles dances through the soft rays of sun that peak between the gaps.

The chair beside Aegon’s sick bed was your new home, you slept and ate there- well what little you could stomach. The Maesters had advised you to get proper rest, urging you out of the room whenever they had to tend to him. However, all their complaints went in one ear and out the other.

You were adamant and so they all soon gave in, the desperation in your eyes must’ve spoken to something deep in Grand Maester Orwyle.

The sound of Aegon’s shallow breaths is the only sound that breaks through the silence, along with the faint crackle of candle flames that were starting to die out. You were almost on the cusp of sleep, your head tipping to the side as you try to fight off the heavy weight of exhaustion.

Although your attempts are futile, there was a restlessness that had coiled itself around your body holding you from finding peace ever since they had brought your husband back to the Red Keep in that wooden box, the memory still stirs your stomach unpleasantly.

Shaking the thought off you lean forward slightly, reaching over to brush his hair away from his face, your knuckles grazing over his unburned cheek. His skin is warm to the touch, hot with the leftover remnants of a fever he had not long broken.

You stare at him, watching him sleep so soundly that he almost looks at peace. If it weren’t for his pained expression and the way he weakly fists at the bedsheets then perhaps you might’ve tricked yourself into believing he was fine… just resting as the Maesters put it.

You dip a cotton cloth into the basin, wringing the water out before gently dabbing it against the untouched areas of his skin, the last parts of him that weren’t scorched. His body tenses up, and then a broken sigh passes through his chapped lips, the coolness brought him some relief if only for a few fleeting moments.

He sinks back into the comfort of the pillows as you bring the cloth over his chest, avoiding the marred skin. “… you’re still here?” He whispers, disbelief twinging through his broken tone, watching you through his bleary eye. He knows it’s you, despite the daze he is in. He can tell by the way you tend to him with a certain care that the Maesters didn’t have.

His voice sends a pang of hurt through your chest, hitting your heart. “Of course… I’m not going anywhere.” You whisper, going back over to the basin to fold the cloth back in its place before walking over to him once more.

He had been in out of consciousness since this morning when you had witnessed him speak vaguely to Orwyle, his words then were slurred almost incoherent.

“You don’t have to.” He rasps, his actions betraying his words as his fingers twitch weakly in a desperate attempt to hold your hand. You meet him halfway, clasping your fingers around his palm.

“No, I want to. I’m not leaving you Aegon.” You tell him, more of a reassurance than anything. To soothe him whilst he remains in this almost delirious state. He nods feebly, a smile ghosting over his features, the feeling of your thumb caressing the inside of his wrist brings him peace of mind.

Your gaze casts along his body slowly, the dragon fire had caused a web of marred flesh over his chest and arm, across his face. An unsettling sight of pinks and reds, darker in some places and lighter in others as they blended into a violent purple in some areas, it was all extremely sensitive that even the bedsheets seemed to cause him a great deal of agony.

He watches the way your eyes study him, taking in the horrid sight that has become of him. He hates it more than anything, the look of grief in your eyes for a life that he was no longer able to live, long lost within the very same flames that had nearly claimed him. He hates it, such a solemn emotion doesn’t suit you.

Aegon looks up at you as if it was his first time really seeing you since he was first brought home. He seemed much more aware than he did yesterday. His purple eye brimming with tears that he has no control over, not right now in this condition.

“You look exhausted.” He states the obvious, looking at the deep bags underneath your eyes, although you are well aware of the fact. It was his shallow breaths that kept you from sleeping, far too scared that he might pass whilst you were unconscious.

You hum in acknowledgement, not trusting your voice to carry your words without breaking into a sob. His fingers squeeze your own, a wordless understanding, so softly that you barely even notice it.

You collect yourself, clearing your throat. “I’m okay, shall I get the Maesters?” Your words immediately make him shake his head, a desperate noise of protest slipping past his lips.

“No, stay. I need you.” He tells you, leaning into your palm with a shaky sigh.

His hand reaches for the soft velvet of your dress, trying to urge you closer to him, keeping you there with a small pained whimper. You wrap your fingers around his hands softly, looking down at him, trying to stop him with worry in your eyes as he tries to sit up.

“Stop it Aegon, you’re going to hurt yourself. I’m not leaving just lay back.” You promise, urging him to rest back down against the pillows. He mumbles something that sounds more like a jumble of pained blusters, letting you guide him back to the comfort of the pillows.

“Sit down with me,” he whispers in a strained tone, noting the hesitation in your eyes as you look across his burned skin.

You do ask he asks, perching yourself down on the edge of his bed. Your eyes search his expression for any signs of discomfort, but you are met with only a weak smile as his hand rests against your lap.

He looks over to the chair beside his bed, the blankets and pillows that were placed over the cushions, the small tray of food on the table nearby that had been untouched… you really hadn’t left his side? The thought chokes him up.

“You’ve been sleeping in that old chair this entire time? Don’t be silly…” He says, working his fingers between your own, his thumb stroking across your wedding ring. “You should be in bed… sleeping.”

“What use am I to you if I’m in bed?” You ask him, looking down at his hand as he caresses the small gemstones on your ring.

It had become some sort of habit of his, over time as he let you into his heart little by little. It brought him comfort to know that you chose to stay with him, for all his faults you still found yourself caring for reasons that Aegon can’t seem to comprehend even now.

Aegon furrowed his eyebrows slightly, a weak scoff escaping his chapped lips. Your selflessness would forever puzzle him. “You are my wife, I won’t have you wasting away.” He spoke with a sternness, he was worried about you. How much sleep have you had- or food for that matter- if any at all.

You sigh, opening your mouth to argue with him but he quickly cuts you off. “You’d be no use to me at all by torturing yourself like this, you silly girl…” The words carry some truth, but you were stubborn.

“You worrying about me whilst you lay here…like this… that is silly Aegon.” You tell him, looking down at your lap to your joined hands as his thumb continues to idly rub over the wedding band.

He grunts, looking up at you with a small frown but he can’t be mad. He missed you far too much to spend these moments arguing. “You are frustratingly stubborn… I missed you.” He whispers, bringing your hand to his lips to press a kiss to your ring.

A smile tugs at the corners of your lips, letting him guide your hand to rest against his cheek. He leans into the warmth of your palm as your thumb caresses him once again.

“I’ve missed you… so much.” You breathe, words coming out hushed as you try to keep the tears from falling down your exhausted eyes.

He watches you with slight confusion as you suddenly scramble over to the tables beside your chair, grabbing something before joining him at his side once more. Before he can ask what you were doing you take his uninjured hand, gently pushing his own wedding ring onto his finger.

His heart stops for a moment, leaping into his stomach at the feeling. The affection, the gentleness, makes his throat close up and he can’t do much, rendered speechless as he stares up at you with disbelief.

“I thought you wouldn’t wake up… that you were-” dead… you can’t speak the word, you didn’t dear to, just in case in some sick turn of events it might come to fruition.

The tears fall freely, looking down at your wedding rings. A symbol that meant much more than just duty, you were entwined by the soul and heart, tethered to each other.

He reaches up to brush your tears away, his expression softening. “I’m here… I’m not going anywhere.” He rasps, hating the fact he can do more to soothe you. He’s never felt so useless before then he does right now.

“As am I… I’m not going anywhere.” your teary response makes him chuckle weakly.

“Come here…” he grunts, trying to play off the pain that was still searing through his body in hot flashes.

“No- I don’t want to hurt you.” You whisper, suddenly panicked as he tries to tug you down to him by his good arm.

He beckons you closer, his fingers curling around the back of your head. “You won’t… just please.” He begs meekly.

You steady yourself, pressing the palms of your hands against the mattress- being super vigilant of the burns that tarnish his body- as he lowers you down to kiss him. Your lips meeting his own gently before you pull away.

“No more. Rest before you overexert yourself.” You tell him sternly, getting up from the bed as he grumbles in a mixture of objection and pain, watching you walk back over to the wash basin. His complaints soon die down at the feeling of the cool damp rag pressing against his chest.

“Thank you.” He whispers, moulding back into the pillows. The chill it brings against his flushed skin was very welcomed.

“Shh, just relax.” You coo softly and it isn’t long before he’s drifting back off to sleep. His hand entwined with your own, your rings glistening underneath the soft candlelight, not willing to let go even in his unconscious state.

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astrologylunadream · 8 months

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Everything About Your Future Spouse +Traits & Initials 🌹👤💍 (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

Hi it's Lunadream~ This is my first future spouse reading for you guys, so let me know if you wanna see more readings like this one.❤️ We will learn everything on your future spouse and specific details about them. hope you find your message🥰

Notice: Only take what resonates because the most important thing is your own judgement!♡ If anything doesn't resonate, don't worry! It's not your message right now <3 This is a general reading for many people! (Entertainment purpose only. All rights reserved)

Now, shall we begin~? ^w^ Think of the your person, and pick whichever pile that fits the energy you're feeling~❤️

Pile 1🌹

Pile 2🪷

Pile 3💐

Pile 4🌷

Take your time and choose carefully with the heart~♡

On to the readings —> 💕

Pile 1🌹

Sign energy: Cold, Darling, Concert, Silence, Provide, Saturn, Aries, 5th house, 4th house, Sun,✔️♒️♋️🫡

🌹All about your future spouse: I kinda felt there would for sure be some successful energy from this pile's future spouse lol. Not necessarily prideful but definitely they know their worth, and I'm typically seeing an entrepreneur/family business thing going on with you two😍🏠💼 I love this couple's energy so much. Idk why but I'm getting some of you may be Aries-Aquarius relationship or Aries-Cancer relationship. They could have Capricorn, Aquarius, Aries, Leo, or Cancer placements in their chart. Omg your spouse will know how to mix work and play so well!! Like one minute they are serious down to business and the next dragging you off to a concert and jamming out with you LOL🤣 You guys may tie the knot sometime in winter. It's in the cards my pile 1's this person WILL PROVIDE.💸💰💍 Like your future spouse will dedicate so much to their family, and they will make a great parent I'm hearing for those who are interested in that😭💗 Omg so like at their work space they are super cold and sooo different from the way they are at home with their spouse/family, at home they are literally so sweet to their partner and love playing with their kids but they DON'T PLAY at work oml like people they work with will have mad respect for your future spouse, I'm kinda getting boss energy so that could be because everyone is under your future spouse or working for them.😎🪜🔝 They show authority to others I'm seeing people greeting your future spouse like saluting to them (maybe they're in high position), bowing to your future spouse, ect. Your future spouse is so soft spoken and sweet with my pile 1's, meanwhile at work they may be more stern or harsh. They don't mind stepping on toes to give everything to their family.🥺💐💞 Ride or die for their family vibes. Seriously you will mean so much to this person, you will be a huge highlight in your future spouse's life. It's so sweet, so loving.🥹❤️

💬Initials: X, F, V, U, R

📍Locations: North america, North, Australia, South, Europe (These can be significant to you or them, or places you meet, travel or live together🥰)

💼Occupations: Entrepreneur, Public figure, Manager, Business owner, CEO, Finance, Artist, Politician, Media Influencer, Property owner, High status official, Entertainment industry

💌Messages from your future spouse: I can't believe it, I can't look you in the eyes, You left an impression on me, Come to your senses, I'm so tempted (😍) Extra cards: Public image, Connection, Synchrony, Sagittarius, Cupid

Thank you my pile 1's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❤️

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 1 with the red rose emoji~🌹 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💋

Pile 2🪷

Sign energy: Eyebrows, Decor, February, Train, Siren, Chiron, 11th house, Water, South node, Earth,🦋🍋😰🌁

🌹All about your future spouse: Okay so definitely getting water sign energy with this one. Your future spouse has such adorable traits!!😩💗 They may be born in february so Pisces is likely. Aquarius, Earth or Water placements too. They may work online or have an online business, it's something really clever and innovative I'm hearing. Your future spouse will have a very delicate occupation like it's nothing extreme or dangerous it's actually super simple and successful.😇📨 This may be designing, home related, advertising, ect. I just feel like their job is so sweet idk why. It really suits them and they have such a calm and gentle work space. Your spouse will make money online or that is a source for them💸💻💫 You may connect with them through social media or that is where you first see them. They are intuitive and have exceptional ideas, I feel like they really think out of the ordinary.💡 For some of you this spouse may have a job that requires getting on a train🚆 My pile 2's your future spouse will be unique and very interesting to you.✨️ They will heal your past, like you can depend on them.🫂 Their eyebrows may be a noticeable physical trait of theirs. Your future spouse may live near a bridge or water, also you guys may have a small thing of growing your own fruits or vegetables?? For some of you that may be the case, it's really cute omg.🥺🩷 This will feel like a very healthy relationship for you both, a breath of fresh air. I feel like this person can be whatever you want them to be, like they will change for the better for you.💗 Omg can can we talk about how worried they get over you?? Like if you get injured or they think the slightest thing is bothering you, they will ask you what's wrong and comfort you until you feel better.😢🌧💞 Like they just know. Your future spouse has soft siren vibes imo, not the intense scary kind but the adorable floppy fish vibes idk??😂🤣 They are just there for you whenever you need them💓 This is a really soft and innocent relationship you guys will have. :D

💬Initials: F, Z, L, W, J

📍Locations: U.S.A, Turkey, Hawaii, Indonesia, Australia (These can be significant to you or them, or places you meet, travel or live together🥰)

💼Occupations: Brand owner, Home design, Online marketing, Architecture, Interior designer, Online business, Editor, Graphic design, Freelance artist, Social media management

💌Messages from your future spouse: I get lost in your eyes, All you have to do is ask, I'll tell them myself, Have you thought of me lately? I think you're a great person (They love my pile 2's vibe😊🩷) Extra cards: Above, Blood, Embrace, Union, Unrequited love

Thank you my pile 2's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❤️

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 2 with the pink lotus emoji~🪷 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! Wish you the best and see you in the next reading💋

Pile 3💐

Sign energy: Love letter, Wish, Spouse, Chiron, Long, Cancer, Aries, Mercury, 1st house, 3rd house,😭🥲🦇👅

🌹All about your future spouse: Wow interesting my pile 3's your future spouse is so recognizable, you will notice them right away.😍😍❤️ Prominent signs for them are Cancer, Aries, Virgo, and Gemini. They will be so into you from the start lol like serious about you. They will confess many times to ensure they have you, They could have long legs or something long in their appearance, their tongue could be.😶 Anyways they will speak to you first I'm hearing, it will not be hard for them to strike up a conversation with you. You will be shocked by their forward approach, they may be surprisingly honest in the beginning like "let's get this thing straight, I'm into you" kinda thing🤭❤️ But like once you become closer you will see how romantic and loving your future spouse gets with you!! They will compliment you and flirt with you so much, and probably the type to keep telling you they want to marry you.🏠🌹They are witty and romantic as hell. The type to brag about their family with you (if you have one) and tell others how in love with you they are. They will talk up my pile 3's so much.🥺💞 Their job may involve communicating with many people. Your future spouse will help you through things that have been affecting you for a while. You will really want to commit to this person I'm hearing, once they got you.. you won't wanna leave😝 They speak openly about the things they want and leave it out there waiting for you to fulfill them💋 Like saying they want affection without actually asking or telling you they're cold just to see if you'll cuddle them.🥺 This is so sweet, they know all the words to say to make you blush.🗣💌 Your future spouse will know they want to marry you upon first meeting or the early stages of the connection, also for some of you this person has been wishing and hoping to marry you or find you for a long time.⏳️ Once they have you they won't stop telling you how pretty/hot you are😳❤️‍🔥 They are great communicators, like really smooth.😎 Kisses with them will be💋👅 And hugs will be🫂😇 That is all I will say about that🙈 My pile 3's your future spouse will be so caring and doting to you, they will take good care of you guys!!

💬Initials: N, U, X, B, K

📍Locations: Canada, Finland, Peru, Africa, India (These can be significant to you or them, or places you meet, travel or live together🥰)

💼Occupations: Writer, Poet, Personal trainer, Motivational speaker, Public speaker, An activist of some kind, Family business, Preacher, Blogger, Screenwriter, News reporter, Broadcaster

💌Messages from your future spouse: I can't help myself, Just dance with me, I wish, There's distance between us, So what if we're a thing? Extra cards: Listen, Kitty, Ego, Enchanting, Comment (Yeah they are one with their words💬❤️‍🔥)

Thank you my pile 3's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❤️

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 3 with the flower bouquet emoji~💐 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! Wish you the best and see you in the next reading💋

Pile 4🌷

Sign energy: Hater, Age, Walk, Leo, 10th house, 7th house, 5th house, Gemini, Moon, Chiron,🧱🦥🔞🦄

🌹All about your future spouse: There is a lot going on with this pile.🤯 Your future spouse is someone very important, on the top of success in their field.🔝💼 They are charismatic and good with all kinds of people, they know how to gain respect🤝 You guys may have a significant age gap with this person, I'm getting they are older than most of you. My pile 4's feel more youthful, that is the vibe I'm getting from you guys. Your future spouse has a masculine energy and approach to things, very dominant feel. I'm getting model/acting/CEO/millionaire/high up official vibes.✨️ Take what resonates but I am seeing not everyone will approve of your relationship with them.😬🚫 For some of you this could be your mom or someone who is protective over you, they may not want you to marry this person. Your future spouse will be very well off in terms of finance💸 I'm getting the vibe they may push you guys away at first, maybe you want to rush into things with them but they don't think you are ready.✋️🤨 They may put their walls up at first, but eventually they will realize you are worthy and successful in their eyes.👑💍 At first your future spouse will come off dismissive of you since they are used to having many admirers that get on their nerves, your future spouse may have issues with gold diggers💰🧲 I'm seeing people tryna put their hands on them and they're just like 🙄 get the fk away. LOL they hate it. Everyone thinks they are one of a kind and want a piece of them, your future spouse will recieve so much attention.👀 Also people will be jealous of you and your spouse like why her/him??😒😤 Your relationship will be sought after by many. Your future spouse may also take walks often, that could be something you two do together.🥰 They will protect and provide for my pile 4's, nothing will get in their way of you guys seriously.🥺❤️ When you two are finally committed things will get spicy aswell❤️‍🔥

💬Initials: W, C, M, T, D

📍Locations: Turkey, Hawaii, Canada, Brazil, Thailand (These can be significant to you or them, or places you meet, travel or live together🥰)

💼Occupations: Public figure, Business owner, Entertainer, CEO, Entrepreneur, Model, Acting, Investor, Marketer, Producer, Fashion industry, Brand ambassador

💌Messages from your future spouse: You're talking nonsense, Smile for me, We might move too fast, You're my addiction, Listen up (Lol they're like listen here pile 4 you belong to them😭👇) Extra cards: Skin, Beach, Compulsive, Beloved, Expand (I'll leave it to you guys imagination on that one😳)

Thank you my pile 4's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❤️

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 4 with the tulip emoji~🌷 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! Wish you the best and see you in the next reading💋

Wanna see more readings like this? Check out my tumblr for accurate readings for you!💗🌊🌸

Thanks for reading! \(*^w^)/💌 -Lunadream <3

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piningforstan · 24 days

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I just recently found your page and love your work!!

can you write an angsty Stan fic where reader and Stan are still dancing around their feelings and reader finally gets the courage to confess to Stan but maybe overhears a conversation with him and Ford out of context saying he won’t date them and r is crushed? Then cue r trying to move on and jealous!Stan and then they get together somehow?

Thank you!!💕

I ended up placing this fic when Stan and Ford are still in high school before their falling out. I apologize if the timeline with Carla isn’t canon, I just wanted to include her. Also, reader is mentioned as a female a few times but this can easily be read as gender neutral.

I hope you like it!

You loved alcohol as much as you loved getting bamboo shoots shoved under your nail beds. But Carla “Hotpants” McCorkle had just broken up with Stan, and it was your duty as his best friend to support him. And if that meant drinking cheap beer on the beach with his brother, then so be it.

“I thought she was the one,” Stan grumbled. He crunched his empty beer can, belched, then reached for another.

You rolled your eyes. “You say that about every girl. Even that one you saw in a dream.”

You knew because you kept a detailed record of Stan’s revolving door of women, each declaration of love another stake in your heart. Secretly, you were pleased that Carla ended things with Stan. You could never date him in fear of ruining your friendship, but that didn’t mean you liked to see him with other girls. Especially not stuck-up bitches like Carla.

“I just dunno what she sees in this new guy.”

“He doesn’t litter?” Ford answered. He nudged the growing pile of discarded cans with his foot. Stan’s brother never drank, but he certainly lamented about how much the two of you did.

Stan continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “So what he can play guitar. Anyone can do that.”

“Can you?”

“No.” Stan angrily kicked up sand. “But I would learn if I thought I had a chance of winning her back.”

“You don’t need her,” you told him. The beer in you warmed you from the inside out, initiating the familiar tingling sensation in your legs that happened when you drank. “You’re Stan motherfucking Pines.”

Stan grinned at you. “You’re right. I don’t need her.” After slurping down the rest of his beer, Stan grabbed the bottom of your chair and pulled you closer. He pressed a sloppy kiss to your temple.

It wasn’t anything you weren’t used to — Stan happened to be very affectionate, even worse when he was drunk — but it still sent your pulse skyrocketing.

“I got the only girl I need right here,” Stan said, slinging an arm around your shoulders.

Your insides turned molten. Of course, you loved when Stan called you “his girl” but the sting of the words were especially painful in the wake of his breakup. You would never actually be his girl in the way that it mattered.

You could never jeopardize your friendship with Stan, or Ford. You had been inseparable since you were children, when Stan received a particularly nasty note about you in class and instead of passing it on promptly ate it. You took a likening to him immediately. And, since Stan was never without his brother for very long, Ford became the reasonable cornerstone of your friendship.

It wasn’t until a few years ago that you realized you saw Stan as much more of a friend. To be specific, when he successfully grew out his mullet and you fawned over it instead of throwing up in your mouth. On anyone else you might’ve. But it weirdly fit Stan, who you’d watched go from a weird, skinned-knee little boy to a weird, broad-shouldered man with dark curls that you desperately wanted to run your hands through.

Ford shattered the moment. “Why don’t you guys just date then?”

You’d both been asked the question before. It was expected, when a boy and girl were friends. Parents, nosy teachers, old ladies peering at you from wiry glasses. Usually the two of you fielded the question with various degrees of hilarity — “he gave me an STD” or “that’s my sister!” — but tonight it felt profoundly different.

Perhaps it was because you were so close, physically. Or perhaps because you had confided in Ford the secret crush you harbored on his brother. You trusted him not to tell but to hear it now, spelled out in the air, made you stiffen.

“She knows all my disgusting habits,” Stan finally said to break the silence, “I couldn’t trick her into it.”

He grinned at you in your peripheral, a certain softness in the corners of his mouth that weren’t usually there. You rallied your best grin back,

“Yeah, it would be weird. Right?” You chuckled nervously.

Stan, with unprecedented exuberance, nodded in agreement. “S’weird. I’ve seen you in your retainer. Could never fool around with you after that.”

Ouch. You pretended it didn’t feel like a blow to the stomach. “And you smoke too much. It would be like kissing an exhaust pipe.”

“See? It could never work.” Stan tore another beer off the plastic rings, drained it, then announced he was going on a walk. You watched his retreating form until you were sure that he could no longer hear you.

You whipped around. “Ford! What was that?”

“I’m sick of you two dancing around the subject. If you just dated I wouldn’t have to sit out here every few months when you inevitably get dumped because you’re with the wrong person.”

You groaned and slid down in the lawn chair, covering your face with your hands. You actually liked the smoke that clung to Stan’s clothes, the deft flick of his thumb striking up the lighter. Why did you tell him you didn’t?

You’re a coward, your inner voice accused. You panicked. It wasn’t like you could exactly agree with Ford, especially not after what Stan said about your retainer. Did he mean that?

If he did, that was worse than anything else. Not only did he not harbor a secret attraction, but he was repulsed at the idea of you together.

Stan stumbled back down the beach a few minutes later, to your chagrin. It was much easier not to think of him when he wasn’t in front of you; even like this, swaying on his feet and looking slightly green.

“Stan, are you —?”

He lurched and fell face forward into the sand.

Ford glared at you like it was your fault. “This is the last time.”

“Sure. Just get his other side.”

“Thank you again, hun.” Caryn Pines smiled sweetly at you. The small kitchen smelled profusely of her perfume and cigarette smoke, wrapping around you like an embrace.

“Yeah, of course. No big deal.”

Caryn looked at you strangely, in that way that adults did sometimes. “You’re always takin’ care of my Stanley. I know he ‘ppreciates it, even if he doesn’t say it.”

“I couldn’t leave him on the beach.” You took a bite of the babka that Stan’s Ma put out, chewing thoughtfully. “Again.”

Caryn always tried to feed you when you came over, no matter how fleeting of a visit. You had seen her sneak the food out of packages and container and pass it off as her own, but you didn’t care. It encompassed her parenting abilities — well-meaning but slightly manufactured, a desire to be the mother that she wanted to be but not exactly the drive to put in the work.

Either way, you knew she loved you like her own.

“Ya know, I see the way he looks at you. And you look at him. It doesn’t take a psychic to figure it out,” Caryn said.

Your face warmed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“He’s crazy ‘bout you. I know my Stanley.”

“But what if…what if we broke-up ? I can’t lose him in my life.” Tears strained your voice. Here you were, admitting your feelings to another Pines family member except for the one who actually needed to hear it.

Caryn clicked her tongue and edged around the island, pulling you into a hug. “But what if it’s great? What if it’s everything you imagined?”

“Maybe,” you said, muffled in her side.

Caryn gave you a final squeeze. “I could only pray for someone like you for my son. Say, you don’t happen to have a sibling for Ford, do ya?”

You shook your head. Caryn made a gesture like too bad then fiddled with the coffee machine.

“Here.” Caryn shoved a steaming mug in your direction, then wiped her hands on her dress. “Take this upstairs for me, will ya? I’ve gotta check on Shermie.”

You stood rooted in place for an embarrassing amount of time, mulling over what she had said. What if it was great? Your heart jumped. Maybe she was right. You would tell Stan.

Emboldened, you crept down the hall and past the living room. The TV flickered ghostly blue lights over the couch where Filbrick snored, and you were careful to avoid the creaky stairs. It wasn’t ever said aloud but everyone knew in the house not to disturb Pa after work. He wasn’t abusive, that you could tell, but somewhere on the verge of it.

Stan and Ford’s voice drifted from their shared bedroom — Stan’s gruff, drunken mumbles and Ford’s clever quips lined with affection.

You were going to tell him. You loved him.

A hitch of agitation in Stan’s voice made you pause at the first step, just out of earshot, a silver of light falling across you from the cracked door.

The delirious, bubbly feeling of excitement in your chest fluttered uncertainly.

“Oh, would give it a rest, Sixer?”

“Stan, I just think —”

“You know how I feel about her,” Stan interrupted. From your vantage point you could see him sprawled out on his bed, one hand over his face.

Her? Meaning you?

Your grip tightened on the mug. Here it was, the universe delivering you a sign that Caryn was right. That you were right.

The view didn’t offer any insight on Ford but you could hear his desk chair squeaking as he leaned backwards, contemplative. “And how do you feel about her?”

A beat of silence, the covers rustling as Stan lifted himself onto his elbows. “She’s my best friend.”

“Uh huh.”

“And-And of course I love her.”

“Uh huh.”

“But I could never date her.”

Your blood turned cold. What? Didn’t he just say that he loved you? Whatever brief, sweet bliss you had went plummeting into the ground. You turned away, coffee in hand, unable to listen to more.

Stan stared up at the ceiling, at the water stain that looked like an elephant. Sometimes when he tried to get his feelings out, the words would run circles around and around in his head until he chased them down. It didn’t help that he had drank so much.

Towards the end it wasn’t even really about Carla anymore, but you. You, with your dumb perfect face and laugh. The way that you stuck around despite knowing everything about him, about his family, leaving him feeling raw and infested like an overturned rock.

His stomach churned. Stan waited for the nausea to pass, pinning down his words before eking out, “I would fuck things up with her. It ain’t worth it. Losin’ her. Ya know?”

God he hoped he was making sense. The room was spinning and the elephant was now doing summersaults.

“I wouldn’t let you,” Ford quietly replied. “I know you love her. I’d stop you from fucking up.”

Stan laughed, dry and brittle. “No one can stop me. I’m a one man fuck-up.”

“You’ve never been one man.”

Stan curbed his nausea enough to look at his brother. Really look at him. Any other given day and he might’ve kicked him for saying something like that. His throat bobbed. “Yeah. Yer right.”

A moment passed between them, one of those brotherly, twin moments that he hadn’t felt since they were kids. Ford clapped his hands together.

“My first declaration of not letting you fuck up is to tell her tomorrow how you feel.”

“What? Tomorrow! No way.”

Ford narrowed his eyes. Stan waved a hand and flopped back down onto the bed, resigned. “Fine, fine. Hey, can you tell that elephant to stop moving? He’s bein’ a real dick.”

After that night, you avoided the Pines family like the plague, dodging after-class visits and letting calls go to the answering machine. Your parents asked where your “boyfriend” was, as they lovingly referred to him, but it only felt like salt in the wound. Stan would never be your boyfriend. He said it himself — he could never date you.

You hated the heavy grayness that clung to you, and most importantly, you hated that the one person you wanted to talk to about Stan was…Stan. And you couldn’t. How mortifying it would be to confess something so life altering for him to say that he only saw you as a friend.

Stan left message after message, wondering what he had done and if you could. But you couldn’t bear to see him. You ate lunch in the girl’s bathroom and nearly sprinted to your car after school, peeling out of the lot as soon as the final bell rang. He tried to come by your house, too. Your parents, loyal to you no matter how much they loved Stan, told him you weren’t there.

It was safe to say that, after a month of this, they were relieved when you stepped out of your room in actual clothes. Your mother actually clutched her pearls. “You look amazing. Where are you going? Did you make up with Stanley?”

You ignored that line of inquiry. “I have a date. Not with Stan,” you added, well aware that was the follow up question.

“Oh.” Your mother’s happiness faltered slightly. “Who with?”

“Just someone from school. I’ll make sure they drop me off before curfew.” You pretended to be oblivious to their probing stares, kissing them each on the cheek before striding out the front door to the idled car in the drive.

A dark shape shot out of the driver’s seat and scrambled to open up your door. Eugene glanced nervously at your house as you climbed in. “Are you sure you don’t want me to meet your folks?”

“I’m sure,” you said, monotone.

Eugene had been interested in you for a while now, but you always hedged your answers, not wanting to commit. Last week you finally said yes. You needed to get over Stan — even though the first thing you thought of was how he would laugh at Eugene for opening your door. You could just hear his rasping, seething laugh. Pussy, he would call Eugene, and you would punch him.

Throat thickening with tears, you forced yourself to admire Eugene in the glow of the streetlights that passed by. He was classically handsome. Smart, kind. A musician. Everything that, on paper, would make the perfect boyfriend. It was incredibly sweet that he wanted to meet your parents and open your car door.

Yet all you could think about was Stan: his untamed mullet and cauliflower ears from boxing, the nose slightly too large for his face that was crooked from all the fights he instigated. The braying sound of his laugh and how he thought it was funny to snap your bra strap. The fact that, beneath the jokes and the crude humor, he was soft and compassionate and an excellent artist. He always made you laugh. He was a million things that Eugene would never be.

But Eugene was one thing Stan wasn’t.

Interested in you.

You shoved all of that down by the time Eugene pulled up to your date, flashing him your most winning smile. A drive-in movie seemed innocent enough. You were confident that Eugene wouldn’t try to make any moves, but you still directed him to park near a minivan of children.

“Want to steal some candy from them?” You asked.

Eugene’s expression shifted as if you’d suggested something morally offensive. “What? From the kids?”

“I was just teasing,” you said. You hadn’t been.

Stan would’ve happily jumped at the offer, distracting the family with one of his wild stories while you snuck a pack of candy. The two of you would then share whatever snack and giggle the rest of the movie over your cleverness.

You felt like throwing up. Why couldn’t you stop thinking about Stan?

Abruptly you shoved open the door. “I’ll just go get snacks then.”

“Wait!” Eugene’s voice was muffled, you had already shot out of the car and nearly closed the door. “Do you want me to go with you?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“I’ll pay,” Eugene said.

“It’s fine.”

You needed to get out. Needed to get away. Without waiting for any further questions, you slammed the door shut and stalked off towards the concessions. The night air was uncharacteristically cool, brushing over your flushed skin.

“Okay, calm down, you’re okay. You’re on a date with a nice guy,” you coached yourself.

“You’re on a date?”

You wheeled on your heel. Stan stood a few feet away, brow furrowed. His fur-lined jacket bulged with hidden contraband. “Stan?”

“You’re on a date?” He repeated, the timbre of his voice sinking dangerously low.

“Yes.” You raised your chin.

His jaw feathered. “I haven’t spoken to you in, like, a month. You’ve been dodgin’ my calls and avoidin’ me. What’s goin’ on? Now you’re on a date?”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” you bit back.

“You don’t?” Stan barked out a scathing laugh. “You just stopped talkin’ to me without any s’planation. What am I supposed to think?”

You stepped into line at concessions. “I don’t know, Stan.”

“Talk to me.” Your name on his tongue was a prayer. “Please. I can’t take this.”

A knot formed in your stomach. You ordered for you and Eugene then brushed past Stan, ignoring his protests. He followed you to Eugene’s car. You wretched open the door, intending to fling yourself inside, but Stan stopped it. He leaned down to peer at your date.

“Eugene? Really? This guy?”

Eugene sputtered. You gritted out, “Stan. Go. Away.”

Stan’s dark gaze bounced from you to Eugene, then back to you. The look on his face was unreadable. “Fine.”

The door shut with a resounding thud. It took all of your strength not to watch him walk away. You tore off the top of a box of M&M’s and shoveled the candies into your mouth.

“Was that Stan Pines? I thought you guys were, like, friends,” Eugene finally said.

“Not anymore.” The candies slid down your throat, suddenly dry and pasty.

“Oh.” Eugene pretended to fiddle with the radio, switching through stations. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Mercifully, the movie screen flickered to life and saved you from more awkward conversation. You kept putting handfuls of candy in your mouth to keep from talking or interacting with Eugene at all. Frankly, you just wanted this date to end.

Eugene respected your space, too, which only worsened your conflicting emotions of shame and regret. You wished you could apologize to him but you couldn’t form the words.

You were jerked from your self-loathing when a huge shadow played across the screen, disrupting the movie. Yells of outrage sounded from across the grassy knoll, until the dark shape on the screen split apart. The candy in your stomach threatened to come up. The profile was unmistakably Stan’s, confirming your theory when you twisted around to spot him in front of the projector, entangled with Carla McCorkle.

He grabbed her hand, smirking at the enraged onlookers, and ran off.

Carla? Again?

Eugene examined you. “Do you…want to go somewhere else?”

“Yes. Please.”

He took you to get Dairy Queen, then dropped you back off at home. The passing shadows in the window told you that your parents had anxiously been awaiting your arrival. Eugene moved to get out, to open your door again, but you laid a hand on his arm.

“I’m really sorry. About tonight,” you choked out.

Eugene smiled sadly. “It’s okay.”

You kissed his cheek and climbed out of the car, up the stairs to your house. Eugene waited until you were safely inside before pulling away.

School sucked. You were forced to see Stan with any number of girls. In fact, it seemed as if he was going out of his way to flaunt them, the lingering touches and kisses. It burned you inside.

He preferred anyone but you.

Another month passed, each day growing more and more unbearable without your best friend, without Ford, the reliable foundation of your friendship. With the end of school approaching, so was college, the awaiting jaws of a monster threatening to swallow you whole. You couldn’t even tell them that you got accepted into your dream school.

When a hand grabbed your arm, the familiar face following, you were struck with a swell of emotions. But it wasn’t Stan. The body was all wrong, the measured expression never once belonging to him but his brother. Ford’s eyes were pleading. “We need to talk.”

“Stan can’t know about this,” you said after consideration. Ford nodded.

He brought you into a deserted classroom. You lingered near the door, not sure what to say after all of this time.

“Stan is falling apart,” Ford said without preamble. “I don’t know what happened, but neither of you can continue like this.” A flicker of vulnerability crossed his features. “I can’t.”

You inhaled. It wasn’t fair to drag Ford into this, but it was hard not to. You could never make him side against Stan. “I just…I can’t do it.”

“Do what?”

You turned your face from him, ashamed. “I heard him. That night after we brought Stan home from the beach. He said…he said he could never date me.”

Ford’s face shutters closed. “Is that all you heard?”

“I didn’t need to stick around to hear about how abhorrent the thought of dating me is,” you replied, tone bitter.

Ford flipped open his messenger bag and rifled through it, muttering something that sounded a lot like “two idiots” before finding what he needed. He handed you a folded flyer. “Stan is throwing a party here this weekend.”

“And you’re telling me this because…?”

“You should go.”

You glanced at the paper. The address stated a beach not far from your usual haunt, promising alcohol and a good time. Leave it to Stan to make invitations to a party like this, complete with crude renditions of women in bikinis. You clutched the paper. “I’ll think about it.”

Ford was halfway out the door when he stopped. “He really misses you.”

The words resonated with you the rest of the day. Sometime between meeting with Ford and that weekend, you decided you would go. Eugene told you he couldn’t go, he had to study, so you informed your parents you were going out and that was that. They let you without complaint, probably because you had been moping around the house the last two months.

Tonight you donned your best dress, black and sparkling and totally inappropriate for a beach party but when you bought it, at the mall with the twins, Stan hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off you. There had been no reason to wear it until now and you secretly hoped he had forgotten about it so you could shock him all over again.

By the time you arrived, sweat had gathered at the base of your neck and dampened your hair. You regretted wearing the dress upon seeing the other girls in their bikinis and hotpants, and made a beeline for the keg to soothe your nerves.

The beer was sticky and warm. You sipped it, wishing that instead of being here with people you didn’t know (or care about) you were with Stan and Ford on lawn chairs. The usual. Instead you gazed out upon the rest of the party and found Ford, trapping someone into listening to his theories most likely, and Stan presiding over a beer pong games.

Almost as if your gaze was a beacon, Stan looked up immediately as you spotted him. A cord of familiarity, of affection, tied you together and you could feel its tug behind your navel.

Stan stormed over to you, kicking up sand in his wake. “What are you doing here?”

“Ford invited me.”

“He did?” Stan searched for his brother, who had conveniently found somewhere else to be. “Why are you here?”

“I got invited, remember?”

“Where’s Eugene? Is he here, too?”

“No.” You didn’t feel like giving him an explanation, didn’t need to. You especially didn’t want to tell Stan that it was because you were still in love with him.

His dark eyes hardened. “Where is he?”

“What does it matter to you?”

Stan’s mouth moved as if he was biting back a retort, debating whether to say it. He raked a hand through his hair. He spit. “It doesn’t.”

You spent the rest of the party drifting from place to place, never lingering long. The bonfire funneled smoke into the air, as inconsistent and tangible as you, a ghost on the outskirts. You’re not sure why you came, why Ford invited, why you were still here. The beer had given you a nice buzz, a certain looseness in your limbs, and you decided that was enough. You started up the sandy dunes, shoes in hand, when you heard the sand behind you being displaced by footsteps.

Stan followed you, silhouetted by the fire in an orange haze. “What do you want?”

“I’m walking you home.”

“No. You’re not.” You marched off.

He trailed behind. You thought that he might get bored or fed up and leave you alone but he persisted. Only once you hit the sidewalk did you furiously spin around. “What do you want?”

“I ain’t lettin’ you walk home by yourself,” he replied.

“I walked here by myself. I’m fine.”

Stan took a few steps toward you. “Just let me do this, okay?”

“It’s your party, you shouldn’t leave,” you replied.

“Exactly. My party. I can do what I want.” Stan drew to his full height, shoulders back, reminding you that without his rounded posture he cut an intimidating figure. But it wasn’t intimidation he sought, but protection — protection of you.

Your back molars gritted together. “Fine.”

It actually felt nice, relieving, actually, to walk side by side with him. He maintained a step or two behind you, undoubtedly sensing your anger, but you didn’t correct him. You stayed like that, your strange, wordless dance all the way to your house. When Stan moved as if to follow you inside, what he would’ve done before, you barred him from the door.

“You shouldn’t,” you told him softly.

His brow furrowed and Stan shoved his hands in the pocket of his jacket. The porch awning cast him half in shadows. “What did I do? I know you’re punishin’ me but what I can’t figure out is why.”

“I’m not…I’m not punishing you.” You wrapped your arms around yourself.

“Then what? Is it your new boyfriend?”

“Who, Eugene?” You shook your head. “No, this isn’t because of him. And he’s not my boyfriend.”

“He’s not?”

“No.”

“What ‘bout yer date?”

“It was just one time. And it was a mistake,” you admitted.

“Tell me what’s goin’ on.”

Stan’s infuriatingly handsome features were set in determination. You wanted to go to him, bury yourself in his chest and let him envelope you. But that same feeling twisted, grew sharp teeth that latched on and refused to let go.

“Why? What do you care?” You fired back. “You’ve been so busy with your tongue down every girl’s throat that I’m surprised you even noticed I wasn’t around.”

Something shifted in Stan, a spark igniting into an inferno. “You’ve been avoidin’ me and ignorin’ my calls, refusin’ to speak to me without telling me why. I don’t get it. If you’re so against me, then why do you care what I do?”

You hissed back, “I don’t. But it’s hard to miss when you’re dry humping your flavor of the week in front of the whole school.”

“How do you think I felt when I saw you with Eugene?”

You paused, his words soaking into your skin. The fist of anger in your stomach loosened at the pain in those words, if only slightly. “I didn’t know you were going to be there, Stan. And I didn’t think it would matter even if you were. You could never date me.”

“What?” Stan’s entire body stiffened.

“You said it yourself,” you said. You were loathed to say the words aloud, which made you cry, which only made you angry to be crying. “You could never date me.”

“When did I ever say that?”

“I heard you,” you said. You explained to him how you had overheard the conversation between him and Ford that night. He listened the entire time, quiet and unmoving.

Stan rubbed a hand over his face. “You didn’t stick around to find out why?”

“Sorry if I didn’t want to hear how repulsive and horrible I was,” you snapped.

“I told Ford that I couldn’t date you because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. The last few months have been hell, doll. Going without you every day has been…unbearable.” Stan brushed his knuckles over your cheek, tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “Please don’t make me go through that again.”

You leaned into his touch, eyes swimming with tears. “I’m sorry, Stan. I only did it because I couldn’t stand to be around you if you didn’t feel the same way.”

“Same way?” Stan’s mouth morphed into a tired, wistful smile. “I’ve loved you since that first day in class. Since you saw them passin’ that note and instead of bein’ upset you raised your chin.”

You faltered. “You love me?”

“Of course I love you.” Such a simple, genuine statement.

“Stan, I love you too. I’m so sorry —”

“No, I’m sorry. I should’ve just told you how I feel. I’m an idiot.”

You touched his arm. “No, you’re not. Well, you are, but not because of that. I was scared too. And I hurt you.”

“I’m tough.” Stan lifted your chin up, forcing you to look at him. In his face you saw a whole lifetime of memories, of laughter. “But you gotta promise me not to ignore me again. Messed me up so bad that Ford said he saw me stare at a wall for two days straight without sayin’ a word.”

“You? Not talking?”

“I know.” Stan shuddered. His composure softened a bit, examining you as if seeing you for the first time. “When I told you that you were my girl, I meant it. You’re the only girl for me.”

In way of reply, you grabbed the front of his jacket and pressed your lips to his.

You had kissed before, in middle school, just to get the first one over with. It had been brief and awkward, his front tooth clashing off yours. This kiss maintained the same level of comfort, of familiarity and safety, but charged with a current of passion. He kissed you like he had been waiting his whole life to do it again, pulling you into him in a frenzied manner.

Stan’s tongue ran over the seam of your lips, parting them so that he could slip inside, invited by your breath of surprise. You melted into him. Everything about him, this moment, felt right. Perfect. His hands in your hair and roving over the form-fitting dress you had worn for him, sighing and muttering praises on your flushed skin.

You didn’t stop until the porchlight flickered on and the front door ensnared you in its beam. Stan still held you to him, lips bruised, frozen. Your mother took one look at you entangled together on the porch and then sighed in relief.

“Well, finally.”

#gravity falls #stanley pines #fanfic #writers on tumblr #writing #stanley pines x reader #stanley pines x you #stan pines x you #request #reqs open

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jgracie · 5 months

Text

LOVE GROWS (WHERE MY ROSEMARY GOES) — PERCY + CHILD OF DEMETER

masterlist | rules

❝ Hiya,can i request if you have time,Percy dating a Demeter kid?Thank you💕 ❞ — anon

in which percy dates a child of demeter

pairing percy jackson x demeter!reader

warnings me projecting as a child of demeter LOL, one swear word

on the radio . . . love grows (where my rosemary goes) (edison lighthouse)

an never stop requesting demeter!reader guys (i live vicariously through her) also this features another travis cameo LOL him and percy are bffs in my head ALSO the watering can thing is inspired by stardew valley i cannot wait for the day i get to upgrade to sprinklers

Percy’s never been a morning person. However, he has been forced awake at ungodly times due to nightmares

This was one of those times. He could barely remember what the dream was about, all he knew was that it was bad enough for him to wake with a start, his body drenched in sweat as he tried to recollect himself

Looking over at the clock on his bedside table, Percy could barely make out the time: 5:35AM. Well, there was no point going back to sleep now. Even if he did, he’d probably just be visited by nightmares again

So, Percy slipped the nearest t-shirt on and left his cabin, unsure of where he was heading - maybe the beach to cool off? Who knows, he was in disarray. The worst dreams were always the ones you couldn’t remember, the fear of them possibly being important haunting your day

Suddenly, Percy smelt a comforting scent waft through the air. He’d never smelt anything like that before. It couldn’t be ambrosia or nectar - while they both had good scents, they weren’t half as strong as this one. What could it be?

He decided to follow his instinct and find where the smell was coming from. Which led him to cabin 4

Despite it being right across from his own, Percy never paid cabin 4 much attention. Not until now

He continued following the scent and ended up at the back of the cabin, where there was a huge garden filled with what Percy believed to be the most appetising fruits and vegetables he’s ever seen. To the side, there was a greenhouse, where he could see the silhouette of a person

Curious, Percy made his way over to the greenhouse. He’d never spoken to a Demeter kid before, but he’d heard of your nurturing nature and kind hearts in passing

“It’s okay, Cassie, you can go back to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up, I promise,” Percy heard a voice say, stopping in his tracks. Deciding to take a peek, he found himself facing an angel

You were rocking a young girl who seemed to be six years old at most back to sleep in your arms. Wherever you went, the flowers in the greenhouse bloomed brighter, gravitating towards you and wrapping their stems around your arms, almost as if they were vying for your attention

The girl’s face was tear-streaked, but she nodded, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You smiled and ran your fingers through her hair, praying to your mother that she wouldn’t have another nightmare

You hated when the younger kids got nightmares - they could barely understand the fact that one of their parents is a God, let alone comprehend the strange demigod nightmares

Then, you noticed him. When you locked eyes, Percy felt as if the last puzzle piece of his life was finally put in place. Was it too early to say you were made for him?

“Hello! Welcome to Flowers and Vines (shoutout to Stella for naming it!), how may I help you today?” You said, your cheery tone snapping Percy out of the trance you put him in. Walking inside (he’d been simply listening next to the door), Percy sheepishly rubbed his neck, hoping you didn’t think he was some weird stalker

Percy looked around, now fully being able to see everything your greenhouse had to offer. His mom would love this place

“Oh, I’m good, thanks… I didn’t know you guys had a flower shop here! That’s really cool…” Percy said, trailing off at the end once he realised he didn’t know your name. He was a little embarrassed, but luckily, you didn’t seem to mind

Giggling, you continued for him, “Y/N, my name’s Y/N. And Flowers and Vines is more than just a flower shop, we sell produce too! Mr D’s kids help us with the grapes.” As you told him all of this, you were going around with a pretty pink watering can and watering every single plant in the whole greenhouse. Surely, there must be a more efficient way to water them all?

That morning, Percy decided he would buy a flower from you. When you’d asked which one he wanted, he simply told you to surprise him

“These are some of my favourites,” you said while wrapping your flowers of choice - to Percy, they looked like every other pink, round flower out there, but he’d learn the difference for you. These were now special

Handing him the little bouquet, you continued, “Rhododendron - ‘I shall never look upon your like again’, that’s what they mean. I don’t see them around much anymore, which is why I planted them here!”

It was almost like you knew Percy would never look upon your like again. When he’d asked you how much they were for, you insisted on giving them to him on the house. After much arguing, Percy accepted, keeping them right next to his bed. Something about them made the nightmares a little better

After that day, Percy couldn’t stop thinking about you. Everything he saw around him reminded him of you - from the flowers in the forest to the smell of mangoes in the air as their season arrived

He’d see you occasionally, too, and would shyly wave whilst hoping you didn’t notice the way his face turned a bright red when you waved back

You thought Percy was really cute, too, and were a little disappointed when he didn’t show up a second time after your original rendezvous. You began taking on so many shifts you might as well have been working at Flowers and Vines full time. Your siblings (as well as Dionysus’ kids) teased you relentlessly for this, but you didn’t care. You just wanted to see him again

And then you did

Percy’s idea was one that was suggested by none other than Travis Stoll. He was simply catching up with the son of Hermes when he’d brought up the fact that everyone working at Flowers and Vines watered the plants using watering cans (something which had been really bothering Katie)

When Percy had asked why they did that, Travis explained that they used to have sprinklers but after the Ares cabin tinkered with them once (they were bitter over a game of Capture the Flag), causing the water to go all over the place and killing a lot of the flowers, the sprinklers were unusable and currently being fixed by the Hephaestus cabin

That’s when Percy came up with it. Since he was a son of Poseidon, he could spread water from a source as far as he wanted to. Therefore, he could help with your issue and have an excuse to talk to you

Immediately, Percy ran to the flower shop/fruit market he’d grown to love so dearly

“Hi! Is Y/N here?” He asked one of your siblings, breathless. They nodded and pointed behind them, smirking as they snuck knowing glances to your other siblings

There you were, in all your glory. You seemed to sparkle under the Sun, watering the flowers with your little pink pot. When the water ran out, you sighed. You really needed to invest in a bigger one

Just as you were about to go fill it, Percy proudly announced, “you won’t have to do that anymore!”

You couldn’t believe your ears. As you turned around, you fought the urge to hug the boy. Despite only speaking with him once, you really did miss Percy

Intrigued, you followed Percy to the fountain in the middle of the greenhouse. Before, it used to just be for decoration (since you had sprinklers), but now it came very handy for refilling your watering cans

Extending his arm towards the fountain, Percy willed droplets of water to hover in the air, then, with one motion, threw them all over the greenhouse, watering your plants perfectly

“Oh my Gods, Percy, this is amazing! Thank you so much!” You exclaimed, running over to him and giving him a peck on the cheek. It was a spontaneous decision mainly done because you were getting quite tired of manually watering all your plants

After that, Percy began working at Flowers and Vines as your temporary plant-waterer. You, your siblings and Dionysus’ kids would all cheer when he’d appear, and he’d play into it, making a big show out of getting the water out of the fountain and sprinkling it over the plants, winking at you as he did so

The plants seemed to flourish even more than usual, too. You told yourself it was probably because water from a son of Poseidon was more powerful than normal water (or something along those lines), but you knew the truth

As a child of Demeter, much like your mother, your emotions influenced nature around you. When you were sad, plants would wilt and wither, mimicking the winter Demeter creates whenever Persephone is in the Underworld

The opposite was true. Whenever you were happy, plants would blossom and bloom all around - and you were really happy when Percy was around. Which is why you needed to tell him before the Hephaestus cabin fixed your sprinklers

However, fear got the best of you every time you tried to get the words out of your mouth. Despite practising several times with your siblings (and even once with the Aphrodite cabin), whenever you tried telling Percy, you’d get shy and vines would grow out of your head, tangling with your hair and acting as a shield

Unfortunately for you, Percy couldn’t tell from that that you liked him, so you simply had to get over your fears and say it

Your confession happened on Percy’s last day as your plant waterer. That morning, Katie had pulled you to the side, telling you to hurry up your confession to Percy as she and Travis couldn’t delay the Hephaestus cabin any more (they were getting quite annoyed, having worked on the sprinklers for so long. What did those Ares kids do to them?)

So, you spent the whole day bracing yourself for Percy’s arrival. All you had to do was say it, get his response and move on with your life. It wasn’t that big of a deal!

After Percy watered the plants, everyone watched in silence, waiting for you to say something

“Hey… Percy, can we talk?” You asked, ignoring the hushed cheers of your siblings as you approached the boy. He nodded, smiling at you and letting you lead him to the back, where you kept all the extra supplies

Sitting on a stool, Percy looked up at you, just noticing your nervousness, “is everything okay?” He asked, concern laced in his voice

You nodded, taking a deep breath. You practically had this memorised. You just had to get the words out. You couldn’t get the words out

The vines grew from your head again and you wanted nothing more than to cocoon yourself in them. You’d faced terrifying monsters with a calm smile and eliminated them like you were pulling weeds out of your gardens, but you couldn’t tell a boy you liked him?

At this point, the vines were wrapping around the stool Percy was sat on, and he stood up, confused

Slowly, he made his way over to you and brushed the vines away from your face. As he looked into your wide eyes, he finally understood. Cupping your face with his hands, Percy placed a tender kiss on your lips

“I like you too, Y/N. Like, a lot”

Ok dating hcs 🥳

First of all I just wanna say PICNIC DATES!!! Sometimes you have them on the beach and it’s like you combined both your worlds <3

As a child of Demeter I can confidently say we know how to cook. Percy’s so in love with your cooking. He never thought any cooking could rival his mother’s until you came along

Somehow, you knew how to make meals that make him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. If you asked him to taste ambrosia and one of your meals blindfolded and then choose one, he’d choose yours in a heartbeat

He’s also so obsessed with the fresh produce you bring from Flowers and Vines. I said this in my Percy x Persephone!Reader headcanons but I don’t think Percy’s much of a fruits/vegetables guy so the fact that you have him hooked on them says a lot

Swears he’s addicted. You think he’s just saying that to flatter you but he means it. If someone asked him if he had an addiction he’d look them dead in the eye and go, “yes, my partner’s bell peppers.”

He’s actually right though! Demeter + Dionysus kid powers make the produce taste a little fresher and last for way longer

Percy also decides to learn the language of flowers. He borrows a book about it from the Athena cabin and makes little notes and everything

Once, you came to his cabin and found the book full of scrawled annotations and sticky notes in it and you had to fight the urge to bawl your eyes out because he’s just so adorable

Will literally buy you flowers from your own flower shop though LMAO he doesn’t even try to do the transaction with anyone else. He’ll buy them and you’ll give them to him and he’ll be like “oh thanks I’m gonna go give this to the light of my life now” and he just hands them back to you

Percy’s also def the type of guy to keep one with him so he can get you new ones as soon as they start to wilt. Except his timing is always off because flowers tend to last a little longer when they’re around you

Lowkey still works at Flowers and Vines except he just follows you around and has no salary (he says his salary are kisses from you but knows he’d get them regardless LOL)

Brings Sally and Paul to Flowers and Vines and they’re immediately hooked because flowers in the mortal world aren’t half as beautiful as these hello??

Also, as a child of Demeter, you are naturally very motherly and caring. He loves seeing you interact with Estelle so much!!!

His half-sister warmed up to you extremely quickly and now refuses to be babysat by anyone who isn’t you. Like it can’t even be Percy alone you have to be there!!

Percy ALSO loves it when you dote on him. This leads to him being a little dramatic at times

Looking up, you saw a pouty Percy make his way over to you, his brows furrowed as he looked down at his finger

“Y/N! You won’t believe what happened!” He said. The first couple times he pulled this stunt, he’d scared you shitless, but you now knew all about your boyfriend’s antics and simply gave him a knowing smile

Feigning worry, you asked, “oh no, what is it?” Percy revealed his finger to you, which had a barely noticeable cut at the tip of it

“I was talking to Clarisse when all of a sudden she swung at me!” He told you, looking over to the side. In reality, he’d asked Clarisse to cut him, knowing only a child of Ares could have such precision with a weapon

Sporting a pout of your own, you took Percy’s finger and peppered it with kisses, “I’ll speak to Clarisse, don’t worry.” You said

“Uhh.. Y/N.. she also punched me in the lips… My lips really hurt.”

Let’s just say you didn’t get much work done that day (SAFE FOR WORK!)

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson #percy jackson x gn reader #pjo #pjo x reader #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson headcanons #percy jackson x demeter reader #percy jackson x child of demeter #demeter pjo #children of demeter #cynwrites

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beenbaanbuun · 23 days

Note

Hai there! :3

Hope youre having a lovely day/night! I wanted to say I love your works!

I’ve been following your opposites attract universe and I have to say I love it so so sooooo much!! Its just so sweet and beautifully written! Addams! matz is now my roman empire.

I have a question though after reading the fight and the apology parts of the story, since hongjoong basically NEVER yells but did in fact yell at darling, do you think darling for a good period of time would be a bit distant from joong? Like she’s knows she’s forgiven but would she be too scared to make a similar mistake? Cause if it were me where I was able to make someone who never gets mad, mad. I would know I FUCKED up big time and I’d be so nervous to be around them 😭

If Darling does somewhat become a bit distant how would Hongjoong react to that too? Like would guilt practically eat him alive? 😭

Thats all! Thank you again for your works I love reading them!! 💕

i was going to reply to this like it was just a simple question but i must write………..

not proofread yet

as you stand outside hongjoong’s office, you can’t help but feel your heart beating a mile a minute. it’s silly, you know that, and yet you can’t help but hesitate. he’s on the other side of that door, after all, and try as you might, you simply cannot let things go back to normal. it’s only been a few days, yet you haven’t crossed the threshold into that room even once. you’ve barely even spoken to hongjoong, in fact. apart from mealtimes and night when he cannot go without you in his arms, you opt to stay far out of his way. it’s not that you want to, but instead you feel like you have to.

it’s for your own peace of mind.

except this time you can’t. this time, you’re under strict instructions from seonghwa to fetch hongjoong for dinner. he knows what he’s doing, the corners of his mouth tilting up in an annoying smile after you tried to come up with some excuse as to why you had to avoid hongjoong. clearly none of them worked since here you are.

you knock, three light taps against his door so as not to irritate him too much. he’s working, after all, and you know better than to get in his way while he’s working. “come in, dove,” he calls, surprising you as he refers to you by name; how could he tell from a knock alone?

the brass doorknob is cold as you push the door open tentatively, your feet remaining firmly at the threshold. it’s a surprise to see him turned away from the desk, eyes already upon you before you even fully reveal yourself. there’s a smile on his face, soft and delicate as though he’s gazing upon something beautiful. he’s gazing upon you, but standing before him with your bottom lip tucked neatly between your lips and your thumbs picking at one another, it’s hard to feel like you’re anything but worrisome.

a hand rests upon his lap, fingers drumming lightly upon the thick black fabric of his slacks. the seat he flaunts looks oh-so-tempting, but you refrain from taking it. from closing the gap and shoving your face in his neck like you’ve been craving to these past few days. he always smells so nice; warm spices and home.

“how could you tell it was me?” you ask as you shuffle from foot to foot in his doorway. his smile grows wide as he studies you.

“seonghwa enters immediately after knocking, yeosang wouldn’t be visiting me, and you,” he pats his lap twice, your favourite seat becoming just that more tempting. still, you somehow manage to hold yourself back, “well, you never knock but since you’ve been avoiding me—”

“i have not!” you squark, eyes going wide and feet finally carrying you forward into the lions den. your hand slips from the door it had been holding open, and the slam of it shutting lets you know that you are in fact trapped. there’s no escape from hongjoong now without it being plainly obvious that you are in fact avoiding him, although that seems to be a fact he’s already grown wise to.

hongjoong seems to be aware of that fact too, as the moment the door encloses the both of you in the confines of his office, he taps his lap yet again. this time, you almost break.

“you see, if you weren’t avoiding me, you’d already be in my lap,” he tuts at you, relaxing himself in his chair and letting his legs spread. as sweet as the spot on his lap looks, you must admit that the one between his thighs is equally as enticing. you could sit there for hours just staring up at him in wonder.

you take yet another step into the room, more than happy to deny yourself the pleasure of his lap, less happy to remain so far away from him. you might be avoiding him, but you can’t deny yourself the simple pleasure of seeing his pretty face up close. the sly smile he wears when he teases you is admittedly beautiful, even if it does annoy you to no end.

“maybe i just don’t want to sit in your lap right now,” you argue, to which he responds with a scoff. rightfully so; if you’re going to lie you should at least try and make it believable. “or maybe i just don’t want to get in trouble with seonghwa by making us late for dinner.”

another chuckle, although you suppose this one is even more deserved than the first. you’ve never had a problem flaunting seonghwa’s orders and rules before, so why start now? defeated, you give him a deep sigh.

“come here, dove,” he says through his amusement, adoration laced through every word he speaks. you take another few steps closer, although not as close as it seems he desires you to be.

hands wrap themselves around your hips, tugging lightly at your body until your stumbling forwards into hongjoong’s grasp. they move around your body quicker than you can squirm free of them, pulling and pushing at your limbs until you’re arranged exactly how he wants you, straddling his lap with your hands resting tentatively upon his shoulders. it takes just a few seconds for his arms to snake themselves around your waist, locking you in place.

his head is tilted in such a way that he can appreciate the sheepish look you wear. the way your eyes look anywhere but his own, and the way your jaw ticks in something akin to agitation, although hongjoong knows you far too well to assume that that really is the case. if you were agitated, your pretty lips wouldn’t be pressed into a pout, they’d be forming cute little insults that hongjoong would have to try his hardest not to find sweet. if you really were agitated, hongjoong would know better than to tighten his grip until you have no choice but to lay with your torso flat against his.

you don’t even resist when he traces a finger up your spine to the nape of your neck. it tangles itself with the strands of hair that twist around another, soothingly tugging on them. it doesn’t take much more than that for you to finally relax against his frame, sinking into the warmth his body offers you.

“i wasn’t avoiding you,” you whisper, just loud enough for him to hear.

“liar,” he murmurs back.

“i wasn’t!” you insist, “i just… i didn’t know what to do around you. you never yell but—”

“i did.”

you hum in agreement, “you did.”

hongjoong’s arms get tighter around you as though he’s afraid you might slip away unless he holds on tight. you don’t mind; the pressure is honestly quite nice. it helps melt your inhibitions, your fear of telling hongjoong exactly how you feel. you shouldn’t be scared when it’s quite obvious how much the man adores you.

“it felt like something changed between us,” it doesn’t feel so hard to admit that when you’re in his arms, “i didn’t want to do anything that might change it even more.”

you’re met with a few seconds of silence; it’s hard to discern whether it’s comforting or anxiety inducing, yet you’re more than happy to sit in it. if hongjoong needs to take a breather before responding then you’re happy for him to do that. you’d much rather sit uncomfortably for a few seconds than have him raise his voice at you again.

although something inside of you tells you that it’s unlikely for that to happen again.

“you’re silly, dove,” he finally responds, forever taking place in just those few seconds. “the only thing that changes between us is how much i adore you, and that continues to grow and grow each time i see your face.”

“it can’t have grown much these last few days then,” you comment, “you’ve barely seen me…”

“oh, but i have,” he says it as if it’s obvious, “i see you every time i close my eyes. whenever i blink, you’re there, saying something cheeky to seonghwa that you know will get you into just the right amount of trouble to get you what you want,” he brings you closer still, his grip so tight that you’re certain your ribs might crack under the pressure, “so yes, darling, my love for you has grown exponentially these past few days.”

you can’t help but let yourself smile, tucking yourself into that sweet spot between his chin and his shoulder to hide it. he smells so good, just like he always he does, and you pull a deep breath in through your nose. cinnamon and home fills your senses and you realise that no matter how hard you try, you can’t stay away from hongjoong for long.

he’s just as much your home as seonghwa is.

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez fic #opposites attract universe #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader

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littlexdeaths · 2 months

Text

we should probably hear him out, right?

older brother’s best friend eddie x fem reader

warnings: angst, miscommunication, reader is bratty and mean bc her insecurities get the best of her, eddie is far too sweet for his own good.

it’s a recipe for disaster masterlist.

a/n: ngl i did struggle a bit with this one, so i really wanna thank @strangerstilinski & @uglypastels & @undead-supernova for giving me some much needed advice. ily all 💕also this is a tad bit long… oopsie. xx.

eddie was beyond confused.

you haven’t spoken to him in days and whenever he came around to see sid, you had holed yourself up in your room. your bedroom window remained locked and despite his futile attempts to get you to open up, you ignored him.

it was such a complete 180 from how you’d been acting only a few days prior— so he couldn’t help but assume the worst.

maybe you had changed your mind, regretted this… or more specifically regretted him.

what else was he supposed to think?

but you really couldn't help yourself — too busy replaying that moment over and over in your head.

a flash of strawberry blonde hair. and the memory of eddie’s gentle gaze directed so sweetly at someone who decidedly wasn't you…

it had the green mist that clouded your mind twisting into something else entirely, something uglier. jealousy gave way to hurt, and hurt gave way to anger.

seeing eddie with her had pushed all of your insecurities to the surface. they bubbled hotly beneath your ribs and left you feeling sick to your stomach for the first few days, but that was before you realized that anger was far easier to deal with than sadness.

now, you clung to your rage like a safety blanket.

and while you wanted to be angry with both of them— it really wasn’t chrissy’s fault.

so you took that anger and frustration out on him, as childish as it was. and the more days that passed, your cold shoulder morphed into clipped words and pointed glares.

it was enough for even sid to take notice.

“dude, i don’t know what happened but i think i preferred it when she was making heart eyes at you.” he’d said after you stormed through the garage during one of their band practices.

purposefully knocking your shoulder against eddie’s while you passed by. it was so completely out of character for you that it had all the guys stunned into an uncomfortable silence.

but despite how poorly you continued to treat him, eddie kept showing up regardless. while it was always under the guise of hanging out with your brother, you knew better.

he tried his best to find a time to pull you aside to talk to you, but you were being more elusive than ever. and his own frustrations with your actions began to weigh heavily on him.

and one of these days he would explode— whether sid was there to witness it or not.

everything finally reaches a boiling point just a week later, when you came downstairs to find eddie lounging on your sofa. a random horror flick playing on the tv and your brother nowhere to be found.

while you could’ve turned around and retreated to the privacy of your room, the petty side of you wants to continue to push his buttons. so you make your way down the stairs, quietly shuffling behind the sofa and leaning your hip against it.

once you have a better view you can’t help but roll your eyes at the choice of the film, the cover art staring up at you almost mockingly.

cheerleader camp, what a surprise.

“really, munson? i thought you of all people would’ve had better taste than this shit.”

your voice sounds a beat before a dramatic score fills the room and eddie jumps in surprise. his curls bounce when his head whips around to peek up at you, and you expect to be met with a look of irritation. but you’re more than confused to see the relief that flits across his features instead.

because at least you’re talking to him.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.

and you have to look away from the intensity of his gaze, already feeling your defenses start to crumble. damn him. so you advert your attention back to the movie, jaw tightening as you see a flash of brightly colored pom poms fill the screen.

“oh, nothing…” you inhale sharply, “it’s just obvious that you have a type.”

you gesture towards the tv and any lingering anger swirling in your body begins to dissipate. but before he can see the flash of hurt in your eyes, you quickly turn on your heel and start to climb the stairs back towards your room.

“whoa— whoa, sweetheart, hang on!” eddie huffs, hopping over the back of the sofa to rush after you.

only his socks slip on the hardwood floor and he almost goes tumbling to the ground. but he’s able to catch himself on the banister, and uses the momentum to skip past the first few steps to the landing.

“i really don’t want to do this right now, eddie.”

a glance over your shoulder has you quickening your pace, practically taking the stairs two at a time in an effort to put more distance between you. but eddie is a lot faster than you gave him credit for. the male was already hot on your heels once you reach the top of the staircase.

“jesus christ— slow down!”

you ignore him and continue down the hall toward your bedroom, and you’ve barely crossed the threshold before he’s tugging on your wrist to whirl you back around. eddie is practically panting as he pulls you closer and it takes everything in your power not to lean into his touch.

“will you please just tell me what the hell is going on?” he pleads, leaning against the door-jam.

“i don’t know, why don’t you ask your new girlfriend about it?” you scoff, yanking your wrist out of his grip and attempting to slam the door in his face.

but eddie sticks his foot into the crack right before it can fully close, wincing as a fiery pain shoots up into his calf. and despite the throbbing in his foot, he pushes his way into your room.

“mouse, what are you even talking about?”

you can hear the frustration that begins to bleed into his voice, but you keep your back to him. you know that seeing him was going to make this that much harder.

“please just cut the bullshit eddie, i saw you with her,” you voice cracks as you try to swallow down the emotions threatening to burst from your chest.

“with who?”

“— chrissy!”

it’s silent for a beat, besides the sounds of your heavy breathing. so when you finally muster the courage to face him. that confused, yet hurt expression doesn’t falter.

“sweetheart, i honestly don’t know what you’re so upset about.”

he rubs a hand down his face with a deep sigh.

“i’m not blind, eddie,” you’re almost offended that he thinks he might be able to get away with pretending that it never happened. “i saw how she looked at you.”

eddie just stares at you for a moment, bewildered and unblinking. until he suddenly bursts into a fit of laughter, which only re-ignites the hurt and fury that’s been swirling in your gut for the past week and a half.

“i really don’t see how any of this is funny, eddie,” you snap.

“it’s just….” he practically wheezes, taking a step toward you. “you’ve got this whole thing wrong, baby.”

the slip of the pet name has your insides fluttering, despite your lingering resentment.

“well enlighten me, then.”

it takes him a minute to calm down completely, but once he does he’s reaching out for your hands and closes the lingering space between your bodies.

“i promise you, mouse. i’m really not her type.”

your snort has him sighing deeply before he cradles your cheeks between his palms. while you’re not satisfied with that answer, your anger starts to fizzle under the warmth of his gaze.

eddie then licks his lips while he attempts to collect his thoughts and your eyes can’t help but follow the motion.

“let’s just say… we bat for the same team.”

embarrassment immediately floods through you as the weight of his words begin to sink in.

and now you feel like a total idiot.

“oh.” you breathe.

“yeah, oh,” he chuckles.

“oh my god, i’m so stupid,” you groan, letting your head fall forward to bump into his shoulder.

“hey, you’re not stupid, mouse. just maybe… a little prone to jumping to conclusions.”

you can feel him laugh again as he envelopes you completely in his arms. and you gladly bury your face deeper into the crook of his neck in an effort to hide your warm cheeks.

“however…” he continues, “next time, if i do something that makes you worry like that. will you promise to just come and talk to me?”

he can feel you nod your head, his body relaxing when your lips press into his clothed shoulder.

“while i know i can an asshole sometimes, i’m not a total prick.”

eddie grins when that pulls a giggle out of you, having missed that sound more than he’d care to admit. the male then gently grips your chin between his thumb and fore finger, coaxing you up until you meet his eyes.

and there’s nothing but sincerity that shines through them.

“so, what do you say?” he muses.

your head tilts in slight confusion as he leans in to nudge his nose with yours, your breath mingling together.

“be my girl?”

series taglist: @nailbatanddungeon @angel-eyes-and-devil-hearts @mugloversonly @eddiemunsonfuxks @munsonhoneybaby @alagalaska @creative1writings @missmarch-99 @stolen-in-moonlight @xxbimbobunnyxx @calumfmu @bastardstevie @prestinalove @indigosparkle444 @tlclick73 @hellfire--cult @take-everything-you-can

let me know if you’d like to join the taglist!

#the freak writes 🫧#my series: it’s a recipe for disaster 🫧#eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x f!reader #brothers best friend!eddie munson #brothersbff!eddie munson

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argisthebulwark · 2 months

Text

Pretty Please?

summary: Asking them to let you tie a bow around their bicep💕 gn reader, no gendered pronouns or y/n used. feat: Farkas, Vilkas, Brynjolf, Miraak, Mercer warnings: some swearing, unserious threats (Mercer) masterlist

"Oh hell yeah." Farkas isn't ashamed to admit that he flexes just a little when you wrap the cute ribbon around his bicep. He loves the excited gleam in your eye and the shameless way your hands linger on his muscles even when the task is complete. "Now what?" He laughs, enjoying the satisfied smile on your face. "You keep it there." "For how long?" "Until it falls off, I guess." You shrug, allowing his arms to wrap around you. Farkas can't help himself from drawing closer to you, there's something magnetic about being in your presence. Any silly little joke is worth seeing you smile. "What if it breaks?" "How would it break?" Oh, you've played right into his game. Farkas flexes his triceps, feeling the flimsy ribbon strain and snap around his muscles. He adores the pout you force to cover up the clear amusement when you pluck the pink fabric from his arm. "You just wanted to show off." "C'mon, tie another one. I promise to leave it all day." Of course he's true to his word. Farkas double checks your knot on the second bow, strangely invested in this one staying as long as possible. He's thrilled to talk to the new recruits about his lovely partner who'd placed it there, fingers brushing the soft fabric sentimentally each time he thinks of you.

Vilkas grumbles something under his breath, eyes never straying from his book. Behind the locks of dark hair you spot his expression, noting the lack of real annoyance. Fighting back a grin you play along with his obligatory protests. "It's just a cute little bow." "What purpose does it serve?" "I can ask someone else." You sigh theatrically, turning on your heel. Right on queue Vilkas huffs, a strong hand closing around your wrist and tugging you closer. "Just put it on." He growls just as you'd expected. He thinks he's so scary, but Vilkas sits eerily still and allows you to tie a pretty pink ribbon around his bicep. Despite his protests it remains there all day. One sharp glare shuts down the giggling from a group of whelps resting in the main hall, though the older Companions are harder to quiet. Farkas nearly combusts when Vilkas breezes past him without saying a word, his gleeful expression matched only by yours. After a few boring meetings you scurry down to the marketplace in search of your partner, thrilled at the sight of him pawing through bits of armor while merchants and civilians stare pointedly at your ribbon. It had started as a funny suggestion but seeing him now makes your heart melt. Fully aware that you're killing his tough persona, you skip closer until Vilkas' large hand instinctively reaches for you. He continues haggling with the merchant, seemingly unaware of the pink ribbon flapping in the gentle afternoon breeze. "You doin' this for all the lads?" Brynjolf smirks, holding his arm out to you. "Why?" You hum, so carefully tying a perfect bow over his muscled arm. He isn't sure why you've chosen to add a pink ribbon to his armor but for you he'd do anything. "Would that make you jealous?" "Oh, desperately." He deadpans, enveloping you in his arms. Brynjolf relaxes when you brush through his hair, grateful for the distraction from the endless stacks of paperwork towering on his desk. "Just you, Bryn." You assure him, adjusting the bow until it's perfect. "Thank the gods for that - but did ya have to choose such a bright color, love?" "Some of the recruits have been eyeing you a bit too much for my liking." You admit, sinking deeper into his touch. "Had to stake my claim." "I live and breathe for you, love." From a man who's spent decades lying and stealing, those are the truest words he's ever spoken. Brynjolf loves the excited way you fuss at his bow, ensuring it will stay in place. "What if I get called on a job? This frilly pink'll surely get me caught." "Good thing you're the best there is." "Aye, love. Got that right."

"Absolutely not." Miraak lies, resolve already cracking. He can never say to no to you for long. "Why not?" "Why should I allow this?" "I think you'll look cute." He groans at your words, fully aware that he can not resist that sweet tone of your voice. Dropping whatever tome he'd been reading for far too long he allows you to crawl into his lap. It's painfully difficult to not just give in to you. Miraak knows that his intimidating persona is all but shattered in your presence but that does not stop him from grasping at its last remaining shreds when he can. "I have slain thousands. I could end you with a word. I am not cute." "Fine." You huff, still clutching the frilly piece of ribbon. "You're pretty, is that better?" "It is not." He grumbles, putting up no fight when your fingers dance up his arm. "Would this please you?" "Greatly." His heart swells at that smile, the one you've only shown him. To the rest of Tamriel you are a being of myth, the Last Dragonborn, the only one who holds the world's fate in the palm of your hands. You could save or condemn continents with a word. Yet here you sit, face cupped in Miraak's gloved hands and pouting over a cute pink ribbon. He sighs, unable to maintain the act any longer. "As you wish, my Dragon."

"Try it and I'll gut you." Mercer grunts, content to ignore your request - until he sees the disappointment shimmering in your eyes. That excited smile fades and your hands fall to your sides and oh, the guilt kicks his ass. He turns behind the desk, disgusted by how badly be wants to please you. Wordlessly, he raises his left arm. He glares down at the list of recently recovered oddities without absorbing any information when you happily bounce closer, touch featherlight as you tie the scrap of fabric around his arm. "You markin' me for some sort of hit?" He snarks, attempting to distance himself from the sheer pleasure of you leaning so close to him. "There's easier ways to kill you, honey." Your voice is light, unaffected by his refusal. "I'm goin' away on a job for a while, I just figured you'd think of me when you saw this." Mercer grunts noncommittally once more, swallowing the words threatening to escape - you think he requires a silly bow to think of you? Every moment you're away from the Cistern he's worrying over your safety, counting the hours the job should take until his chest is tight. He doesn't mention it again, though after your departure he catches a few other thieves snickering behind their hands. He strides through the Flagon without looking at them, summoning the most cutting voice he can before speaking. "Say another word and you won't live to see sunrise."

#skyrim #skyrim x reader #x reader fanfic #writing #farkas #vilkas #brynjolf #miraak #mercer frey

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fraugwinska · 3 months

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Hello beautiful! Not only I just discovered your writing and binds read your entire master list … could I request a part 2 from the eye of the storm?

Maybe something like where the reader is worried about Alastor at night and she goes to comfort him. He asks her to tell him a story while she lays beside him but as he falls asleep he ends cuddling? Tysm and please take all the time you need💕💕💕

Your wishes are my command - I strayed a little from your idea, but I hope you'll like it nonetheless! It's angst and fluff, and a little sweet at the end! And of course, it leaves room for a possible (Spicy) Part 3? ;> Who knows?

This is the second part of a Mini-Series. Part 1: The Eye of the Storm is right over here.

Two weeks had passed since the night Alastor's nightmare almost tore the hotel apart. Your wounds, caused by the sharp claws of the demonic form of Alastor, had healed pretty well and were barely noticeable anymore, thanks to dutiful tending of Charlie and Niffty, except for the scar on your hip, still pink and sore. You didn't mind, though. It was a physical memento of a sacrifice made for someone you deeply cared about.

In fact, you had a hard time forgetting that night, because every time you looked at the scar, the image of the Radio Demon, hunched and sobbing on his bed, flashed through your head, and you felt your heart clench. He hadn't spoken much to you since then. He hadn't spoken much to anyone in the hotel, really. You tried to approach him, but he always seemed to find an excuse to get out of a conversation, or leave the room you entered. When you asked him if he was alright, he laughed it off and waved his hand, telling you it was not worth worrying about. You knew him enough by now to know it wasn't true. You also knew him enough to know that if you tried to push him, he'd retreat further.

So, you just observed him from a distance, the way his smile looked tired when he thought no one was looking, the way his laugh seemed hollow, his eyes dim and exhausted. Sometimes you'd catch him blankly staring at the wall or ceiling or a painting on the wall for minutes, before snapping back and continuing whatever task he was supposed to do.

"I'm worried about him, too."

Charlie was sitting beside you on the lounge set in the foyer, both of you nursing a cup of hot cocoa, while Alastor was preparing dinner in the kitchen, humming some melancholic tune that traveled through the closed door. "But I don't know how to help him. He doesn't seem like he's interested in opening up to me or the others, or talk about what happened. It's as if he's just... shut off."

You sighed, sipping from the drink. "Yeah. He's been getting slimmer too, and always looks so... tired."

Charlie nodded, and you exchanged a glance. "Is there any chance that... maybe he would open up to you? You seemed to have a connection to him more than we were ever able to have with him. Maybe it's just wishful thinking, but I can't help but think he'd feel more comfortable around you."

"I tried, Charlie - he just... vanishes, before I can even finish a sentence... he avoids me. It's like he's running from me."

Charlie looked into the bottom of her mug, turning the now empty dish in her hands. "...Well, in times like this, we don't want the help. Especially if our pride is involved." she smiled warmly at you, her usual determination now back in her eyes. "But I know someone who would stop at nothing to help him."

Your footsteps sounded much louder in the silence of the night as you climbed the stairs up to Alastors suite. You glanced at the lights, remembering the green sheen and how the swirling shadows in the dimness had made your skin crawl. But the staircase was dipped in the usual golden light, nothing amiss, nothing scary. There was only a faint sound, almost like a static, hanging in the air. Alastors own wards and spell protecting his space, you were sure. Which left the possibility of him already knowing you were on your way. For a moment you hesitated - was it of use to go to him when he'd possibly already fled to evade you? A few nights ago you might've retreated. But after two weeks of watching your friend suffer, your determination prevailed, and you knocked, firmly and resolutely.

A second of silence. Then another one. You raised your hand to knock again when the door swung open - And Alastor stood before you, his grin in place, yet there was a sense of exhaustion seeping through his mask. He seemed taken off guard, obviously he wasn't expecting someone to come visit him late at night, so your prediction had been proven wrong. It was very rare to see the radio demon in anything else than his usual attire. But he was standing before you now, in a scandalously casual ensemble: A crimson robe over an open collared black pajama shirt showing some of his usually hidden, taupe fur, the silk tie loosely knotted at the waist, black matching trousers and without shoes.

"It's mighty late for a visit, dear." His voice held a sharpness and rough edge. But the tired, dull expression behind the grin was already crumbling when he gazed into your face.

"I wanted to see you. I'd noticed you weren't... doing so good after what happened."

He cast his glance everywhere but to you, avoiding your concerned stare. "I've told you before, your concern is absolutely unnecessary dear, I'm fi-" "Alastor, please." you interrupted, gently taking his wrist into your palm to halt his hand from waving his way out of the conversation. You looked at him, and he tried not to look at you, but slowly, oh so slowly, his gaze slipped back to your face, and his composure visibly started to crumble, his grip on his tactical expression slipping like sand through fingers. "I'm not here to judge you. Or to berate you. I'm worried."

He chuckled bitterly, closing the distance between you as his whole stance now seemed to curl. "Worrying is not necess-" "Probably." you shrugged, your hand sliding from his wrist to his cold fingers. "But friends worry, when they see the person they care about suffer." "Friends are a bother." his eyes flickered. "That's true. And yet they care."

He let his head bow forward, and suddenly he reminded you so much of that dark, trembling creature you found on his bed two weeks ago. You never thought the powerful Radio Demon would allow himself to appear like this in front of someone consciously. But maybe you weren't just someone... to him. The thought made your pulse flutter.

"I find myself unable..." Alastor started, his eyes staring at your intertwined hands. "...to find rest these days. I don't feel the need to sleep as frequently as your fellow residents, but... the incident, the dream, what happened - it seems it has rattled me more than I care to admit. What you did for me and what I did to you in return..." He chuckled, but it sounded much weaker, lacking his usually cheerful mockery as his free hand hovered over the side of your waist where the fresh scar sat under your clothes. "The thought of it being repeated feels unbearable."

"That's why I'm here." You squeezed his hand. "I've seen you at your worst and still came back, because I wanted to tell you that I'm neither weary nor scared. And that you don't have to bear this burden alone, Alastor. Please... let me help you."

The Radio Demon stood still, and for a moment you thought he'd retreat again, but then his shoulders relaxed, and the grin melted into a small, tired smile. His hand tightened on yours and he sighed. "Well then, come inside."

As you stepped into the familiar room, you noticed the difference immediately. The curtains were drawn, the lamps were on and the record player was playing quietly, a melancholic jazz piece filling the silence. Alastor had done his best to keep the memory of that night away by repairing the walls and furniture and replacing the shredded bedding and mattress of his bed with brand new ones. So new in fact, they looked like they were never touched.

"Please, take a seat." he gestured to one of the two wing chairs by his fireplace, now burning in warm oranges and scarlets rather than the eerie green you remembered, and as you settled down he joined you in the other opposite to you. The silence hung between you for a moment, neither of you really knowing what to say next. He was intently watching the flames dancing on the scorched wood, and you studied his profile, the soft, dark fur of his ears, his thin, elegant nose and the deep crease between his eyebrows. You had never seen him lower his guard this much. Well, that wasn't quite true - once, in this very room, although under much different circumstances. You could see his hand, resting on the arm of the chair, twitch as if it were fighting an impulse.

"It's funny, isn't it?" he started, his voice a bit too light. "I'm a powerful entity in hell, able to rip and tear and destroy. A feared, powerful, dangerous overlord. And yet I seem to be rendered helpless by my own mind. Laughable, really."

"I'm not laughing." you said quietly, and his head turned towards you, a raised eyebrow and a hint of amusement in his expression.

"Indeed you are not."

"And I think you are far from helpless." You continued, a small smile appearing on your face as you watched a little flame wind itself from a knothole, gaining volume and fizzing strongly. "I've never met a demon as strong-willed and determined as you, Alastor. I think the reason it has been affecting you so badly, is because you have power over everything else. But when it comes to the things happening inside your own head - when you are asleep - you aren't in control, and that can be terrifying."

His gaze was fixed on your face, the crimson of his irises shimmering and flickering. He looked... intrigued. And, something else. Something softer, that made your heartbeat a little faster.

"You are... a fascinating thing." he hummed, and his fingers started to drum on the armrest, his other hand fidgeting, still fighting that strange, hidden urge. "You seem to... calm me. With your mere presence, it feels... soothing. The thoughts of that night don't vanish, but they lose their grip. Like the tempest in me is being tamed." "Is that a bad thing?" you asked, a bit puzzled, and a bit amused.

"Yes and No." He answered, quickly and without hesitation. "I don't depend on others. It's unreliable. Too many factors are involved, and when you care about someone, it means you leave them with the ability to hurt you." His hand was tapping faster. "That sounds like a lonely existence." "Loneliness is the most reliable thing of them all. But..." he sighs and follows your gaze back to his fireplace. The small flame grew into a strong blaze, swishing and crackling loudly now. "...It is also the most draining. And I have to admit that I'm thoroughly exhausted, dearest."

"I'll stay with you tonight." You whispered, leaning forward and reaching out to take his restless hand. The motion surprised him, his eyes snapping back to you. "If you want to." He stared at your hand on his, the fire reflecting on his ruby eyes, and slowly, the twitching and drumming subsided, and his fingers curled around yours, a small squeeze.

"I believe I'd be glad for the company." he uttered.

For the next half an hour or so, you sat with Alastor in comfortable silence, both of your eyes on the flames and hands still intertwined as the jazz faded into blues, slow, melancholic and calm until the fire died down. Sometimes, his thumb drew little circles on the side of your hand, and you took it as an encouragement. His face was back to its tired state, though he didn't seem quite as guarded and withdrawn anymore. When there was nothing more than faintly glowing logs in the ember bed, you shifted your weight and gave his hand a careful tug. "Do you think it's time?"

He swallowed audibly and his eyes closed. "I suppose so." he smiled tightly, rising and pulling you up with him, and you both walked over to his gigantic bed, draped with fresh crimson sheets and matching duvets, untouched, spotless, pristine. He stopped before the side of the bed and for a few moments - he stared down, his grip on your hand almost painfully tight now. You tilted your head, giving him a reassuring smile.

"If you're uncomfortable about sharing the bed I can pull over one of the chairs, I don't mind..."

"Absolutely not." he turned his head, and you could see how flustered his expression was now. "Ah - I mean... no, dear, that's alright."

You left his side and rounded the bed, lifting the duvet without looking at him as you shuffled out of your slippers. If you were honest, you felt just as awkward as Alastor looked, not to mention nervous and anxious and a lot of other complicated things. But you'd be damned to show that now, and risk him retreating. So you settled in, slipping your legs under the heavy covers. They felt just as comfortable as they looked.

You noticed him hesitating on his side of the bed, unmoving, his hands halted at the knot of his robe. You adamantly looked away from him, overly interested in the obscure knick-knacks that were scattered in the cupboards on the opposite wall - it was clear he was struggling to shed his clothes in front of you, even if it was only an overcoat. You heard an airy, quiet chuckle and fabric rustling, felt the duvet lifting again and then a weight dipped the mattress next to you. You could feel Alastor shifting and settling, could hear the shallow, anxious breaths and were aware that his eyes were burning on the side of your head, and you realized that he, too, was doing a valiant job at keeping his composure. You leaned back into the pillows, then he snapped his fingers and there was silence. And darkness.

At the lack of light in your vision, your senses heightened and you took everything in much more intently. His body heat close, his breathing next to you, his faint scent of smoke and herbs surrounding you. How small the space between your bodies was, the last remaining inch a gaping ravine in your mind. The mattress dipped as his body turned, facing yours and now his eyes were right there, glimmering and deep red in the pitch black darkness, following your every movement as you shifted too. You felt your heart hammering loudly and you could almost hear the blood rushing through your body. And you knew Alastor could hear that. Hear your quickened breathing. Feel the warmth of you just as you felt his.

There was a tense, terrifying moment, stretched endlessly until your eyelids fluttered shut - you heard, as much as you felt, the bed dipping under his shifting body weight, and suddenly, the ravine was filled by him and he was all around you, pulling you in sort of a protective embrace as you were surrounded by his warmth. Your head fell against the base of his throat as he tucked your face into the crook of his neck, a shaky sigh leaving him as he wrapped his limbs around you. The sudden proximity caught you entirely off-guard - you knew Alastor had a deep aversion against close physical contact. The hand holding had been a huge success for you, a sign that his trust for you went beyond the ordinary. You had been fully prepared to honor a discreet distance between you and him as to not make him feel more uncomfortable, but to pull you so close like this, voluntarily at that, initiated by him, made you go rigid in nervousness at how to react to it. You could already feel him retreat, that awkwardness from before already flooding back between you as he felt your body stiffen.

"Aah... my apologies, dear, I didn't mean to get so..."

Your reaction was instant, almost instinctively, body already knowing what your mind still was figuring out. Your hands slid around his slender waist as you pulled yourself closer to him, since you believed actions spoke louder than words to soothe the conflict he was battling. One leg came to rest between his, you felt his hips brushing against yours, and your palm came to rest in between his shoulder blades and you buried your face into the warm fur of his throat, and all tension left him, as another, heavier, long-drawn sigh rumbled through him, and he curled his form back around your smaller frame.

"If I'll return to the dreams that caused such havoc..." he mumbled quietly, his tone unusually wavering. "Then I'll get you out again and help Niffty clean up the mess." "Silly girl, absolutely ridiculous." his breath tickled against your ear, but he sounded lighter already. More like his usual self.

His leg entangled between yours, the limb as muscular as his chest and shoulders had always hinted at. His hand was tracing shapes and unknown symbols onto your back, and you wondered if it was a form of spellcasting to keep you safe while sleeping. But whether it was, or just unconscious movements, the gesture alone was making your heart flutter. The fact that it was his very real, very physical, very touchable chest and hands that were pressed onto your barely clothed skin, providing the soft massaging, and the warm, comforting sensation of his body heat against your own - it was exhilarating and overwhelmingly, absurdly, beautifully intimate.

Friends.

You wondered if that word could describe you and the radio demon. There was something... so much more, at least in your head. So much deeper. He meant something different to you than the others, Vaggie, Charlie - something special. A deep emotional pull, an urge to always seek and - absurdly, knowing he was who he was - to protect, the need to understand. To care and to comfort and to feel his presence at your side. An inevitable, chaotic and maybe even borderline obsessive attraction you couldn't and didn't want to escape. It had already become evident to you, especially in these past two weeks, that you felt something deeper for the demon everyone in the hotel was so wary about. He was special to you, yes, an anchor in a world that could throw any horrible thing at you at any given time, a world that wasn't trustworthy nor consistent. But in a weird twist of fate, he was. To you, he was calmness, security, trust, consistency... happiness.

"...Alastor?" You murmured quietly into the darkness, feeling his cheek come to a rest on the side of your head.

"Yes?" he breathed back, voice laced with drowsiness. His hand kept its rhythmic circling motions on your back, and you realized there was a good chance for you both to drift into a blissfully undisturbed slumber like this, which would make waking up in each other's arms so much easier than the alternative.

"I... You're..." But as soon as you wanted to tell him, to say it out loud, words eluded you. Every sound, every combination of syllables suddenly seemed wrong, sounded stupid, like a horrendous mistake. Your heartbeat quickened and you felt a lump in your throat, your feeble courage battling with your cowardice as the idea of giving this whole idea up, putting those dangerous feelings aside and trying to suppress and pretend they never existed for the sake of preserving your one true friendship, fought back with everything it could muster.

It was such a terrifying leap. And wouldn't it be selfish? To burden him with your feelings, to most likely ruin the bond you had with him right now, which made both your lives better with a companionship so rare. Such an utterly idiotic, thoughtless move.

"Darling..."

You could feel a finger push your chin up and his lips were suddenly a hair's breadth from your own, his nose brushing yours and his warm breath ghosted over your skin. How easy would it be to close the gap now, fill that tiny remainder of space with your mouth and he would finally know what you were about to say. The mere thought made your stomach tingle and your breath tremble, you were aching for any form of confirmation that it would be okay, okay to have feelings for him. You'd accept anything he'd give you, even if it wasn't everything you yearned for - you'd take anything he was ready to offer.

"... isn't your principle that actions speak louder than words?"

A blink in the darkness. A gasp into the silence. And then he was finally closing the space between your faces.

Lips - soft and pliable, moving against yours. Tender, soft, firm pressure. A kiss that said everything words would never manage to convey. Your fingers clawed into the silky fabric of his shirt, your nose pressed against his jaw, tears brimming and stinging behind your eyes as you sighed deeply, relief crashing over you and bliss taking hold. It could've lasted for eternity and still would've ended too soon as he gently pulled away, leaving one more short, lingering touch to the corner of your lips.

"Now let's rest. We shall continue this discussion in the morning." he murmured tiredly as his hand resumed its massaging, this time brushing underneath the hem of your shirt as he settled back into his initial embrace. You laid in his arms for minutes with your heart still racing, but now you could hear and feel his too, drumming in his chest. Two rhythms, beating in wonderful, chaotic harmony.

"Sweet dreams." you managed to whisper, sleepily and content as his breathing flattened, his static quieted and his hands came to rest unmoving at the curve of your back.

And with a long, final sigh, the Radio Demon drifted into deep, calm, undisturbed sleep.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fraugwinskawrites #quickfic #fluff #angst #something sweet at the end #soft alastor #one bed

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mimixso · 6 months

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tartaglia hate club (ft. kazuha and albedo)

kazuha - the comfort streamer who can do no wrong. in the eyes of the public, kazuha is an angel, and in reality... he's still an angel. he tends to stream peaceful games like stardew valley and pokémon. however, he'll occasionally play other genres when he collabs with other streamers. kazuha also posts lots of song covers and even writes original songs! people fall head over heels for his lovely voice, as it could easily lull just about anyone to sleep. most of all, he's admired for his gentle and kind personality. he's never lost his cool, even while telling off haters, and that's why fans have labelled him the biggest green flag of all time. his only red flag is his occasional... moments. sometimes when kazuha is really into something, he'll get poetic to the point where his viewers don't understand a thing.

xiao - where do i even start with this one? he's like grumpy cat #1 of the friend group. although he acts like he doesn't give a damn about his friends, he cares about them a lot deep down. fans tend to clip moments where he shows his softer side, and everyone squeals over how adorable he is. they're absolutely in love with miao for the same reason. people love the way xiao looks at melon. although he's pretty cold most of the time, it's also pretty entertaining. unlike other streamers who literally throw a fit when they lose, xiao just stares into the camera with a murderous look on his face. what's even funnier is his deadpan expression whenever he wins a match in an fps game. he carries every single valorant stream for real. fans also LOVE his horror content because of his lack of enthusiasm and emotion.

scaramouche - emo freak. he's a creep </3 he's a weirdooooo!! what the hell is he doing here? he doesn't belong here. anyway, scara is a bit of an oddball. whereas xiao is passive and rather uncaring, scara is outright mean to his chat. they enjoy it though! he calls them freaks for finding happiness in being degraded, and honestly, he's kind of got a point. sometimes when his chat calls him mean, he’ll tell them that he’s not mean; he’s just telling the truth. it’s absolutely brutal, and his fans love him for it. scaramouche is an absolute god at basically any multiplayer game. he secretly practices in his free time because he hates the thought of losing during collabs. the only times he’ll willingly give up first place are instances where his loss would allow yui to win.

childe - a lot of people compare him to ed sheeran because he's a ginger in the music industry. each week, he has to make a stream debunking the allegations, and he is absolutely done at this point. he can't take it anymore. other than that, he's just a silly little goofball... with a bit of a murderous streak in pvp games. he streams games very rarely. honestly, he cameos in oliver's streams more than he streams video game content. even so, his fans love it when he decides to collab with the other streamers within his circle. they especially love his dynamic with scara, as it's so obvious the two are close friends, but they're also always at each others' throats. sometimes childe's siblings will randomly enter his room as he's streaming, but his audience doesn't really mind. they find it rather adorable, actually!

lyney - in the beginning, people followed him for his flirty personality. they soon realized that he was also incredibly funny and entertaining too! his fans tend to like his collab streams the most due to the fact that he never has dull interactions with other people. lyney always has something witty to say, and it really shows when he's streaming with èlise. his chat is always intent on believing that there's no way he could get more flirty, but he always manages to prove them wrong when he's live with his beloved girlfriend. out of all the streamers in the group, lyney is spotted in public the most often, and he's always with èlise. fans are always surprised by the fact that he's the clingy one in the relationship. despite being the rizzler himself, lyney doesn't actually play dating sims often. instead, he opts to play mystery games. although he's not albedo level intelligent, lyney has proven that he's also a genius.

kaveh - respectfully, he is the most babygirl man that has ever lived. people were absolutely stunned the first time they saw him because wdym the dude who succumbs to gamer rage like every single stream just so happens to look like an absolute angel irl? they were even more shocked when he introduced his partner because they were even more gorgeous??? ever since that day, fans have been going crazy with the kavexis ship art. they're one of the most beloved couples in the group. like scara, kaveh's content is a nice mix of various genres. he has the brainpower to play logic-based games, but he also enjoys playing pvp games with his friends every once in a while (although if he's playing with scara, alexis and yui always ensure that they're in the game too to prevent any arguments).

albedo - the braincell-haver of the group. his intelligence never fails to amaze people. whenever albedo plays mystery games, he’s always one step ahead of his chat. every single one of his predictions ends up being true, and when chat asks how he figured it out, he explains in the nerdiest way possible. like ari, albedo will also do his chat’s homework questions (in fact, he’d have entire streams dedicated to tutoring). most of the time, he’s like a babysitter in group collabs. he’s always keeping scara, childe, and kaveh in check, and it’s become a huge meme in the fandom. on top of all that, he has a surprisingly lovely voice! albedo rarely releases music content, but whenever he covers a song, it always trends on social media. fans have been begging for an aribedo duet.

pspspsps @littlebluejayy, @kunix, @xlivr, @uinnea, @alekav, @i--luv--you (i hope it’s okay that i tagged you all)

#📸 — streamer au #💕 — spoken from the heart #🌸 — kazurei #🐈 — miao #⛅️ — scarayui #🫧 — chiliver #💍 — lynèl #🪽 — kavexis #💫 — aribedo

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 6 months

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Bluebird — Azriel x Reader — Part VIII

Hey! Sorry for the wait on this one, it’s a big one and took me longer than I anticipated! I haven’t had the chance to properly proofread so sorry for any mistakes! Hope you enjoy all the same 💕

Summary: Forced to go on the road with her father, Reader gets a rude awakening that starts to play on her mind. But Azriel’s not willing to let go so easily.

Click here to be added to the Bluebird taglist! Please remember to check your settings and make sure you can be tagged! 💕

Word count: 8.7k

Warnings: Pretty gruesome descriptions of violence and injury. Masturbation. Nsfw, 18+, minors dni!

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The curtains were drawn.

To superior fae sight, nothing lay behind them besides darkness. Not even the flickering of a candle.

Azriel waited. And waited, and waited. His eyes did not once stray from the window, and hope burned fierce in him that those curtains would suddenly part, that a beautiful human face would appear that made his heart race and his skin feel too taut on his bones.

The fabric didn’t even twitch.

He knew, after a couple of hours, that he would not be seeing his Bluebird tonight. He tried not to feel too disappointed as he flew back towards the wall, the comfort of the fae realm. Such was the nature of their…relationship. It was clandestine and risky, and sometimes things would come up. Sometimes, one or both of them would be unavailable.

But as he stripped off his leathers and fell into his huge bed, he couldn’t tear his thoughts from her. Thoughts of where she was, what she was doing, what had rendered her unavailable to meet — whether she was safe.

Too many thoughts like that would do him no good. Would only worsen this…this alien sensation, of needing her with him all the time. Needing to have her in sight. Needing to have her at all.

He could only pray to the Mother that the next week pedalled on fast.

That he’d see his Bluebird soon.

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It had been the most uncomfortable day of your life.

A monotonous day on horseback, one landscape blurring into another. The village you were travelling to seemed like worlds away — and the journey was only made worse by the sticky summer heat, and the fact that you rode with Devin, slotted between the tight press of his muscled thighs.

Still, you were unflinching in your resolve that while you may not have been able to wriggle out of sharing a horse with him, you weren’t going to talk to him, no matter how much he tried to ply you with conversation.

It was his fault you had to come on this trip in the first damn place.

You tried your hardest to while away the time by sinking into your thoughts. It seemed that with each hour that passed, those thoughts became more vibrant, more longing. Thoughts of you, Azriel, a wildflower meadow. The ability to just…be in each other’s arms.

The ability to kiss him. Touch him.

Those thoughts didn’t help at all. It was an effort to keep them at bay, lest you make the ride even more uncomfortable.

But eventually — thankfully — you and your father’s group had arrived in the target village, just as the sun had been setting. News of your father’s cause had spread wide enough that it seemed his presence was expected. And very much welcomed.

You’d been ushered into the village tavern and supplied with more food and drinks than any of you needed. The feast kept you occupied while your father was absent awhile, apparently visiting a few villagers he was familiar with. And when he’d returned, it was there, that evening, nestled at the very back of the old, crumbling building, that you’d watched your his passionate presentation.

You’d heard the words spoken numerous times, of course. To his friends, and to anyone at the Bluebird Inn who would listen. But this was more than just a speech. This was an entire damn performance.

And it surprised you, how uncomfortable it made you to watch.

For all your father was quiet, brooding, sometimes soft-spoken, he commanded the tavern with a voice louder than you’d ever heard come out of him. His cheeks had grown ruddier as his own words riled him up. Spittle accompanied the angered, venomous words that left his mouth.

And it was all you could do to watch, your dinner feeling leaden in your stomach as you listened to the words — listened to him reel off a list of people he, personally, had met, who had suffered at the hands of the fae. As he told the story of your mother’s brutal death, and the details formed a lump in your throat, never lessening in impact. As he presented his ideas, his plans, in a way that was so refined, so expert, that it almost had you considering that they were the best course of action.

But you knew Azriel. You knew Azriel. These faeries that your father raged about were not his brethren. Azriel himself would abhor their actions.

You repeated that to yourself in your head, like a chant. Azriel was not like them. Azriel was good. Azriel cared for you.

Two whole hours, you had to sit there and listen to your father talk about frightening creatures who stole babies from their bassinets, who brutalised young girls, who tore families apart. Two whole hours, and your muscles were stiff and aching. Your head throbbing. Your body and mind desperate for the oblivion of sleep. A respite away from the pang in your gut.

Azriel was not like them. Azriel was good. Azriel cared for you.

The sight of your father and his men traipsing around the room with rolls of parchment and gathering signatures was a relief — only because you knew this would soon be over.

You sighed softly to yourself, slumping back in your chair and absentmindedly rubbing a hand over your stomach. As though it would somehow ease the complicated feelings that twisted it so violently.

“Impactful.” The chair beside you was pulled out, and Devin lowered himself into it. “Don’t you think?”

You gave the slightest dip of your chin. Couldn’t deny that your father had a way with words.

Devin pursed his lips, his eyes skating over you. “We have a long ride home, Y/N. Are you going to ignore me the whole way back, too?”

“Yes,” you hissed. “Because you had no right to talk to my father on my behalf.”

He folded his arms, appearing unflinching and unbothered by what he’d done. You may have thought he was in the wrong, but he certainly didn’t.

“I did so out of concern for you,” he replied. “Because what you said about the fae was wrong. None of them are good. The sooner you see that, the better.”

You bit inside of your cheek, simply to prevent yourself from arguing. But gods, you wanted to contest the statement. You wished you could tell him that you had cold, hard, beautiful evidence that he was wrong.

But doing so would only make things worse for you.

So you merely folded your own arms, and focused your gaze on the men weaving in and out of tables, gathering signatures, clapping supporters on the back and parting with well wishes. You stared and stared until the sight of them blurred.

And then Devin said, “You haven’t been yourself recently.”

You whipped your head around to look at him — gape at him. “You don’t know me well enough to say that.”

“I know you were acting shifty as fuck the night I came to check on you during the Summer Festival. You couldn’t get rid of me quick enough. I’d be forgiven for thinking you had someone there with you.”

“Who would I possibly have at my house?” you narrowed your eyes. “I’m not allowed to make friends, to form connections.”

His gaze softened. “I’m your friend.”

It wasn’t that long ago that you’d fantasised about him being more than that. He’d seemed so incredible, so gallant — a young man who could sweep you off your feet, and protect you while he guarded an entire village. You’d wondered if there was ever any likelihood of him being drawn to you, instead of one of the many other beautiful girls within proximity. You’d wanted to impress him.

Now, you just wanted him out of your fucking sight before you said something that would land you in more shit.

“You—”

The tavern’s front door flung open, hard enough to slam against the wall, abruptly severing your sentence.

All fell still and silent as every face looked up to take in the man who entered. Hair ripped from the knot at the back of his neck, and he was drenched in sweat, clothes rumpled and—

And saturated with blood.

There was a beat, and then everyone who crowded the small space appeared to collectively clock what they were seeing. A wave of gasps rippled through the room like a breeze.

“I—” the man’s eyes immediately landed on your father, as though it were him he searched for. “I tried to do something, but I was too late. I couldn’t—”

“What has happened?” Your father strode forward.

“I was too late,” he repeated. “I…I think you need to see this.”

Just like that, every member of your group was readying themselves to leave — to throw themselves straight into the unknown. Devin, too, rose.

But your father was wrenching round to face them, shaking his head. “I’ll take only a couple of you with me. The rest of you should stay here until I send word,” he angled himself towards your table. “Devin, Y/N — you’ll join me.”

“Me?” Your eyes widened. Granted, you didn’t know what, exactly, you’d be facing, but one look at the blood-drenched man at the entrance told you it was bad. You didn’t know nearly enough about fighting, or defending, or healing—

“Yes.” Your father’s tone brooked no room for argument. “You.”

There was no chance to protest as you were yanked out of your seat by Devin and pulled along with him while your father headed out of the door. Your heart raced in your chest as Devin helped you up onto his horse, and you were lurched into action.

All you could think was that you wished — so badly wished — to be back in the safety of the Bluebird Inn. And Azriel’s arms.

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You didn’t travel far. A few dirty, dusty roads brought you straight to a house that was mostly unassuming, no different to the houses in your village.

But the similarities stopped at the first scream that ripped through the night and had you violently flinching, had the horses panicking.

Devin dismounted with ease and promptly lifted you off, setting you on your feet at the exact same moment another scream sounded, thinning out into a strangled sob.

“Come.” Your father beckoned to you as Devin made quick work of tying the horses up.

But you couldn’t get your feet to move. You stayed firmly rooted to the spot as you shook your head. “I can’t go in there.”

“You can and you will,” he beckoned again. “Don’t let me down.”

With him in front of you and Devin now at your back, you felt you had no choice but to follow. The man that had burst into the tavern held the front door open, increasing the volume of what now seemed to be wailing sobs.

“I’ve heard of your cause,” he said quietly as your father stepped in first. “Which is why I think you should see this. So you can report back firsthand to the Queens.”

The entryway was just light enough to catch the incline of your father’s head. He said nothing as you were led through—

You stopped dead in the doorway of what seemed to be a dining room. So abruptly that Devin’s front collided with your back.

“Her name is — was — Dahlia.” The man inched towards the table, balling his fists at his sides. “She was only fourteen years old.”

“What happened?” Those two little words came from you — and you didn’t even realise it.

Because lying motionless on the table was the body of a young girl — from what you could make out beneath the injuries that covered her skin, anyway.

Her pallor was such a deathly white that you knew she was long gone. Her clothes were dirty, ripped…by what looked like claws. Chunks of flesh had been gouged out, her throat cut—

Your ears were ringing too loudly for you to think. But as your heart beat at a gallop, another cry rent the air, stealing your attention to the corner of the room.

“This is Marin,” the man breathed, moving closer to the woman who sat curled up and distraught in the corner. “Dahlia’s mother. She saw the attack with her own eyes.”

“Oh, gods,” you whispered. Devin’s hand landed on your shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze.

Your father took slow, careful footsteps towards the grieving mother. And the softness with which he knelt before her, laying a tentative hand atop of hers…it had your eyes stinging.

“My name is Marschal,” he introduced himself quietly. “I’m so sorry for what those monsters have taken from you. Your beautiful daughter is safe in the Beyond now. The fae can hurt her no more.”

Another soft cry shuddered out of Marin. But she nodded her head and answered, her voice watery, “I know who you are. What…what you do.”

“Then you’ll know why I’ve been brought here. What happened…it’s something I believe our queens should know about,” he paused. “If you’re able, I’d like to know exactly what it was you witnessed. As much as you can manage, of course.”

The request almost made you flinch. It seemed callous, somehow, when her child’s body was still right there on the table and hadn’t yet been sent back to the earth. But after a beat of Marin staring at your father through her tear-filled eyes, she offered the slightest dip of her chin.

“I…” Her voice wobbled. “I’ll try.”

“Devin,” your father murmured over his shoulder. “Fetch her a drink to steady her nerves.”

You were jostled ever so slightly forward as Devin slipped past you — too close to Dahlia’s poor, broken body than you could handle. You turned away, your feet numbly carrying you to Marin’s side. You took her hand into your own, and she didn’t object to the comfort.

In fact, her voice was a little steadier as she said, “It was just me and my Dahlia.” She inhaled slowly through her nose, steeling herself. Her eyes fluttered shut for the briefest second before they opened again. “We were returning home from visiting my sister in another village. It was such a nice night that we decided not to spend coin on transport. The walk was a bit lengthy, but we’d made it before. We knew which way to go.”

The story was momentarily interrupted by Devin re-entering the room and handing a glass of amber liquid to Marin. Her free hand trembled as she took it and lifted it to her lips. Beads of dark liquid coloured her pale lips as she swallowed it down and continued.

“Only, Dahlia insisted on cutting through a forest to look at some plants,” she whispered. “She’s into botany, you see — she was into botany.” A fresh wave of shuddering sobs threatened to overpower her, but somehow, she found the strength to tamp down on them. “So we went into the forest, but Dahlia, she…she had a habit of wandering off, and I got separated from her. It wasn’t for long. But when I found her again, she was with a man.”

Your father repeatedly softly, “A man?”

“I knew at once that it was a faerie. He was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. And Dahlia thought so, too. He was talking to her, and she had this glazed look in her eyes like she was somewhere else. He offered her his hand, and she took it. I knew in my bones that he was going to take her away from me, so I stepped forward, announced myself. I told Dahlia to come, that we were going home. The man answered for her in a voice like music.”

“What did he say?” you rasped.

“He said — he said that Dahlia would make a pretty wife for a faerie. That faerie men liked human brides. He said that she was coming back with him, across the wall. He asked her if she wanted to do that, and she said yes. I think he had her under some sort of spell. I could tell that it wasn’t my Dahlia talking. And I panicked. I stepped forward to grab her out of his arms, and he attacked. Immediately. It was all so quick, I couldn’t register what he was doing. But then he was disappearing before my eyes, and Dahlia was crumpling to the floor, and I knew…I could see she was gone.”

A keening, horrendous wail left her, and she was curling herself up so tightly — like she was trying to hold herself together. It was all you could do to grip onto her hand as she rocked back and forth and cried over and over and over, my Dahlia, my Dahlia, my Dahlia.

You waited for your father to say something else — to come up with an answer as to what might ease her suffering, if anything at all could.

But it was Devin who lowered himself to one knee before her. He placed a hand on her shoulder, his face gentle, open.

“Madam, the last thing I wish to do is cause you any more distress at such an awful time.” He spoke in the calm, sure way that all village guards did. “But I am a guard of the village from which my companions and I hail. Our girls have been suffering attacks at the hands of the fae, also. If, perhaps, you could describe the faerie you saw…who hurt your child…”

“He was beautiful, as I said,” Marin snivelled. “So beautiful, it almost hurt to look at him. Dark hair and golden-brown skin. Eyes that seemed to glow. That beauty made him easy for Dahlia to trust. He seemed kind. His voice was just as stunning as he was.”

“Their beauty,” your father supplied sympathetically, “is a calculated part of their thrall. Do not blame yourself nor your daughter for being allured by it. The fae know what they are doing.”

You did not hear whether the reassurance brought Marin any comfort. You didn’t catch what Devin then said to her, despite you looking right at him, watching his lips move.

Your mind was roaring, ears screaming. You felt…panic.

Their beauty is a calculated part of their thrall.

The fae know what they are doing.

So beautiful, it almost hurt to look at him.

Dark hair and golden-brown skin. Eyes that seemed to glow. He seemed kind. His voice was just as stunning as he was.

Faerie men like human brides.

You felt like you were going to be sick.

Was it so easy to be lured by the mere beauty of the fae?

Was that what Azriel had done to you?

Dahlia’s attacker had seemed nice to her…just as Azriel seemed nice to you.

And Dahlia was now lying lifeless and brutalised just inches away. Allured by a beautiful faerie. Like the other village girls. Like your mother. Like you—

You launched up, nausea turning your stomach. This was too much. If all fae were the same…if all of them were capable of this…

“What is it?” Devin asked. Your father didn’t speak; merely stared at you with an indiscernible expression.

“I need some fresh air, I’m sorry.” Feeling as though you were gasping for breath, you pushed through them, stumbled clumsily past Dahlia’s body and out of the room before they could stop you. You focused on forcing your legs forward, finding your way out of the house. Balmy summer air coaxed you towards it and had you practically falling out of the door.

What had you been thinking, having regular, secret meetings with a faerie who could tear you apart with his bare hands? Inviting him into your village, your home? Allowing yourself to think that he was somehow different? Finding ways to justify your involvement with him?

Azriel may not have been responsible for the attacks himself, but his kind were. You didn’t know him. Didn’t know what he was capable of. For all you were aware, your warming to him had been carefully manipulated by him, by magic. For all you were aware, he could have an extensive list of human girls that he’d softened and lured. He could be using you for something.

You didn’t want to think about what. Didn’t want to know.

What you did know was that you couldn’t see him anymore. Dahlia was some sort of sign that your dealings with the fae had to stop. What you had with Azriel needed to stop—

“It hits a little close to home, doesn’t it?” Your father’s soft voice reached you from the doorway. Amidst your reeling thoughts, you hadn’t heard him follow you out.

You sucked in a huge gulp of fresh air and pivoted to face him. “It does,” you agreed. “I’m sorry if I disappointed you by running out of there.”

He shook his head, took a step closer. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I felt it was necessary for you to see just what a single faerie was capable of. That doesn’t mean I expect you to be unfeeling and unaffected. That sight in there is…it’s terrifying. And gods, if it were you lying on that table—” he cut himself off, swallowing hard. It was a rare thing for him to share such sentiments with you. That was as close as he’d allow himself to get.

So you nodded, letting him know that you got it. He was terrified of you meeting the same fate that poor Dahlia had.

The moment hung between you, thick as the sticky night air. And then you were taking the plunge and asking the question that lived somewhere deep and heavy inside you, trying to claw its way out.

“Was it like that when Mama was attacked?” you studied your father, waiting for him to flinch, grimace, something. “When she was attacked by a faerie, did she…did she look much like Dahlia does?”

A gruesome question, and perhaps an unfair one.

But for the first time in your life, you needed to know — the gory details. How bad it had been.

Your father pursed his lips, staring back at you. For a moment, you thought he might not answer.

But then he shook his head. Shoved his hands into his pockets. He looked…vulnerable.

“No,” he answered, his voice laced with something you couldn’t grasp. “No. There was far less left of your mother after her attack. Nothing of the woman I had loved.”

Before you could answer, he turned and trudged back inside.

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Three weeks in a row.

Three weeks in a damn row, the curtains had remained shut at Y/N’s bedroom window.

Azriel thought his need to see her was starting to eat him alive.

But gods, he missed her. He missed her curiosity, that she did not seem to fear him. Missed that he could lose hours talking to her about everything and nothing. Missed her scent, the taste and feel of her lips—

He heaved a sigh, sprawling back in his bed and running a hand over the panes of his bare stomach. His blood thudded and thrummed in his veins. Burned too hot.

He knew, at least, that she was well, only from the rare glances he caught of her from the sky above the village. Seeing her and not being able to swoop down and speak to her was a whole torture of its own. But if the curtains were closed, that meant it wasn’t safe. The last thing he wanted was to get her into trouble.

Still, that didn’t stop his bones from feeling too hot with need, his heart too heavy—

Another quiet sight escaped him, the pads of his fingers stroking absentmindedly over his abdomen. It felt entirely out his control that his thoughts quickly ventured down the same avenue they’d been walking for three weeks, now. Yet again recalling that conversation he and Y/N had had when he’d last been with her. The broadened confidence that had lain within her actions.

She’d asked him about lovers. She’d kissed him deeply, yearningly, and had he not stopped her, she would have taken it further. He knew she would have — knew it from the way her scent had changed.

Gods, that scent. He was sure it had followed him everywhere these past weeks. It would drive him mad yet. The scent of fresh summer air and sweet, ripe apples. It was perfect, and mouthwatering, and Cauldron boil him, Azriel wanted more. A touch. A taste—

A low noise rumbled in his chest as his cock instantly hardened. This was why it was best to keep his mind occupied. Because as time went on, so too did his growing, strengthening, snowballing attraction for the human woman.

She was likely unaware of what affect she truly had on him.

With only the covers draped over his naked body, the light brush of the fabric against his hardened length was too much. He kicked them away, glancing down at his body’s reaction to the mere thought of Y/N. Nothing to do with him not having had sex for a while now.

All to do with the fact that he wanted Y/N. Badly.

He wrapped a hand around his cock, releasing a hushed moan at the touch. And as his thumb mopped up the precum at the head, and he began to pump slowly, languidly, he closed his eyes and imagined it was her hand that touched him.

That mental image threw the unhurried pace straight out of the window. Fantasies swarmed him as he writhed on the mattress and bit down on his husky, growling moans. Thoughts of Y/N stroking and squeezing and licking him, of her guiding him through his pleasure with filthy words and promises. Watching his length disappear between those perfect, full lips—

A shout shuddered out of him that he was too slow to suppress, his chest heaving as he emptied his cock onto his stomach. The pleasure was too much. He couldn’t think around it, couldn’t see anything but the stars that burst in his vision.

He didn’t know when he’d last cum so fast, so hard.

But somehow, he did know that no other woman, female, whatever, would ever be enough again. Only Y/N. He wanted Y/N.

He needed to find a way to see her.

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Resolving to have nothing more to do with Azriel did not, unfortunately, banish thoughts of him. Nor did it banish the feeling of missing him, missing what you’d grown comfortable with.

It was hard to go from looking forward to weekly rendezvous to just…nothing. No social interaction, besides what you got from behind the bar of the inn. No personal connections.

It was for the best, you told yourself. In the three weeks since you’d been on the road with your father and his men, those images of Dahlia’s broken body had not left your mind. They haunted you as thoroughly as the sounds of Marin’s cries and wails. As thoroughly as those words she’d spoken.

The most beautiful man I’d ever seen.

Azriel was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. And while he may not have been responsible for Dahlia’s attack, or the attacks on the girls in your village…that didn’t mean he wasn’t capable.

The fae were a violent people. There was no getting around that. And you…you could not take that risk. No matter how much your heart yearned to do so, just to feel the touch of Azriel’s hands and hear the smooth lilt of his voice.

He was fae. You were human. It could never work.

So you kept your curtains closed, and you kept yourself busy. You knew Azriel must have wondered what was going on, why you’d been unavailable three weeks in a row. Soon enough, you told yourself, he was bound to get bored and seek connection with somebody else, and your brief brush with the fae would become a bizarre, distant memory.

You hoped.

Perhaps if you chanted it to yourself enough, it would come true.

But gods, you’d become so comfortable with him. Had found what felt like a real, genuine bond with somebody, like nothing you’d been able to experience before. It was no easy thing to return to loneliness, just you and the inn and your piano. Everything was suddenly too dull, too quiet.

At least your father hadn’t asked you to come on the road with him again.

His trips were getting longer, the further he ventured. Two days had stretched to four. You were more alone than ever.

Tonight, when the last of your customers had filed through the door, you were not in the mood to play piano, nor to read a book. Your frame of mind was a tricky one. You felt…restless and misplaced. Tired in your bones and yet wide awake and longing.

You tossed and you turned, kicking your sheets, writhing against your mattress until you were sticky with sweat. You wanted to pull back the curtains and wrench open the window, but…not at this hour. Not while Azriel might still be circling above, searching to see if you were available.

So in the dark, you let the hours tick by, waited for sleep to find you or…some semblance of peace. You listened to each chime of the village’s clock tower, making you aware of every hour you’d lain awake; one o’clock, two o’clock, three o’clock. No passing time made a difference. Restlessness still commanded your body until finally, you’d had enough.

It was nearing four o’clock by the time you threw your sheets off you and stormed out of your bed, exasperated and fed up — by your constant thoughts that would not leave you alone, and how they seemed to control everything. What were you to do without the few hours of oblivion that sleep afforded you?

Was even this some power of the fae…to command your mind and drive you mad with sleeplessness and restlessness until you were losing yourself entirely, becoming an empty shell who lived only to harbour feelings for an ethereal being who saw you as some sort of toy? Was your longing even real, or just the product of magic?

You weren’t sure of anything anymore.

Though still very much night, the darkness had lifted just slightly over the village with another summer morning rapidly approaching. Birds were beginning to wake and sing their songs. It wouldn’t be too long before the milkman ventured through the village with his wagon, leaving bottles at the residents’ doors.

If Azriel had tried to visit, he certainly wouldn’t be around any longer — not with the world waking up.

So you resigned yourself to the fact that you wouldn’t be sleeping. You threw a robe over your nightgown and trudged down the stairs, irritated and ill at ease. You headed straight for the back door, to your small yard that was just as grey and dull as everything else. At least the air would be fresh. Somewhat.

Though tinged with the smells of the countryside, it was nice to feel it wash over you. Cool, in the absence of the sun, and yet not cold. You slumped down onto the wooden bench against the wall and rested your head back, closing your eyes.

How, you wondered, had you been foolish enough to land yourself in such a predicament? How had you gone from being some human, village nobody, to brushing arms with the very beings you’d been raised to despise? It had to be magic that had weaved its way into your mind. Perhaps Azriel hadn’t meant to bewitch you, but he had. Perhaps it was some natural facet of his kind that he had no control over, that you’d fallen victim to. You’d heard stories of the kinds of fae who were love talkers — Gancanagh — whose sole magic was to pour sweetened words into women’s ears and so thoroughly seduce them until they were nothing more than their feelings. Could that be what Azriel was? Could he have—

A thud ripped you from your thoughts so abruptly that you jolted, your eyes flying open.

Just in time to see Azriel jump down from the opposite wall, feet landing smoothly on the cracked concrete ground of the yard.

You stared at him, knocked speechless, for a moment, by the mere sight of him. You couldn’t deny that you’d missed gazing upon his brilliance. The dark leathers and flawless appearance. The shadows.

But you quickly yanked yourself out of it, shaking your head. You would not be bewitched or love-talked or…whatever. Not again.

“It’s so good to see you,” Azriel breathed, cleaving the silence.

But you were up on your feet, still shaking your head, suddenly cold all over. “You can’t be here.”

“I checked the village before I came down,” he stepped closer. “All is fine—”

“No,” you interrupted. “You need to leave.”

He paused, seeming to take his time studying you. His brow furrowed at your guardedness, the way you crossed your arms over your chest and eyed the distance between yourself and the door.

“I don’t understand…” he murmured, taking a step closer. “Where have you been? What’s happened?”

The backs of your legs hit the bench in your attempt to back up. “None of that matters. You just need to stay away from me. Leave, and don’t come back.”

Surprise seemed to steal him so suddenly that it gave you an opening the move. You made to cross your way back to the door, to get yourself inside. Locks were no use against his ability to winnow, but at least you could find a weapon in there, should you need it.

But Azriel was stepping closer just as fast, his warm hand closing around your elbow in a gentle yet firm touch. Gods, you’d missed that touch—

“Don’t,” you snapped, recoiling. “Do not touch me—”

“Y/N, just look at me. Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”

“Why?” Pivoting to face him didn’t ease his grip even a little. “So you can charm me into believing you’re not dangerous?”

A muscle in his jaw ticked, his eyes blazing. “I never claimed not to be dangerous. But I am not a danger to you.”

A brusque, almost hysterical laugh broke from you. “Resorting to faerie riddles? How convenient—”

“Y/N—”

“Let me go.”

This time, when you yanked your arm back, his hand fell. You didn’t wait around to see his reaction as you darted through the door and slammed it shut, locking it with trembling hands.

But when you turned, he was right there in front of you, in your fucking house. You backed yourself up against the door to stop your body colliding with his.

“Get out,” you breathed. “I mean it. Get away from me.”

Slowly, he rose his hands in a placating manner. There was pleading in his tone as he carefully bit out, “I just want to talk to you. Please. Tell me what I’ve done.”

You stared at him, pressing your palms flat against the door. It hurt so, so badly that you wanted to hear him out. Wanted to wipe that crestfallen, devastated expression from his face and hold his hand and talk to him and kiss him—

No, no, no. You shook your head, shook the thoughts away. Azriel watched with wide eyes.

“I am not a danger to you,” he said again, slowly lowering his hands. “But if that’s what you’re worried about…” smooth as a damn waltz, he unsheathed a blade, sharp enough to slice through the sky itself. He gripped the hilt, holding the beautiful weapon out to you. “Take this. It is the only thing I am currently armed with, and if at any point you feel in danger, you have my permission to stab me with it. I just want to talk.”

Your gaze flicked between the blade and his face, unsure and upset. Upset, because you knew that the longer you spent in his presence, spent listening to his voice, the harder it would be to remember the driving force behind your hostility. The harder it would be to convince him to leave and never return.

But perhaps the key to that was not being hostile towards him, but rather, making him hostile towards you. That would be easier. You had never been completely honest with him — about who your father was. Maybe fessing up to the fact that you’d joined him in his campaign would be enough to anger Azriel into leaving.

You jerked your chin at the blade, squaring your shoulders. “Place it on the floor and step away.”

He didn’t hesitate. A shadow snaked out, coiling around the dagger and easing it to the floor with barely a noise. And then Azriel stepped back, and back, and back. Until he was pressed against the wall opposite you.

He didn’t move an inch as you reached for the knife and took it into your hand. The feel of it was weighty and foreign — and beautiful.

“I just want to talk to you,” Azriel said again, his voice gritty. “Tell me what happened. Tell me what…what’s changed.”

You met his eyes, squaring your shoulders as you admitted, “I wasn’t completely honest with you.”

His face showed no reaction. He didn’t even stir. Just stared back at you and spoke clearly, carefully. “Alright. Talk me through that.”

“We once discussed a band of humans who are raising a cause against the fae. Do you remember?”

“I do.”

“I never told you that it is my father who set up the cause. He is the one behind the campaigns. He is the one who takes his men village to village and spreads word of the evil deeds of the fae. He’s behind it all.”

A heavy silence filled the space between you. Azriel stared at you, his expression unreadable. This was the moment he would curse you for keeping the truth from him. The moment he would leave and never look back.

Except, all he did was nod his head once. Like you’d merely offered him a droll comment about the weather.

“Do you not understand what I’m telling you?” you pushed. “I sat up on that hill with you and discussed the matter when I knew the entire time who you were talking about. What they were doing. I deceived you. Kept it from you.”

“There are things you don’t know about me, too,” he answered quietly. “Things that I, for certain reasons, have not told you yet. I would be foolish to assume the same wouldn’t be the case for you,” he stared at you, head-on. Unflinching. “I know better than anybody, Y/N, that you cannot help who or what you come from. I won’t judge you for it, just as I’ve asked you not to judge me.”

Gods, he was so damn reasonable. So much more…worldly and mature, than the human men you knew in the village.

Then again, Azriel had centuries of life on them.

“I’m not angry that you didn’t tell me,” he studied you. “I can understand why you’d be cautious—”

“My father took me on his campaign three weeks ago. Took me on the road with him and his men.”

It was that which seemed to really stop Azriel in his tracks. Something — the slightest thing, a tiny reaction — flared in his eyes. You weren’t sure what it was.

Good. This was good. Maybe now he would get the point, that you and he needed to stop seeing each other.

“Night after night, I sat and listened to what my father had to say. To what he knows,” your hand gripped hard at the knife’s hilt, like it was the only thing grounding you and making you able to speak. “None of it was stuff I hadn’t heard before. I even resented listening to it. I curled myself up in a corner and repeated to myself over and over that whatever was being said, you were not like that. You were not the kind of fae of which my father spoke.”

Azriel’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I am not. Just as I told you.”

“I found it frustrating to hear him tarnish all of your people with the same stories when you had proved to me otherwise. That some fae could be good. That I had been ignorant. And then,” a short laugh rasped out of you, “and then, as if the universe was trying to send me some sort of message, a man came looking for us and said we needed to accompany him somewhere. And we did. My father, a member of his group, and myself. We followed this man to a house in that village, and I knew it was bad from the other end of the street. I could hear the cries coming from within that house, the wailing.”

That information was met with a wall of silence — as though Azriel was biting back his words and waiting for you to finish your story before he would deign to speak. Even if the rigid set of his shoulders told you he desperately wanted to do otherwise.

“There was a girl’s body in that house.” Merely recalling the image of Dahlia had a lump rising in your throat. You silently begged your eyes not to tear up. “The body of a fourteen-year-old girl. A child. A fae male had attacked her, and her poor mother had seen the entire thing.”

Azriel swallowed. “That’s awful—”

“She told us exactly what she saw. Described the faerie to us. How he was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, with dark eyes and golden skin and such a charming demeanour. How her daughter hadn’t stood a chance, because he was already weaving his way into her mind and appealing himself to her. Making her think that he was no threat. Because his beauty, his allure, was above anything else.”

“And…what are you saying?” Azriel asked bleakly. “That you think it was I who attacked that girl—?”

“No, but it was a faerie! It’s always the fucking fae!”

The words left you so angrily, so loudly, that you realised you’d been waiting for someone to yell them at. That they burned inside you, and they hurt. You felt…foolish. Betrayed.

And Azriel appeared to read all of that on your face. He swallowed again, hard, balling his fists at his sides like it took everything in his power to hold himself back and not approach you.

“I never once denied that faeries are capable of such atrocities,” he stared at you. “Not once. I simply asked you to acknowledge that there is good and bad in all people, whatever we are. It’s not as black and white as the fae just being bad.”

“And yet,” your voice was cold, “I haven’t been presented with anything to say otherwise.”

That might have been a low blow. You were guessing it was, from the way Azriel physically flinched, before schooling his features.

Because he…he was evidence of good, wasn’t he? He certainly had been, before the situation with poor Dahlia. He’d shown you that he was tender and soft, patient and kind. It had been enough for a while.

But you had more or less just said that it had never been enough at all. And that seemed to bother him more than anything else.

“You and I are worlds apart,” you added, sounding weaker. “Whatever or whoever you are…we simply have no business getting involved with one another.”

“That’s bullshit.” In a flash, Azriel was pushing off the wall. He strode forward a couple of steps, before thinking better of it and stopping in his tracks. Ferocity turned his golden skin a ruddy hue. “I don’t care what sides of the wall either of us fall on. What matters is that I feel right around you. I feel alive because of you. If we have no business getting involved, tell me why I cannot sleep for having constant thoughts about you. Tell me why you have consumed me as though you have bewitched me.”

You blinked, almost — almost — wanting to laugh. The description was one you absolutely had fitted to him. To consider that he’d come to the same conclusion about you—

“I swear to you that I have never used any sort of faerie sway to appeal myself to you,” he continued. “What we feel for one another is genuine. I keep coming back to you because I ache for you. And I don’t judge you one bit for thinking badly of my kind — especially after what you saw on your father’s trip. It’s awful, and I abhor what was done to that girl. But I beg of you, Y/N — please. Do not paint me in the same light.”

Each word pelted you like hailstones, the impact of them sending a shiver coursing down your spine. So quickly, your body wanted to falter, to fold, to go marching over to him. It took every shred of effort to stand your ground and grip onto the knife as though your life depended on it.

“I’m not trying to invalidate what you’ve seen, what you’ve experienced.” Azriel took another slight step forward. “I would never. I just…I ask you to give me one more chance to prove that there is another side to the coin. That good can exist as well as bad.”

You pointed the blade towards him, stopping him in his tracks. But you lifted your chin as you asked, “How? How would you prove that? I don’t want any faerie trickery.”

“And there would be none. I want to show you…for you to see with your own eyes…”

“…see what?”

“The good that I know. The good that I live amongst.” Pleading lay within his eyes. “Just give me one more night. One more night of your time to take you into my world. To show you more of myself. And if you still want nothing more to do with me…” Slowly, he shook his head, as though he could hardly bear the thought. “Then I will find a way to accept it, and you will never have to see me again.”

You shook — trembled — with the effort to rein yourself in. You didn’t understand this carnal…thing, deep inside you, that was drawing you to him. Like a thread in your body, connected to one in his, begging you to close the gap and go to him.

You rocked on your feet, eyeing him with none of the anger you’d felt moments before, and all of the caution at how he so often made you feel. Like you wanted to be in front of him. To touch him.

“I don’t…understand what you’re suggesting,” you said slowly.

Azriel took a single, tiny step closer. You didn’t stop him. “Let me take you across The Wall for one night. A few hours, if that’s all you’re willing to give. To my city, my home. Let me introduce you to my family. To everyone and everything that reminds me how much good exists amongst my kind, even when I sometimes doubt it myself.”

“Across The Wall—?”

“It would be entirely safe.” Another step, closing that gap between you. “I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. And if we get there and you don’t even want to talk to me, you don’t have to. I just…I just want you to see. You deserve to see the good.”

So many feelings warred inside you at once. Intrigue, curiosity, fear — such raging fear. Excitement. Maybe…maybe a little bit of hope.

Hope that you could still be proved wrong. Because you still wanted to be proved wrong.

You didn’t want to let Azriel go.

Swallowing hard, your eyes shuttered. What he was asking of you was huge, and that wasn’t even considering the logistics of how you would do it. “I don’t…know if I could.”

With another step, Azriel was close enough to touch. The familiar scent of him was almost enough, alone, for you to fold. The hand that held the blade lowered entirely without your willing.

“Why don’t you take the day to think about it?” Hazel eyes were a long-awaited caress against your face. “Your father is away for another night yet, isn’t he?”

Your gaze clashed with his abruptly. “How do you know that?”

Quickly, he held his hands up. “Just going by the pattern of his previous trips, that’s all. He doesn’t usually return until the weekend.”

Right. Perhaps you were being a little bit paranoid. You forced yourself to relax a little.

“Yes,” you concurred. “He’s away for another night.”

Azriel’s chin dipped. “So…how about this? You take the day to think my offer over. If you decide you want to accept and come with me, I’ll be waiting for you above. At midnight, on the dot. If you decide you don’t, and you do not want anything else to do with me…well, like I said, I’ll find a way to accept it somehow.”

You knew your resolve was already slipping, leaning more towards what felt right, rather than…that what you’d been raised to believe was right.

And it wasn’t as though it was an unreasonable offer. You believed that Azriel could keep you safe either side of The Wall. Your wellbeing wasn’t what concerned you in the slightest.

You supposed that it was that if you were to go along with this…there would likely be no turning back. You’d so far merely dipped your toe into the world of the fae.

Crossing The Wall would be like submerging yourself in it.

“Take the day to think about it,” Azriel said again, studying you closely. “All I ask is that you do think about it…properly. Don’t just…don’t just write me off. Please, Y/N. I couldn’t bear it.”

Something in his voice smothered that last shred of doubt that tried to hold you back. Your own voice was quiet as you replied, “Alright. I’ll think about it.”

In front of you, his shoulders seemed to slump with something like relief. Pleading still lay within his eyes. You weren’t sure, in that moment, if you could handle staring back at it.

So you instead held the knife out to him, ripping your gaze away. “You can have this back.”

“Don’t want to stab me?” he said, and your lips threatened to quirk up. You forced the smile away as he took the weapon back and sheathed it.

“I’ve yet to decide. I’ll spend the day contemplating that, too.”

So easy, to fall back into the natural rapport you had with him. Azriel didn’t bother to bite down on his smile.

But the smile then faltered, and worry clouded his eyes. “I really do hope you’ll give me another chance.”

“Why?” you blurted. “Why me?”

For a moment, he didn’t respond. And then he stepped away from you. Something in his stance told you he was readying himself to disappear.

“I’ll tell you why, if you come across the wall with me,” he said, his eyes meeting yours. “I want to be transparent with you. But I have to protect my heart, too.”

“You—”

“Just think on it,” he spoke softer, gentler. “And get some sleep, Y/N.”

Before you could respond, a breeze rippled through the room, tinged with the smells of winter.

And just like that, you were alone.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

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sugawhaaa · 3 months

Text

MINGI X READER 🏁

💧going fast isn't always physical💧

Warnings::SMUT/ smut ns/fw scenes are marked by a dotted red line (like always)

Pairing:: racer!dom!Mingi x referee!fem!sub!reader

Genre:: Racer AU, car sex, oral [f/m rec] praise, teasing, gagging, hair pulling

Word count::4, 095

A/N:: omfg Tumblr uploaded this AGAIN without me telling it to. Just boom its here now and I am so so so so so so sorry that this will now be three parts. Again I am so so so so sorry all my fanfics are becoming multiple parts bc of this stupid Tumblr glitch and I am going to try and stop this from happening again in the future 🙏 I hope you understand

Part 1:: here

🎧::

"So why did you bring me out here?” You ask softly and he looks down, feeling almost ashamed.

“I just…” he bites his lip. “I wanted to get to know you. Just hang out a bit, until you finish your ice cream then I promise I'll bring you home,” he looks at you with guilty eyes. You knew why he was doing this now, he needed you but couldn't say it.

“That's fine,” you shrug and eat your treat, looking off into the distance at the moon. “You should give me your number,” you say as you pull your phone out of your purse.

“Sure, let me punch it in,” he smiles as he takes your phone. He types in a few numbers, pauses, and continues.

“Did you forget your number?” You chuckle and he laughs.

“Yes, it's been a while and I'm flustered,” he laughed as he sent himself a message through your phone, making sure it worked. There was a ding from his phone and he picked it up, seeing the message went through.

“We should take a selfie to put as your profile pic on my contacts,” you smile and he nods. You hold up your camera and he leans in. The two of you hold up your ice cream. The lighting is pretty bad. Mingis fancy car lights made it a bit better but it was still bad. You took the photo and instantly went to look at it. Mingi leaned in over your shoulder to see the photo.

“Ah, you look so cute,” he squeezes your shoulder and you laugh with pink cheeks. He watches as you put it as his profile pic before asking you to send it to him. He uses the photo as your contact profile picture, cropping himself out of it slightly. He types in your name, putting a heart emoji by it.

-Y/N 💕

He smiles and you peer over his shoulder. He blushes and pulls his phone away. Not a word to be spoken due to his pure embarrassment. You look down at your phone and type in his name.

-Mingi 💕

You smile at him and his heart skips about a thousand beats.

“Now we match,” you chuckle but Mingi is still left in a daze, entranced by your beauty while you look down at your phone. He doesn't speak or take his eyes off you. He extends his hand out to you aimlessly. He doesn't know where he's reaching, he just wants to feel you. He brushes back your hair to see your face and you look up at him. Your remaining hair framing your face. You look him up and down, searching for his intent. He swallows his last bit of ice cream as he stares into your eyes. “Mingi?” You call out his name hoping he'd explain himself.

“I'm sorry,” he apologizes but he doesn't take his hands off of you. His fingers trail down the side of your face, resting at your chin.

“For what?” You ask softly and Mingi sighs.

“I'm pushing you, too fast,” he explains and you look confused. “You only met me today,” his eyes softened, despair filling them. “I've loved you for so long, admiring you from afar,” he sighs and retreats his hand from your face.

“What?” You look at him surprised. He looked down at the wheel of his car with an expression that couldn't be described with descriptive words. It was sorrow, it was anger, it was disappointment, and surely none of which were targeted at you. His expression could only be described as “I'm so ashamed of myself,”. He didn't have to say it, you could hear it through his eyes. “Hey, hey, listen,” you put your hand on his shoulder comfortingly and he turned to you again. “If there's something you want to talk about or say just say it,” you rub his shoulder softly, moving more towards his back. Mingi groans as he tries to get his thoughts collected and turn them into words.

“At the library, I've seen you working there a few times and I could never take my eyes off of you,” Mingi bites on the inner side of his lip as he stares down at the wheel. “I wanted to talk to you, ask you out, tell you how beautiful you were but I could never bring myself to even make eye contact with you,” he explains and you nod softly.

“I understand Mingi,” you rub his back again before bringing your hand up, tucking stray hairs behind his ear. “To be honest, when I first had to wake you at the library I thought you were so…everything,” you laugh and he looks up at you, hoping to catch a glimpse of your pure smile. “I thought you were cute, hot, handsome, attractive, all at the same time. I was confused because I hadn't even learned your name yet, somehow, I felt head over heels,” you finish your explanation and Mingi turns to you, surprised by the use of the expression “head over heels,”

“You think I'm…attractive?” He blushes, unable to hide the fact he's all giddy inside. You nod and he's at a loss for words. He bites his lip softly before leaning back in his seat, letting out a groan. “Fuck, you do things to me Y/N,” he chuckles with little grin that was nearing a smirk.

“I'd love to do more to you,” you lean closer to him and he turns his head slightly, raising a brow. You extend your hand out to hold his hand that's resting on his thigh but you hesitate.

“Care to elaborate on that princess?” He smirks as he looks back at you. You blush seeing the state he's in. His eyes are tired but full of lustful energy, his hair messily falling forward, his body relaxed against the back of his seat.

“No,” you look away from him again and he laughs. Now he leans towards you, his hand on the edge of the bottom of your seat, his fingertips inches from your thigh.

“People don't like being called out when they start acting reckless hm?” He says in a low seductive voice that has your skin crawling. You snap your head back to look at him, surprised by the way he effortlessly read you like a book. “Cat got your tongue? Usually you're one to snap back at people, at least from what I've seen,” he smirks as his voice lingers with lustful intent.

“I don't know how you want me to reply to that statement,” you cross your arms and he gets a kick out of your reaction. He laughs to himself, moving his hand back.

“Tell me, what more do you want to do to me?” He repeats and you blush, feeling trapped in his little scheme. In all honesty you wanted to pin him down to his seat and give him the most head spinning oral he's ever received but you wouldn't dare say it. Especially not when he's got you drawn into a corner like this. “If you tell me, who says your dreams won't come true,” he leans in closer, his words dropping to whispers as he closes in on your ear. “Or should I say, your fantasies?”

You bite your lip as his breath inches down your neck, lighting your skin aflame. The heat seems to instantly travel between your thighs. You let out a huff and straighten your posture.

“Well what I was really thinking was, earlier when you were showing me the features of your car you showed me the lights that change color in the back,” you explain and he raises a brow, intrigued by where your words are headed. “And I couldn't help but notice…” you look at the buttons on the car. You turn the back lights on and rotate a small notch, the lights changing color as you move it. You land upon the red, the red hue lighting up the back of the car and give him a knowing look. Mingi looks surprised before smirking.

“You're dirty,” he chuckled. “So that's what you're really thinking?” He tilts his head and you lean closer to him, your lips just centimeters apart.

“Yes,” you look up at him desperately and he runs a hand through your hair. You then seal the distance between your lips. His lips were much softer than you anticipated. They were tender and plush, but his skills were none of the sort. His hand gently held the side of your face as his tongue crept between your lips, rolling over your tongue. He definitely wasn't afraid to show you who had charge in the situation. His other hand slid down to your waist, caressing the dip in your body. You felt completely held under his will, but you were here for it. He pulled back from your lips looking down at you, your lipstick smeared.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Get in the back,” he smirked and gave your hips a little lift, encouraging you forward. You crawled into the back of his car where the dim red lights illuminated. You sat against the back seat as Mingi crawled back with you. He gently pushed you back against the seat as his lips pieced to yours. You brought your hands up to his fiery hair, twirling strands around your fingers or gripping it in a fist as his tongue explored your mouth. His hands mainly rested on your hips or waist but as the kiss started escalating his hands crawled up your body.

Your leather jacket fell off your shoulder as you shifted beneath him, your upper back now pressed beneath the window. Mingi dipped his head down to your neck, leaving little marks along your skin while his right hand crept up to your breast. He cupped it softly before rubbing his thumb along the surface of it, searching for the bud. You jumped slightly as his thumb hit your hardened bud. He smirked and let the skin from between his teeth out. He slowly pulled the jacket off your body, letting it fall to the floor of his car.

Things were moving so fast between the two of you. Only just a few hours ago you were waking up this stranger at the library and now you were making out in the back of his car. You knew this was reckless, falling for a man you just met but you couldn't resist him. He was gentle, kind, and sweet but he was also protective and wasn't afraid to say what's on his mind. Not to mention he was absolutely beautiful. His hair was dense and beautifully textured, the bright colors drew you in like a moth to light. His eyes were always pure and full of life, his skin always soft and smooth. His skin felt like silk to the touch and his hands were heavy, holding a bit more roughness than the rest of his body. His hands still held cautious and gentleness. His smile was bright enough to light up your life. He may be a racer and he may be doing illegal things every other night but he had a pure heart.

Mingi's hand trailed up your arm, feeling the newly exposed skin. You put your hands up to his chest and he freezes his actions. “Do you want me to stop?” He asked with a sympathetic gaze. You chuckle as you shake your head.

“No, I just wanted to feel your body,” you admit with a little hint of embarrassment. Mingi's face flushes and he swallows hard.

“Oh sorry, sure go ahead,” he smiles with a nod and he resumes stroking your body. His thumb rubbing on your erect nipple through your top as you trail your hands down his chest. Truth be told, he had a very delectable body. He was muscular, his pecs standing out in his tight fitted shirt but as your hands traveled down his waist thinned but the muscles never softened. This was the beginning of a true night to remember, starting with exploring each other's bodies. Words didn't need to be said, the touches alone said everything.

Mingis thumb stopped attacking your sensitive nub and moved to your exposed skin. He traced his hands down your bare skin, the physical contact sending waves of goose bumps up your body. You bite your lip as your hands travel to his back, his muscles still prominent there as well. His fingers graze along the top of your skirt, his index finger tapping the button.

“Princess,” he says softly and you look up at him, making direct eye contact for what felt like an eternity. He leans down and kisses your stomach gently before looking up at you with puppy eyes. You have to hold in your laughter at his adorable expression. “I never got to tell you all the things I wanted to do to you,” he smirks. “I wanna make you feel loved, I want to cherish every single part of your body,” he caresses your face softly as he speaks in a creamy tone. “I want to take your pleasure to new heights, I want to hear you scream my name and plead for more,” Mingi hisses, his eyes begging for your consent. You brush your fingers through his hair. “I know we're moving fast but…I've always been the type I guy to go at a fast pace,” he sighs, trying to ignore the fact your leg is pressing right against his boner. You put a finger to his lips, shutting him up.

“I've heard everything I need to. You can do whatever you want to me,” you smile at him lustfully and you see the sparkle appear in his eyes.

“That's dangerous baby, everything I want,” he chuckles before unbuttoning your skirt, arousal filling the small space of his car. He simultaneously pulls down your panties with the skirt, finally freeing your aching core. He holds your hips steadily as he leans down his lips parted. He tests the waters by dipping his tongue to your clit, experimentally licking it. You jump lightly at the long awaited contact, biting your knuckle as you do so. He looks up at you through hooded eyes that makes your eyes roll back as he uses little kitten licks on your clit.

“Stop teasing me,” you whine as you toss your head back, your right hand now tangled in your hair while your left hand squeezes one of your tits. Mingi grins before sitting up again.

“You said I could do whatever I wanted to you, and I want to tease you until you're begging for me,” he smirked and you scowled at him. If he wanted you to beg, you were going to BEG.

"Please Mingi, I'm serious,” you look up at him with pleading eyes.

“Please what? Use your words princess,” he smirks as he traces his thumb across your lower lip, his other arm pressed against your waist, his hand gripping the bottom of the seat.

“Please…” you hesitated, trying to find the words to use. You didn't want to sound like a desperate whore but you always needed him to eat you out until you saw stars. “Fuck me with your tongue,” you throw your head back and he smiles, retreating his hand from your lips. Okay maybe you sounded a bit more desperate than you meant to but at least now Mingi understands how much you physically need him right now.

He leans down to your aching pussy lips with a smirk. He holds your thighs open as his mouth covers your folds, warming them with his mouth. The feeling alone could make you cum, your hips bucking into his jaw. He chuckles lowly, his deep voice vibrating your core. He then runs his tongue up all of your folds, from the entrance to your clit. You whimper and grab his fiery hair. He moves his head as he takes long licks, the tip of his nose rubbing against your clit as he did so. You felt your thighs jitter at the pleasure, threatening to close and lock around his head. You held yourself back, refraining to just arching your back but Mingi started rolling his tongue in circles and swaying his head back and forth creating double stimulation.

You gasp loudly and you notice the smirk creep onto his face. In all honesty you were nearing your orgasm already but you wanted to prove to Mingi you could hold on. Mingi though, could feel your walls convulsing under his lips and taste the impending release. He clenched your hips harder and pulled them to his face, forcing you to take the stimulation. You couldn't squirm away anymore. He brought his hand down to your entrance and started gently teasing the little slit with the tip of his ring finger. It was enough to send Shockwaves of pleasure up your body. You couldn't hold back anymore. You clenched his hair in a tight fist as your moans pitched.

“M-Mingi I'm gonna cum,” you whimper out and Mingi smirks one last time before assaulting your pussy lips with his tongue. His tongue relentlessly lapping at your juices as his nose pressed against your clit, his finger still teasing your slit. You jumped from the sudden jolt of energy from him before unraveling beneath him. Your hips jitter as they rutt into his face, your sweet release dripping onto his finger.

He pulls back and pushes his finger inside you. You jump at the sudden intrusion, lunging forward. “M-Mingi!?” You gasp out and he laughs, fingering you as he does so. You put your head on his shoulder as he toys with you. You were already so sensitive from that unimaginable orgasm and here he was bringing you to the edge again. You clench his hair in a fist again as tears of pleasure build in your eyes. “I'm gonna cum again,” you stutter out and mingi grins.

“I know baby~ I can feel your walls clenching around my finger,” he chuckles into your ear and that just about does it. You spill out under him again before falling limp in his arms. He pulls his finger out if you and he catches you slightly as you pant. “You did good, so good,” he showers you in wet kisses as he lets you rest. He runs his fingers through your hair, calming you down from the rush. “Do you need a break?” He asks as you rest on the back of the seats. You shake your head and Mingi tilts his head.

In truth, you did need a break. Even if it was a few minutes but you were afraid that this intimate experience might end.

“I'm fine,” you pant out with a wave of your hand.

“Here let me give you a drink at least,” he opens a drawer from underneath the car seat and brings out a plastic water bottle for you. You look at him surprised as he opens the cap. He sits next to you and holds your jaw gently, tipping your head back. “Open~” he smiles and you do as he says. The cold water soothes your throat and rejuvenates you for another round of excitement. He puts the cap back on before setting the water bottle in a cup holder up front. He smiles at you warmly as he lays back against the seat with you. “Do you want to keep moving forward or leave it at this?”

Your attention instantly snaps back to him. You lean in, basically crawl on him, as he looks around awkwardly. Blush creeps up from his neck as your hands roam over his body. He looks between your breasts to your crotch, back and forth. “I'm not done with you just yet,” you grin as a string of cum drips from your pussy to his bulge straining on his pants. He throws his head back with a moan. You grin and move down to your knees, undoing his pants. He's taken aback by your sudden advance but as the cold air hits his erection all his worries melt away.

“Alright pretty girl,” he laughs as his head tosses back again. “Just be gentle with me,” he chuckles in a mocking tone. As his cock finally springs free, your eyes widen. He was long and thick with a silky smooth shaft coated in precum, his tip basically glowing red. Mingi waits patiently for you to take in the sight of him but his desire peeks through. His cock twitches upward as you stare at him. He chuckles softly as his arms lengthen out to the other two seats, grabbing the headrests to stabilize himself. “Take your time,” he groans out but in reality he wanted to shove his cock in your mouth, push it down your throat and listen to you gag, but he refrained.

You gently start to rub his cock, getting him warmed up to your touch. He was definitely living for the contact. His hips arch up into your palm. You finally decide to lower your head and take his tip into your mouth, just the tip. As he feels the damp cavern of your mouth take his tip his head lunges forward with a hiss. “That's it, good girl,” he groans and his praise only drives you further into insanity. His hands slowly travel down from the seats to you, holding the hair out of your face as you take him deeper. “Oh fuck yes, so good baby,” he groans as his grasp on your hair gets a little firmer. You hum in satisfaction which makes his cock vibrate. He moans and arches his hips up. “Sorry baby, I can't hold myself back,” he groans and tosses his head back as you bob on his length.

You felt his dick twitching in your mouth. It was clear he felt close but he must've had a similar mindset to you. “I want to prove to her that I can last,” is what you assumed so naturally you increased everything. The pressure of your sucking, depth, and speed. He moaned loudly and grabbed your head.

“Fuck baby! I'm gonna cum,” he groaned and shoved your head down, shoving his full length into your mouth. His hot seed filled your mouth, coming out in thick creamy waves. You gag on his length and hit his thigh, trying to tell him you needed to stop. He lifts your head off of him and you cough, cum and drool dripping down your mouth. “Sorry princess,” he leans down to your level before kissing your forehead. “You were just so cute, I couldn't hold back,” he explains as he rubs your back.

“It's okay,” you nod and Mingi smiles fondly at you. He brushes your hair back before kissing your forehead again.

“You did so good,” he grins before lifting you up by your hips. “And now, I'm going to fuck you so hard,” he smirks as he lays your down. He takes off his shirt and throws it somewhere in the car. “It's your reward for being such a good girl,” he smirks. “How do you want me to fuck you? Into the back seats, or maybe you'd like doggy style~?” He plays with a few strands of your hair. “Or do you want to try every position we can in this car~?” He smirks and you look up at him, surprised.

You nod shyly and his smirk turns into a devilish grin. “Oh you're a dirty girl aren't you?” He says before picking you up again, laying you against the back seats. “If you need me to stop or need some more water just ask alight princess?” He confirms as he pumps his cock a few times, preparing it for the events to come. He teases you for a while, slapping your clit with his cock and running his tip up your folds. He then reaches behind him to the backside of the front seat. He pulls out a condom and holds it between his teeth before ripping it open. Sliding the lubed ring around his cock. Once he has it fully on he lines back up to your entrance again. “Ready?” He asks and you nod with a content hum.

“Go slow,” you remind him and he nods. He slowly begins to push into you. You feel his tip alone stretching you out, his girth is unimaginable and you can't wait for it to be pumping into you.

#Spotify #ateez mingi #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez hard hours #ateez hard thoughts #ateez smut #ateez fic #ateez #song mingi #mingi x reader #mingi smut #mingi

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iloveboysinred · 5 months

Note

I need some fluffy megumi hcs 😌 can you write how he would act as a boyfriend?? I love your work ❤️ also, can i claim the 🐦‍🔥 emoji for your anon list??

Ummm of course!!!! Thank you for reading my works ❤️ it means the world, really! Welcome to the list pheonix anon 💕

Masterlist

Cw; pg 13, fluffy megumi, boyfriend megumi being a dork.

- megumi is definitely the kind of boyfriend that goes along with any silly hobby you pick up.

- like when you went to that crocheting class together. He had no idea what was going on but happily watched you make little crochet animals. He keeps the little divine dog figures you made for him in his room and close to his heart. He cherishes your little quirks and gifts no matter how small.

- takes pictures of you whenever he gets the chance. Megumi has a whole photo album dedicated to pictures he’s taken of you on dates, pictures of you laying around the house. You just look so beautiful all the time. When he’s away on missions and needs the extra motivation he’ll look at the pictures he took, warming his heart and filling him with courage.

- Megumi is 100% a crash dummy. Anybody that looks at you or touches you less than respectfully irritates him. He always gets ready to square up, he doesnt care how big of a scene he’s making. He doesnt play bout you.

- goes along on any shopping trips you go on and carries all your bags

- cooks for you and keeps your apartment looking tidy whenever he comes over, so that when you come home from work you can just relax and embrace each other.

- loves when you play in his hair and tell him about your day. Despite being a dog person his personality mirrors a cat. He’ll lean into your touch, and you swear he would be purring if he could.

- he does skincare with you, lets you put all kinds of face masks on him. Sometimes he even falls asleep under your gentle care.

- super soft spoken with you, and so patient when you have an attitude or having a bad day.

- wouldn’t admit to it but he adopted Gojo’s habit of bringing you home souvenirs and gifts from his missions.

- hates leaving you alone, he always leaves you with one of his dogs when he has to be away for long. He knows the dangers of being a sorcerer. He would never forgive himself if something happened to you.

- confides in you about his troubles and frustrations. Around you he feels safe, and is able to express himself freely without care.

- insists on you guys going to this local cafe he always used to go to before he met you.

- hand feeds you pieces of his croissant, insisting you try it with your coffee.

- super cuddly when you guys are alone, but in public he prefers to keep it lowkey.

- pecks, hand holding, playing footsies, his favorite thing to do is link pinkies with you as you walk.

- recommends books to you, sometimes even reading them aloud to help you fall asleep.

- overall a very attentive boyfriend. He makes sure you have everything you need, using Gojo’s card whenever you want something (the Gojo effect).

I love Megumi so much yawll dont understaaaand. Hopefully you enjoyed this anon! :> notes and reblogs are appreciated. Comments, asks, and submissions are welcomed 💗

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk megumi #megumi fluff #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi x you #megumi x y/n #❥iloveboysinred #{anonask ੈ✩‧₊˚ ฅ^. .^ฅ}#˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚{𝕞𝕪 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕪} ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year

Note

Hi, babe! Can I please request something with soft dark!Jennifer where she and reader are not official (although madly in love) and get distant, until Jennifer sees her with someone else and is like "not on my watch 🤨"? Reader loves her too but she's an insecure bean and thinks Jennifer is out of her league, hence why she goes after other people. 💕💕

hi baby! I hope you like it! thank you for requesting this!

summary - jennifer doesn't like others touching what's hers.

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

Jennifer was seething. How dare you smile at someone who wasn’t her. How dare you let this person touch you. You were hers. Was this why you haven’t spoken to her in so long? Because you were too caught up in someone else? You had been ignoring her recently, becoming more distant even though you both had confessed your love for each other. She rolled her eyes. She knew she should’ve made it official with you. Of course, your pretty little head couldn’t understand you were hers, even without the dumb title.

She made her way over, her hips swaying with each step. Your head turned in her direction at the sound of her heels clicking. She smirked when your eyes widened, mouthing ‘hey baby’ before she appeared before you, eyeing the person who dared to be in your presence. “Hi, sugar. Who’s your friend?” Your eyes fall to her lips as they fall into a deadly smile, feeling yourself become putty at how gorgeous she is.

“U–um… This is…” Your mouth opens and closes, slowly blinking as you become lost in her eyes. Your heart nearly pounds out of your chest, forgetting about the person next to you until they clear their throat, awkwardly saying their goodbye’s before quickly rushing off.

She leans forward, cupping your chin in her perfectly manicured hand and stares into your eyes. “Whatcha doing with them, baby? Don’t you know your mine?” Her eyes flicker between yours and your plump lips, “Hmm?” She pouts before smirking. “I’ve been worried, my little sugarplum. You’ve been avoiding me.” You blink more, staring into her pretty eyes. Jennifer’s thumb strokes your cheek. “Answer me, baby.”

“I–uh…” You gulp, feeling your heart race as you smell her sweet vanilla scent and the cherry lollipop she had recently been sucking on, wishing you could taste it from her tongue. “W–why do you care so much… It’s not like I’m your type. I’m just… Me.” You pout, shivering as she glares down at you.

She pouts, her hand moving down to grip your throat softly. “Why wouldn’t I care, baby? Don’t you realise how much I care for you? You’re so sweet and pretty and all mine.” She whispers, leaning closer and pressing a sweet kiss on your plump, pouted lips. “Always taste like strawberries.” She hums, licking her lips.

You whimper, leaning into her touch as your eyes begin to flutter. “B–but you’re out of my league….”

Jennifer giggles, her other hand coming down and resting on your hip. “No, I’m not, baby girl. We’re in the same league. The prettiest of the bunch.” Her hand returns to cupping your cheek, nodding your head along with hers. “Yes, we are, baby. So pretty and soft. I love you so much.”

You whine. “I love you too.”

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year

Note

Oh to be a fly next to Daniel when he received the news about her pregnancy

His Best Man || DR3 {Daniel’s Reaction}

A/N: quick 700 words written on my phone 💕 F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Daniel’s Reaction

Daniel wouldn’t normally have his phone with him when he was meant to be listening to the debrief. His entire concentration should have been on the technicians reading the data from the free practice he had just completed. But since you hadn’t been feeling the best you decided to stay home instead of going to the paddock, and it had left him feeling a little unsettled. He missed your company.

Like a teenager in class, he had his phone on his lap hidden under the table and the moment it lit up he snatched it. His thumb froze over the green icon as his brain registered the name on the screen wasn’t yours.

“Excuse me, guys, I need to take this,” he interrupted as he abruptly stood up and left the room. He and James hadn’t spoken since the phone call in Portland nearly two months ago and if the biometric monitor was still attached from the practice it would have caught the sudden spike in his heart rate.

For a second Daniel thought about letting the call go to voicemail but he wasn’t a coward, so he took a deep breath and answered the call. “Hello, mate, it’s been a while,” he greeted with a confidence he didn’t feel.

Immediately James’ laugh set him on edge and he closed the door to his driver room since there were still a lot of people loitering around. “Tends to happen when you fuck someone’s wife.”

“Ex-wife, which tends to happen when you’re a cheating piece of shit,” Daniel shot back.

“Hmm, I don’t remember signing any court documents.”

Daniel was usually patient by nature but his patience for this man had run out on the side of a highway in Perth. “Why did you call me, James?”

“I just thought we could celebrate the wonderful news together, since my wife is pregnant. I’m assuming you’re the father but considering she’s a whore, who knows?”

“Shut your fucking mouth, James,” Daniel growled as his hands threatened to crush the phone with the grip he had. “You don’t talk about her like that, ever, you understand!”

“That she’s a whore or that she’s pregnant? Because both are true.”

“You’re a fucking liar, and she can’t have kids, she already told me.”

James’ laugh sent Daniel’s stomach dropping and a cold fissure running down his spine. “Who's the liar now…”

The phone went dead before he could respond and he stared at his phone as it returned to his home screen. The image was one of his favourites, though every photo of you was technically a favourite, this one was perfect. You weren’t even paying attention to the camera as he snapped the shot, all of your focus was on the tiny joey cradled in your arms as you bottle fed it.

He already knew about your fertility struggles, it was no secret, but it was clear you would have been a great mother had you been given the chance. It was why he was struggling so much to digest James’ words. You wouldn’t have lied about that, he couldn’t believe it.

Needing the reassurance only you could provide, he tied the arms of his race suit around his waist and started to run. It wasn’t far to his apartment block from the paddock but it felt longer as he sprinted full pelt through the busy streets.

Daniel hadn’t even thought to bring his keys and after a few attempts at knocking loudly he went back to the front desk to borrow a spare one. The knots in his stomach had twisted into a noose by the time he unlocked the door and walked into the silent apartment.

Sweat beaded on his forehead and ran down his spine as he heard a soft sob come from the bathroom. The sound penetrated his heart and spurred him to close the distance in a mad dash to fix whatever had caused you pain but he never expected to find you the way he did. Pregnancy tests littered the floor, three bold plus signs staring him in the face as he stumbled back against the wall and let it take his weight and he slid down to the floor.

“You said you couldn’t have kids.”

#his best man #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x y/n #daniel riccardo x reader #ollie answers #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #daniel ricciardo imagine #f1 fic

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muwapsturniolo · 7 months

Text

✯Kill Bill✯

Summary: Y/n can’t bare to see Matt with anyone else

Warning: VERY HEAVY SUBJECTS ARE TALKED ABOUT!!! PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN ADVISORY!! talks about mental health, murder, guns, knives, trespassing, death, suicide. IF I FORGOT ANYTHING PLEASE LET ME KNOW!!!

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

The faint humming of the flickering fluorescent lights clouds Y/n's ears as she shuffles through the supermarket. Her feet drag across the dirty tiles, her body movements sluggish. The smell of vegetables and meat filling up her nose as she walks.

"flour, eggs, milk. flour eggs milk." She chants to herself, her lips barely moving. As she walks towards the baking aisle, basket in hand, she sees a bundle of pink in her peripheral. She turns and her breath hitches.

A boquet of pink roses.

She stares at them, her mind swarming with the endless memories she's had with them. Her body stands motionless, the tunnel vision taking over.

“I got you these!”

“I’ve never received flowers before!”

Crash

“Shit, I’m so so-Y/n?” She’s snapped out of her thoughts by a voice that has haunted her for the past year now. She turns and sees her ex in full glory.

Matt.

She says nothing to him, the words that want to fall from her mouth getting stuck in her throat, choking her. He looks her up and down, noticing how beat she looks. Her eye bags are prominent, a clear indication she hasn’t slept in who knows how long. Her skin is dull, a vast contrast to how radiant she used to be. Her clothes are different as well, a pair of sweats and some crewneck that has bleach stains on it.

She doesn’t look ok.

“Hey…” She manages to mumbles out. He does his best to give her a genuine smile, but it’s more awkward than anything. They haven’t spoken since a week after the breakup, the last text being Matt telling her to leave him alone and go do something with her life.

“How are you?” He questions, not really knowing how to carry on with the conversation. He didn't plan on seeing her ever again.

“Fine…”

That’s a lie. She’s not fine.

She hasn’t been fine since the day he broke up with her. She fell into a deep depression, shutting everyone including her own family out. Her mental state got so bad, she had to go to an inpatient facility as well as therapy. They put her on medication and she still does therapy to this day.

Matt nods and looks around awkwardly. He notices the bouquet of pink roses next to her and he smiles a bit. “Do you remember when I bought you those for the first time?”

His words trigger her, her knuckles turning white as she clenches the shopping cart. “Yeah…I-I do.” Her voice cracks. Matt notices and sighs to himself.

Maybe he shouldn’t have brought that up.

He walks past her towards the bouquet, and instantly she catches a whiff of him.

Versace Eros.

The cologne she bought for him.

She remembers how she had to pick up a few extra shifts just to afford the fragrance. She was so happy when she was able to buy it for him, even more excited to see his expression when the gift was given.

He picks up the bouquet and turns to her, “Let me buy you these…for old times sake?” He doesn't know why he offered, maybe it was because he knew he did her wrong.

Immediate joy spreads through the girl's body. The serotonin rushing to her brain. She nods, a wide smile on her face.

Her cart is long forgotten as she follows him to the checkout, a pep in her step as she eagerly skips to the self-checkout.

That interaction was a week ago, and that leads us to now.

She stares at her phone, waiting for Matt to respond. She decided to text him, a simple “thank you for the roses, it truly meant a lot💕”

It’s been about twenty minutes since she sent the text and she received nothing, until her phone rang. She quickly picks up the phone seeing that it’s Matt, her voice giddy.

“Hey Ma-who the hell are you and why is my fiance buying you roses?”

Her heart plummets. The good mood she was in wiped away in an instant.

Fiance?

He’s getting married?

Why would he buy her flowers if he’s getting married? He still loves her, right? He bought her flowers as an apology right?

“Y/n I think you are dwelling too much on the past. There’s other men out there for you.”

She snaps back into reality, looking around the therapist's office in confusion. She was just in her living room, getting cussed out by Matt’s fiance.

How did she get here?

Her therapist sees the confused look on her face and sighs knowing what’s going on. “You don’t remember how you got here do you?” The girl shakes her head. “You dissociated…Again. I thought we were getting better Y/n.”

“I-I am! I’m making progress! I just-he bought me flowers and then I find out he’s engaged! It’s perfectly normal to be upset!”

“It is, but not for two weeks.”

She’s been out of it for two weeks? She doesn’t even remember going to work, eating, or even sleeping. Her therapist sets their clipboard down, leaning forward slightly. “He’s a trigger for you. He makes your mental state and life worse-No! He helps! He doesn’t make anything worse he makes it better!” She’s quick to try and defend Matt, not liking the way her therapist degrades him.

“Does he? He broken up with you on your anniversary, claiming that he can’t handle a relationship with you anymore. He left you at the restaurant, leaving you to get an Uber home. He took all your friends away from you. When you tried to talk it out with him, he proceeded to degrade you and make you fall into a deep depression that had you in a mental hospital.”

“I’m sorry for being so harsh but it is the truth. I don't think you should dwell on Matt... There's other men out there for you."

"I don't want other men, I want him." she thinks to herself.

The therapist sighs and takes off their glasses in frustration seeing that she's not responding. "are you still taking your medicati-where are you going?” The therapist watches as Y/n grabs her things and stands up. "I need to go," She ushers out of the office, dashing to her car.

she climbs in and stares straight ahead, her breathing ragged as her therapist's words circulate in her mind.

She slams her hands on the steering wheel and begins screaming, kicking her feet and flailing her limbs in rage.

“He’s wrong! He’s wrong! He loves me! He loves me! He lo-“

She stands in front of the door, the bouquet of decaying roses in her hand. She doesn’t know how she got here. She looks around her, taking in the view of the gorgeous neighborhood. She could see herself living here with Matt. A ring on her finger as their kids play in the yard. She turns back towards the door but movement through a window catches her attention. The sight in front of her broke her heart, filling her body with immense anger

Matt and his fiance by the kitchen sink. She’s washing the dishes as Matt hugs her from behind, kissing along her shoulder.

Her hand clenches the stems harder, the thorns digging into her palm, drawing the smallest amount of blood. Her breathing becomes ragged, her heartbeat pounding in her ears.

She snaps.

She tears the roses apart, the petals and stems flying around, landing on the doorstep. She stares at the mess she made, one thought running through her head.

She looks through the window and sees that the lovely couple is gone. Not thinking clearly, she opens the door and creeps inside. She looks around the home, taking in the decor. knick-nacks lay on tables and bookshelves, a couple of blankets strewn over the couches. The TV was on in the living room, playing an episode of Friends.

"Matt hates friends." She thinks to herself. As she went to turn it off, she came across a picture sitting on a side table.

It was a picture of Matt down on one knee, proposing to his current fiance. She reads the bottom of the photo and her heart breaks.

They were going to get married on Y/n's birthday.

She feels stinging in her eyes as she stares at the picture. She blinked quickly and realized she was crying. Was it because of the heartbreaking news she found out, or was it because she forgot to blink? She doesn't know and she doesn't get to find out.

"What the fuck?"

She turns around and sees the fiance looking at her in fright. She begins screaming at her, yelling for her to get out. Y/n is freaking out, she doesn't want Matt to see her. "Calm your fucking tits!" She seethes trying to get her to be quiet.

"Get the fuck out of my house!" The fiance grabs a kitchen knife and begins wielding it. Matt rushes down the stairs hearing the commotion, eyes wide when he sees the scene in front of him. He dashes towards his fiance, trying to get her to put the knife down so no one gets hurt. Y/n stands there, not knowing what to do.

She was so entranced by Matt, she didn't see his fiance breaking out of his hold and charging at her.

It all happened so fast, two bodies colliding and a loud bang being heard.

a body drops to floor, blood seeping out of their chest.

"K-Kayla?" Matt croaks out, a lump in his throat as he sees his lover lying on the floor. He drops to his knees, pleading for her to get up.

Y/n stands there, her ears ringing as she watches the scene in front of her. She sees how distraught Matt is over his fiance being dead, his cries gut-wrenching. She comes to the conclusion that has her seeing red.

Matt was a lost cause, he truly loved Kayla.

"What did you do?" He turns to the emotionless girl, a look of pure hatred in his eyes. He stands staggered and gets in her face,

" WHAT DID YOU DO?!?!"

He's beyond angry, his chest rising and falling harshly, spit flying out of his mouth as he yells. Y/n looks away from the dead body and at Matt, the blood splatter on her face shining in the kitchen light.

"T-That shot wasn't for her." She mutters softly.

Matt's heart drops to his stomach as he takes a step back,

"W-What?"

He watches as Y/n's grip on the gun tightens, raising it so it's pointed right at him. “P-put it down,” He weakly demands.

“I tried…I really did Matt,” her voice cracks as she shakily holds the gun to his temple. “I tried so hard to get over you, move on, but I loved you, I still love you! You moved on so quick! Getting engaged and having the nerve to get married on my birthday! You bought me flowers!”

It’s clear as day that she’s losing it, not thinking straight at all. Matt doesn’t know what to do, he could try and take the gun away from her, but she could end up killing him in the process. He decides to play his cards right, hoping he could make it out of this alive.

"I-I do love you, I never stopped." He lies through his teeth. The words tasted like vomit, scorching his tongue as easily as they rolled off. The grip on the gun becomes loose, her eyes wide with admiration. Matt sees this and keeps going, apologizing to his late fiance in his head.

"I hated being with Kayla... She was so demanding and she forced me to move away from Nick and Chris. I only proposed because she demanded me to. Why do you think I don't wear my ring?" Y/n looked at his hands and sure enough, there was no ring.

"I chose your birthday to get married on because I wanted to run away from the altar and be with you."

"Y-You want to be with me again?" She allows her arms to drop to the side, the gun still in her hand. Matt gulps as he nods, slowly inching forward towards her. His shaking hands grasp at her waist, pulling her close. "I do, I want to be with you so but- but what?" her tone is anxious. What's holding him back from being with her? " We need to report the murder to the authorities." Y/n quickly shakes her head, tears forming in her eyes. "N-No! Matt I can't!" he grabs her face, attempting to calm her down.

"Hey hey! Calm down! It will be fine! I-If we call now and you confess, and say it was self-defense, you won't be in jail for that long! I'll visit you every day! We can get married and have our kids just like we always planned!" He's in distress, saying any and everything to get her to agree.

Her mind is reeling, nothing making sense to her. She wants to believe him so bad, but something is telling her not to.

Matt can tell she's torn, so he does the only thing he can think of.

He presses his lips against hers, holding her waist tightly. The kiss becomes intense, both of them holding each other tightly but for different reasons.

Y/n held him tightly as if he would disappear, not wanting him to leave her again. Matt holding her tightly hoping she wouldn't hurt him.

She tugs at his shirt, pulling it over his head when a glimmer of silver catches her attention.

A silver engagement ring on a chain, around his neck.

He's a liar. He never planned on visiting her, he doesn't love her anymore. There was no second chapter for Matt and Y/n, this was truly the end of their story.

"I love you," her words are whispered, her lips pressing one last kiss to his as she raised the gun.

"Y/n what are you doing?" She aims the gun at his chest, specifically where his heart sits.

"If I can't have you, no one can." She sniffles and cocks the gun.

"I'm doing this for us."

BAM

Matt stumbles back, his hand immediately flying to his chest. He looks down and sees his own blood staining his hand. he back at her, beginning to choke and sputter on the dark liquid, before dropping to the ground, landing right next to Kayla.

Y/n watches with sad eyes, her heart heavy as Matt goes limp, the light draining from his eyes.

She never thought it would come to this, this isn't how their chapter was supposed to end. Her body is on autopilot, grabbing the phone from her pocket and dialing a number.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"I just killed my ex, it wasn't the best idea. I killed his girlfriend too....I don't know how I got here. I killed him..." She confesses, her eyes still on Matt's dead body.

"You killed your ex? Ma'am could you tell me your loc- I did it on no drugs, I did it all while being sober. I did it for us." her voice void of all emotion.

"Are you still armed?" The emergency call taker asks once hearing the cocking of a gun.

"I'd rather die and be in hell than be in jail without him."

Bam!

The gun falls to the floor as her body topples over.

"Hello?! Ma'am?!"

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

FIRST FIC FOR MUWAP WEEK! sorry to start it off with a dark fic but I really wanted to write something for this song and tbh, this wasn't even the original idea I had for it 😭 but yeah. like and comment plz! repost if you would like! the fic for tmrw will be,

✯ex for a reason ft chris sturniolo✯

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