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roosterforme · 27 days

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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 21 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is learning firsthand just how lonely a deployment can be when he's gotten used to talking to you all the time. You are more than happy to record your daily adventures for him, including your steamy ones.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, masturbation, adult language, romantic Bradley, 18+

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Your original plan to commute to work from your apartment in Mira Mesa went out the window after the box from Bradley arrived. Suddenly his place seemed cozier now that there were tidy rows of envelopes from him covering the table in the living room. You sipped a mug of coffee and looked at all of them, selecting the one that said Open me with your class.

"Whatever you say, Bradley," you murmured with a smile, tucking it into your tote bag for work. You missed your kids almost as much as you missed him, but at least you'd finally get to see them today. You just hoped there was something upbeat in the note, because you were going to have to inform them that he'd be gone until Career Day. Or maybe longer.

Opening the note that was meant for you and your class before digging into all the others just felt right. Really, he was a faithful pen pal to all nineteen of you, even if his current letters were pre-written. As you drove to work, you wondered how long it would take your students to ask about Bradley. Turns out, it didn't take too long at all.

You were standing behind your desk, getting hugs from some of the kids as they got reacquainted with each other and the classroom for the first time in almost two weeks when Jayden asked, "What did you get Lieutenant Bradshaw for Christmas?"

Images of lingerie danced in your head as you cleared your throat. "Stationery," you replied. "So he can write us letters while he's deployed."

"He's deployed?" asked Nia, face lighting up. "With Marty?"

"Can we do another drawing contest with him?" shouted Oliver, already getting colored pencils out of his desk.

"Will you ask if he's allowed to take a video while he's flying this time?" Violet asked calmly.

"Actually," you replied, walking slowly to the front of the room with a single envelope in your hands, "we can't do any of those things. He's not allowed to communicate with anyone who isn't on the aircraft carrier this time around. If he writes to us, he'll have to save the letters until he returns."

Everyone stared blankly at you.

Jackie raised her hand. When you pointed to her, she said, "But we're not like random people. We're students of aviation. We're his pen pals."

"Yeah!" came a chorus of voices, and you were half tempted to write up a petition to the Navy for all of them to sign.

You had to clap your hands and wait for them to clap in response after they all quieted down again. "I have a note that he wants me to open with you. Should we do that now?"

After literally everyone agreed that was a good idea, you opened it and found a handwritten link to a YouTube video followed by a short note that you read out loud.

"Greetings, Fourth Graders,

By the time you read this, it will be January, and I'll be on an aircraft carrier in the Atlantic Ocean for a seven week deployment. I'm sure your lovely teacher has explained that sending and receiving letters is sadly not a possibility for me right now. I'm going to need you to keep track of all your questions about aviation until I get back for Career Day next month. I'll bring some of my friends along, and we can answer them for you then. Sound good?

Make sure you listen to your teacher, and I'll see you all in February.

Yours Truly,

Lieutenant Bradshaw"

You looked up from the notecard and added, "He also included a link to a YouTube video. Should we check it out now?"

It was actually amazing how quietly they all sat in anticipation while you set up your projector and typed out the link. When you turned out the lights, you had to grab onto the edge of your desk as Bradley's face and voice filled your classroom, even though he wasn't actually there. The twenty minute video began with him sitting on his living room couch in his worn out jeans and the Top Gun shirt you wore to bed last night, and you realized he must have filmed this on Christmas Eve when you were out with Natasha.

"Hi, everyone," said video Bradley as he waved to his phone camera. "I thought I would try my hand at a little lesson on aviation so your teacher could get a break. Make sure you take notes. There will be a quiz the next time I see you."

All of your students were watching him with rapt attention and pencils poised over their notebooks. Bradley kept them engaged and entertained while you fell even more in love.

-----------------------------

"What the fuck?" Bradley groaned as he sank down into an empty spot on one of the long benches in the mess hall. The spaghetti looked like mush, but his stomach was growling so aggressively, he decided to take a bite anyway. It tasted just as bad as it looked, and he grimaced as he started to shovel it into his mouth anyway.

What he wouldn't give for dinner at Salvatore's. Mouthwatering pasta. Expensive as hell wine. You in a short little dress with his hands all over your thighs. Maybe Bronco parking lot sex.

Instead he got another USS Gerald R. Ford meal which was barely edible, and a view of a very hairy Atlantic Fleet aviator with the call sign Curly. Fantastic. Even the garlic bread was so stale it was hard to chew, but if he didn't eat, he would start losing weight. And if he started losing weight, it would make working out harder, which would suck, because going to the gym was his main source of entertainment.

Other than writing letters he couldn't send.

"Are you gonna finish that?" Curly asked, pointing at the roll Bradley only bit the corner of.

"It's all yours, man," he replied, watching the other aviator pick it up and crunch on it with a smile.

Bradley picked up his tray with the intention of heading to his bunk to change into gym clothes, but when he got there, he collapsed onto the twin sized bed instead. It was clear that he'd only been brought along for this deployment to fly one very specific mission, because as a whole, the Atlantic Fleet pilots were young and green. But as a result of the current political climate, he had internet access completely taken away from him, and he was stuck here for five more weeks with nothing to keep him sane. He didn't even have Marty this time around. Just the pretty stationery set you gave him and the holiday cards from your students.

So he would do what he always did now. He would write. To all nineteen of you. But mostly to you. He realized, like he always did, that this was probably the most boring shit that anyone would ever read. How many times could you really read about your boyfriend telling you that he loved you and missed you. It wasn't like he was writing elegant poetry here.

Gorgeous, I miss you so much. You'd cry if you saw the spaghetti I had to eat for dinner. First thing I'm doing when I get home (besides you) is driving us to Salvatore's, and I won't stop eating until I pass out. The Atlantic Fleet food makes the Pacific Fleet cabbage rolls seem like a delicacy, and the US fucking Navy can quote me on that.

I love you. I wish you knew I was coming back to you instead of Norfolk. I wish I could ask you to use the credit card in my sock drawer to fully stock the refrigerator before I get home. The only things I want to do for three solid days after I arrive back in San Diego are eat, sleep, and fuck my girlfriend.

Definitely not poetry. "Was my writing this shitty last time around?" he murmured to himself with a laugh. It couldn't have been if you kept responding to him for the duration of that deployment. Just thinking about your letters, both professional and personal, made him ache right now. Your emails and your sassy selfies and the sunset photos were things he didn't even know he had been taking for granted.

One letter from you now would have made everything so much better. With a deep sigh, Bradley changed to head to the gym.

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Time passed slowly. Packing up and moving boxes of your things from Mira Mesa to Coronado helped, but you were a little too nervous to unpack too much other than the necessities. You didn't even want to think about that right now. All you wanted to do was plan your next visit to the wine bar with Natasha so you felt a little less lonely.

As you hung the framed blueprint of the Super Hornet Bradley gave you in the living room, you realized he would have to be lonelier than you were. At least you had Jayden's tales of Vanessa the dog to make you laugh during the work day. And you went out to dinner with some of your friends you hadn't seen recently. And you had a never ending text thread with Natasha now.

There was a pretty good chance Bradley didn't know anyone on this deployment, and you wondered if he was spending a lot of time in the gym. What you wouldn't give for a gym selfie. You collapsed onto the couch and scrolled through the images of your boyfriend that you had saved to your phone.

"God," you moaned. He was so hot. Especially in front of a sunset. Especially with your lipgloss smudged on his cheek. Especially when he was looking at you in his arms instead of at the camera. "Fuck."

When someone knocked on the door, you nearly fell off the couch. Your eyes caught on the envelopes from Bradley that you hadn't yet opened lined up on the coffee table as you walked across the room. The last time you had an unexpected visitor, it was Natasha. The time before that, it was Vanessa. You didn't know who to expect, but you squared your shoulders and pulled the door open with an abundance of attitude only to find a slightly hunched over older woman standing there.

"Oh!" you said, immediately softening your stance. "What can I do for you?"

She looked from you to the Bronco in the driveway and then back again. "Is Bradley home?"

"No, he's not," you told her, unsure about how much information to give. "Is there something you need?"

She eyed you carefully. "Are you his girlfriend? The teacher he fell in love with?" This stranger knew who you were. When you gave her a concerned look and took a step away from her, she said, "I'm Edith. I live next door. Sometimes Bradley helps me with yard work and repairs around my property." She smiled and added, "He only lets me pay him in piano lessons."

"Edith!" You told her your name with a smile. You knew exactly who she was, because the first time Bradley wrote to you about getting piano lessons from his retired neighbor, you fell halfway in love with him on the spot. "Right, of course! Bradley is actually deployed for a few more weeks." She looked immediately dejected, so you asked, "Did you need help with something?"

"I don't want to bother you with it," she said immediately.

"Please," you replied, already reaching for your shoes. "I'm so bored without Bradley around. I would absolutely love a distraction, Edith."

She wrung her hands and then held them up. "Well, I can't change my light bulbs, because my arthritis is bad this time of year when it gets chilly out. And my back patio is so dark at night, I can't see anything."

"Say no more," you told her, joining her on the porch and closing the door behind you.

It only took you a few minutes to change the exterior light bulbs and rearrange her patio furniture. Then you cocked your head to the side and asked, "Is something beeping?"

Edith sighed. "My smoke detector needs new batteries."

"I'm on it."

She led you inside the sliding glass door, into her kitchen where the beeping was annoying enough that you didn't know how this woman could have slept in the house unless her hearing was starting to slip. Edith told you where you could find a step ladder and new batteries, and once you finished that chore, she started digging around in her purse, pulling out five dollars.

"Thank you for your help," she said, trying to hand it to you as you walked past the piano with the step ladder.

"I am absolutely not accepting your money, Edith. This was the most entertaining part of my day. As long as your arthritis allows it, you can pay Bradley in extra piano lessons when he returns."

The idea of Norfolk suddenly made you feel anxious, but Edith smiled. "Oh, he's an advanced student. He mostly just plays from memory. I only point out when he's flat instead of sharp."

You weren't sure how long it had been since Bradley checked in with her, but as long as he was allowed to come back to San Diego, you'd make sure he did it more often. "I'll send him over as soon as he gets back."

Edith smiled knowingly. "Something tells me he's not going to want to leave your side right when he gets back. But maybe after a day or two, you could send him over?"

"I'll do that," you told her with a chuckle.

After you walked back across the yard and let yourself inside, you kicked off your shoes and decided to treat yourself with one of Bradley's notes. You'd been trying to ration them, but they were all so tempting. The ones you had already opened were stacked up on the kitchen counter where you could easily find them to read them again and again. You took a few seconds to decide which one felt right, and you settled on Open me when you need a laugh.

Inside the envelope, you found no note at all. There was just one photo, and when you pulled it out, you burst into laughter. Natasha was right; twenty-two year old Bradley was endearingly skinny and mustache-less. He still wore that same grin today, but he really grew into his frame. You marveled over how fresh his scars looked in the picture, deciding to hang it up in the bedroom for now.

And when you woke up on Sunday, the photo was the first thing you saw.

You reached for your phone thinking you could text Bradley before tossing it aside in frustration. You were frustrated in every way. Mentally and emotionally, but also physically. You missed sleeping next to him most nights. You missed his warmth and the way he kissed you. His strong body and attentive hands.

When you tried to burrow down under the covers in just his sweatshirt to go back to sleep, your skin felt like it was charged. Like there was an undercurrent of need that nothing would soothe except for Bradley.

Open me when you're in bed

That's what one of the envelopes said. You bit your lip before burying your face in Bradley's pillow and moaning. The need was still there, more palpable by the second. You had about an hour before Natasha was supposed to pick you up for brunch and the wine bar; it was the perfect time to read that note.

You ran down the hallway to the coffee table, grabbed the envelope, and took it straight back to bed. Your curiosity had been gnawing away at your mind over what could be in the note meant for the quiet solitude of the bedroom, and now was your chance to find out as you slipped back under the covers.

Gorgeous,

You better be in our bed right now. Maybe you just got home from work. Maybe you're still waking up for the day. Maybe you're ready to fall asleep soon, but you just need something to take the edge off. It doesn't matter, as long as you're thinking about me and my hands all over your body. I hope you're ready to read about how I would take care of you right now.... in an abundance of detail.

You moaned as you looked around the room, wide-eyed like someone was going to catch on to what he had written to you. Desire flared inside you as you squeezed your thighs together and took a few deep breaths before continuing to read.

You're beautiful inside and out. It's no surprise that you really get me going. One thought about the soft swell of your ass or the way you taste when you cum is enough to get me seriously hard. Jerking off while thinking about you is fantastic, but nothing compares to the real thing. Next time I see you, we're taking our time to get reacquainted, but right now, if I could have you, it would be fast and dirty.

"Oh god," you groaned, closing your eyes as you pushed his sweatshirt up, letting cool air meet your warm skin. Then your hand slid down to the apex of your thighs, and you weren't at all surprised to find you were wet.

You look sinful in that bed. I just know it. I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off you. My lips would find your breasts before sampling my way down your belly to that soaking wet pussy. When I say every inch of your body is Gorgeous, I mean it. You've got such a tight, pretty little pussy, and I would love to tease you until you're so worked up, you're practically crying. Just my mouth and fingers until you're begging for my cock, Gorgeous. Go ahead. Beg for it.

"Bradley," you moaned softly, a complete mess for your boyfriend even when he wasn't with you.

Good girl. Now touch yourself just how I'd touch you. Rub yourself just right. Use two of those fingers to warm yourself up and then dip them down inside that perfect pussy. So fucking tight, you drive me insane when I can't be with you. I'd be right above you, singing your praises, telling you how much I love you, and pumping my fingers in and out of that pussy while you whine and beg.

This note was absolutely lethal. You were already close. Sweat beaded on your brow as you stroked your fingers along your clit before pumping them inside you. His name was never far from your lips as you kept reading.

You taste so fucking sweet. I'd run my tongue everywhere until you couldn't stand it. I would eat your pussy until you cum in my mouth. I'd keep going until I couldn't handle how badly I needed you. Then I'd fuck you so hard and fast, you'd have tears in your eyes, voice ragged as my body slapped against yours. Tits bouncing as I bottomed out, holding you in place as I came inside you. And then I would let you know that I'm yours.

I'm all yours, Gorgeous. You absolutely own me.

You were panting, grinding the heel of your hand against your clit as you came. Bradley's note fell from your fingers as your back arched off the bed, and you grabbed the sheet as you cried out. You could hear something familiar mingling with your own voice, but it took you a second to realize your phone was ringing as you writhed around in bed, heart pounding fast from your orgasm. You rolled onto your belly and grabbed your phone as you sucked air into your lungs.

Natasha Trace

Shit. Shit. You tried to get your breathing under control as you answered her call, but you even sounded strange to your own ears as you said, "Hello?"

There was a pause before Natasha asked, "I'm leaving now, and I might stop for a fancy coffee on my way to get you. Do you want something?"

"Sure!" you replied, trying your best to sound casual, but pretty sure you were failing.

"I'll be there soon."

You dropped your phone and reached for the journal instead to let Bradley know just how hard you came for him before you got dressed for the day.

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"Bradshaw!"

It felt like an almost foreign concept for Bradley to hear his name now. Essentially nobody spoke to him outside of his mandatory meetings, and he'd spent so little time in a cockpit over the last few weeks, he spun around in surprise when someone called him.

Of course it was Admiral Walker. Bradley wasn't sure if he was being punished for what Cyclone had done, but he was hardly given any flight tasks to work on. But now that his deployment was starting to wind down, he realized the danger he was going to be flying into for his mission was much more than he originally anticipated.

"Admiral Walker, Sir?" he replied, saluting his superior officer. He wasn't looking to ruffle any more feathers here as long as it meant he'd be going home to you before too long. He felt sick with longing, missing you so much, especially at night, that he hurt until he was finally able to fall asleep. And then he'd wake up to the same choking feeling all over again the following day.

The older man examined him closely for a few beats before saying, "The weather looks ideal for tomorrow. You're team leader. Be ready to go at first light."

"Yes, Sir," he replied, because there was really nothing else to say. The sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could return home to his house in Coronado where you lived now. Where you were waiting for him. He just needed to get through this safely.

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I hate how isolated he feels. He's not thriving. He's not even eating well. He needs a hug. Gorgeous is enjoying the box of letters even is she is missing him terribly. I think I'll send him home soon. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 22

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faithisyours · 2 months

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Can’t Imagine Losing You

Azriel x Fem!reader

Summary: Azriel’s been acting moody lately, and you've had enough.

Warnings: ANGST! but also fluff. Smut, smut, SMUT! possessive Az, whimpering whiny Az, sort of a switch dynamic between the two, P in V, coming inside, oral both receiving, some ass stuff, i think that's it, not proof read

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: Hey y’all! Sorry for being MIA. Here’s another fic as a peace offering. I wanted to try some angst so hopefully I did it right. This whole thing took so many turns. Hope it's comprehensible. If you have any requests for fics you'd like me to write, I'm all ears (i need ideas, please I’m begging). As always, minors go away. Majors, enjoy!

“I have some work I need to do at the House of Wind today. It shouldn't take long.”

You were sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast, enjoying the warm summer breeze coming in through the open window when Azriel informed you he had to leave. You were disappointed, but not at all surprised. It seemed like there was always something to do, some report needing finished or some training schedule needing tweaked. And it was always your mate who needed to do it, especially on his off days, it seemed.

“Can you stay for breakfast at least?” you asked, infusing your words with hope to mask the disappointment.

“I’m sorry, my love, I can’t. I’ll see you later.” He pressed a swift kiss to the top of your head before practically running out the door. There was no, “I’ll make it up to you later,” or, “How about breakfast tomorrow?” or even an, “I love you,” before he had disappeared.

Instances like this had been happening more frequently over the past couple years, but recently it had gotten out of hand for you. You had been mated to Azriel for over a century at this point, and had known each other far longer than that. You originally assumed that these instances were caused by Azriel being distracted by his work. Being the spymaster for the Night Court was a lot to manage. But more recently you had begun to wonder if the spark had dimmed for Azriel. If he had started to feel differently than he had when you two were first mated.

You decided that tonight you would bring up your concerns with him. You prayed to the Mother it was only because he was so busy and not because he had begun to feel differently about being mated to you. For now, though, you finished your breakfast, put away the extra food you had made for Azriel, and got ready for your day.

Since Azriel wasn’t going to be home until later, you figured you could get some errands done while he was away. Azriel had been running low on his sleep tonic for a while now, so you decided to stop by your favorite apothecary and pick him up another one. While you were out, you figured you could stop by the market and get some more wine to replenish the stash you and the other ladies of the Inner Circle had drained not too long ago. You also picked up some ingredients you would need for dinner tonight.

It was nearing noon when you decided to head back home, but as you were making your way back, you passed the shop you had gotten your favorite lingerie set from. It couldn’t hurt, you thought, to go in and look around. It had been a while since you got a new set, and you thought you should treat yourself. If you found something you liked, of course. And as soon as you walked in, a rich purple satin set caught your attention. It was perfect; simple yet sexy, and looked rather comfortable as well. It had criss-cross straps that circled around the back and waist, to connect to the bottoms, which were detailed with black lace on the hips. You didn’t have a purple set yet, and you thought maybe Azriel would like it too. Maybe if things went well tonight you would let him see it.

You made your way home, purchases in hand, including that satin set, and hoped by the time you got there that Azriel would be home. But he wasn’t. You entered an empty home, warm yet breezy from the window you had left open, and started unloading your purchases. You put the wine on the rack, the ingredients for dinner on the kitchen table, and Azriel’s sleep tonic on his bedside table. Lastly, you fished that purple satin set out of its bag and tried it on.

You didn’t bother trying it on in the store because you already knew your measurements and didn’t want to bother anyone anyway. Just like you suspected, it was incredibly comfortable, and it fit you like a glove. Exhaustion washed over you then, even though it was a little past noon. Going out to run errands always seemed to suck the energy right out of you.

You didn’t bother taking off the set, but instead rifled through Az’s shirt drawer to find your favorite one of his, a flowy black cotton button down, and threw it on. Even though Az wasn’t here right now, you still wanted to feel close to him, hence the shirt. You curled yourself up on his side of the bed, enveloped in the comfort of his scent, and closed your eyes. The last thought you had before falling asleep was hoping this whole thing was a misunderstanding.

–

You awoke to the sound of a door slamming. You sat up, wiped the sleep from your eyes, and made your way towards the kitchen, the most likely source of the noise. You saw Azriel, leaning over the kitchen sink looking out the window. You glanced at the clock above the hearth, noting you had been asleep for about 4 hours.

“Hey Az,” you said groggily, “Sorry I didn’t meet you at the door, I was taking a nap. Did you just get home?” you asked, walking closer to him. He gave you a grunt in response. You noticed his shadows swirling agitatedly around him, making you stop in your tracks. “Az, are you okay? Did something happen?” A million thoughts cycled through your head in seconds. Did something happen at work? Are Cassian and Rhys okay? Is he mad at you? Did you forget something he asked you to get at the market?

“I’m fine. I don’t want to talk about it.” His answers were clipped, monotone. “I'll be in our room.” he pushed off from the sink and brushed right past you, not even bothering to look you in the eye, give you a kiss, or look even the slightest bit apologetic for his attitude.

“I got you more sleeping tonic. It’s on your bedside table,” you informed him. You got a closing bedroom door in response.

You had a lot of patience. You prided yourself on the amount of patience you had. But it was warring paper thin for your mate. You decided to make dinner to take your mind off it, and to hopefully give him time to calm down. It’s not like he’d never been moody before, but this was a little much. He was starting to act like a teenage son, not your mate.

–

Thirty minutes later dinner was done and on the table. You went over to your bedroom door, still closed, and knocked, then poked your head in.

“Dinner is done. I made one of your favorites,” you informed Azriel, who was just walking out of the connected bathing room when you had poked your head in. He had changed into something more comfortable since the last time you saw him.

“Be right out,” he responded, glancing at you as he said it.

You walked back out to the kitchen table and began to load up both your plates with food. Azriel joined you just as you sat down. He immediately started eating, seemingly not concerned that the food was still hot enough to burn his mouth. And it looked like you would be carrying the conversation this evening.

“Was everything alright at the House of Wind today?” you pried, hoping the question came off as inconspicuous.

“Everything is fine. It’s handled now,” he offered, still shoveling food into his mouth.

“Alright. Good. I just wanted to -”

He cut you off. “Can we just eat in silence please? It's been a long day.” The words were stern, but his tone was soft, tired. You paused at his words, letting them sink in. Maybe this was just a bad day for him. Maybe he would be better tomorrow. Maybe this conversation should wait, if he’s pretty tired already. But how long had this gone on? How long have you wanted to say something about it?

“No,” you said simply. He paused, a fork-full stopped midway between his plate and mouth. Finally, he looked at you. “No, we’re not going to sit in silence. I have something I want to talk about. And I realize you may have had a shitty day, but I also had a day. I did things I want to talk with you about. I’ve wanted to have a conversation with you since this morning. So, no, actually. I’m not going to sit here in silence. Okay?” You stayed staring into his hazel eyes until you got a nod, but you wanted his answer in words. So you kept gazing into those hazel eyes until you got one.

“Okay. Alright,” he said, lowering his fork and pushing away from the table slightly, keeping his eyes on you. “What did you want to talk about, Love?”

His use of that endearment almost makes you reconsider this conversation. Almost. “I wanted to talk about your workload. And how it’s affecting me. And your treatment of me.” He only nodded, encouraging you to continue. “I feel like your workload doesn’t leave time for us anymore. It seems like the amount of stuff you have to do on a daily basis is way more than it used to be. You barely get any time off, and even on your days off you still have to do something. Like today. And I want to know if that’s how you feel, too.” You gave him time to consider.

He cleared his throat. “I like to stay busy. You know that. I haven’t noticed an increase in my duties, but even if there has been, I’m not sure if there is anything I could do about it. Everyone’s plate is already full. I can talk to Rhys about allocating jobs, but I can’t make any promises.”

You nodded, if only to give you something to do. That was not the answer you wanted to hear, but you could work with it. You wanted to broach your next point, but you were scared he wouldn’t take it well. You took a deep breath. “This… this leads me into my next point. I feel like…I feel as though you haven't been treating me how I want to be treated recently. Like sometimes I get my mate Az, and other days I get Azriel the shadowsinger. Or I get moody, likes-to-slam-doors Az who can’t bother to answer his mate in full sentences because he's too pissed off at something he doesn’t even want to tell me, his mate, who he should be able to tell everything to, even if it “doesn’t concern me.”” Your voice had started to rise, but you couldn’t help it. You were angry. “And this was why I wanted to talk about your workload. It feels like you’re getting upset more because you have more to do, which in turn makes you unintentionally take it out on me. you regard me as a permanent fixture in this house, but I am not. I will leave if I am not treated the way I deserve. And Gods, Azriel, I hope that this is the only reason, that it is only because of you working too much, because if it’s something else, if it has to do with your feelings towards me changing, I don’t…I don’t even…” you trailed off, holding back a sob that had started climbing your throat.

Azriel was now standing, making his way over to you. He knelt down right in front of you, taking your hand in his, his eyes, full of worry and confusion, searched yours for answers. “Okay, alright, you’re right. I have been acting like a jerk to you recently. And I’m so sorry for that. Truly. Work has been a lot to deal with recently, but that’s no excuse. I'll talk to Rhys about getting more time off. So I can spend it with you, alright? But how could you think my feelings have changed? How could you even think that?” His look was incredulous.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, or rather, tried to. “We’ve been mated for a century. A lot can happen in that amount of time. I thought maybe…maybe the spark was dimming for you. Maybe you changed your mind. About me. About us. And if you did, that would be alright. I would live with that, if it made you happy.” You work your confession out between sobs. “I just…I guess I just got scared. I don't want to lose you.”

His eyes were still on yours, but the emotion in them had shifted. Now they were full of anger. Not anger for you, but rather anger at himself. How could he treat you like this? In a way that made you think he did not love you anymore. He had failed, he realized. He was failing you, your relationship, your trust in him. He had to fix this, had to try harder. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said with conviction, no room left for argument. “I love you. So much. More now than I did a century ago. Every day I love you more. I didn’t even think that was possible, but with you it is. You’re not getting rid of me even if you wanted to, okay? I’m staying, and I’m going to try harder, get more days off, spend them all with you. You’re the love of my life, ya? Nothing will change that.” He pulled you into a hug, kissed away your tears, and kept kissing you until your cheeks were dry.

He kissed you one more time, hard, on the cheek, then went back to his side of the table and sat down. He thanked you for dinner, asked about your day, what all you did, and in turn told you what had happened at the House of Wind. Apparently one of the Illarian camps had started some fights with another camp over space and resources. Rhys had thought it was taken care of, but there was another fight today, which resulted in Azriel having to go over there, break it up, and be the peacekeeper longer than he wanted. Hence him coming home late and in a pissy mood.

“You’re wearing my shirt,” he stated, cutting off your story of you in the market today. It wasn’t a conscious thought to cut you off. He had only just now realized you were wearing his shirt, and basically nothing else. He had been so distracted by what had happened today and you bringing up your concerns that he hadn’t even noticed. Possession coiled in his stomach like a serpent strangling its prey. Seeing you in his clothes, even though it was a rare occurrence, always made him hard. He couldn’t help it. Your strong, soft body wrapped in his shirt, the sleeves rolled up to your elbows, exposing all that lickable skin. It made his knees buckle.

“Is that okay?” you asked tentatively. He was looking at you now like a starved man, which you knew he wasn't, given the finished plate of food before him. You rarely wore his clothes, mainly because you swam in them due to how big they were on you. You guessed he was just surprised to see you in something of his, but that didn’t explain the heat in his gaze. “I put it on after I got home from running errands. I wanted to take a nap and I figured you weren’t using it so…” you explained, trailing off.

“You’ve been wearing my shirt all day. Only my shirt.” It wasn’t a question. More like a repetition of the fact in order to understand. But it wasn’t just his shirt you were wearing. As he said it he noticed the purple strap poking out by your shoulder. A purple strap. You didn’t own any purple undergarments. “What is that?” he asked, his gaze burning a hole in your shoulder.

Before you could even answer him he said, “Purple. You don’t own anything purple.” His gaze was lighting you on fire, his eyes full of slow understanding, pupils blown wide with lust.

You got up from your chair, pushing your empty dinner plate slightly forward, and walked around the kitchen table to his side to stand right in front of him. “Well, while I was out,” you started, your voice low and seductive, “I passed by that shop, you know, the one I got that royal blue set from.” Azriel knew exactly what you were talking about. Remembered your squirming form underneath him while you were in that set. He was starting to feel lightheaded from how much of his blood had gone to his crotch. “And I figured it wouldn’t hurt to go in and see if they had anything as good as that royal blue set.” You were teasing him now, you knew it. But it was so fun, you couldn’t help yourself.

“Please, my love. Please let me see it. Let me see you,” he begged, winned. It was music to your ears. He was so hard it looked like it hurt. He had started slipping off his chair onto his knees in front of you, his scarred hands coming up to grip your hips. He was actually begging.

“You want to see it?” you taunted. He nodded, swallowing audibly. “Alright, but no touching. Not yet.” You pushed his hands off your hips, which was more difficult than you thought it would be, and began unbuttoning the shirt. Each button you worked to undo made Azriel’s breathing heavier, until he was practically panting. His hands were clenched so tightly at his sides you were sure his fingernails would leave marks on his palms.

You felt like a goddess; the man you adored more than anything knelt at your feet, completely enraptured by you, in awe of all you are. You reached the last button, undoing it achingly slowly, just to see your mate break out in a sweat. His hands were clenching his thighs hard enough to bruise, his chest heaved like a dying man, and the only thing shining in his eyes was need. Need for you, need to touch you, need to be buried in you until neither of you could tell where one ended and the next began. Azriel was a gentleman, but right now, here in front of you, he was the embodiment of pure animalistic lust. One word from you and he would snap. Just how you liked him.

You let the shirt part, giving him a nice view of the valley between your breasts, as well as the crossing straps and lower, to where those straps connected. You dragged one side of the shirt down off your shoulder, then repeated the movement on the other side. Finally, you let the shirt drop off of you, leaving you only in that purple set. You stepped closer to him, and caressed his face with your hand.

“Please.” It was barely a whisper, but you heard it, saw his lips part to form the word. His eyes were pleading with yours. He needed you. Now.

“Okay,” was all you said before he was on you, standing, gripping your hips, kissing you, running his hands over all that satin. He was everywhere all at once, biting your lips, coaxing moans from your throat, groaning over the feel of you, and you reveled in it all. His hands came around the back of your thighs, and suddenly you were being picked up and carried down the hall, towards your shared bedroom.

You were placed gently onto the bed, which was still rumpled from your nap earlier. Azriel leaned over you, taking you all in. “I love the purple, but I need you naked,” he said, peppering your jaw with kisses. You reached down to your hips and unhooked the straps from the panties. Azriel quickly figured out how to get your top off, and in a matter of seconds he was dragging the purple satin down your breasts just so his hands and lips could cover them again.

He took one of your nipples into his mouth, rolled the other between his fingers, and sucked and licked and pinched and bit till your chest was littered with marks from him. All the while, moans and whimpers poured out of you. Azriel reveled in the divine sounds you made, the sounds he made you make.

He made his way down your body, drawing closer and closer to where you needed him most.

“Please, baby. Please let me taste you,” he whispered, pleaded, begged. You gave him confirmation, that one word he needed to hear, then he was dragging those purple satin panties down your legs and throwing them across the room. He parted your legs, exposing your glistening core to him. The look in his eyes was that of absolute hunger. He didn’t bother with teasing you. He put his tongue right on your cunt, giving you no time to adjust or think before he licked a stripe from your entrance to your clit, spreading your arousal across his tongue.

You propped yourself up on your elbows so you could watch him; watch as he devoured you, drank from you, absolutely consumed you. He licked and sucked at your clit, brought it between his teeth, and eased the bite with more licks. Your head fell back as you moaned his name, lost in the pleasure he was giving you. Sooner than you even thought possible, you were on the edge of release, that coil in your belly drawing tighter and tighter. Without warning, Azriel slid a finger into you, curling it in a way that had you falling apart. He added a second, and it was your undoing.

You came with Azriel’s name on your lips. He worked you through your pleasure, continued to lick and suck till you were shaking from overstimulation. You pushed his head away, but he wouldn’t budge. He kept on licking you, drinking every drop of your release straight from the source. You were boneless, soar from overstimulation, but you could feel another orgasm rising within you.

Azriel moaned from the taste of you, the vibration making your hips buck. He continued to work his fingers into you, curling perfectly to reach that spot that made you scream. Profanities and pleads and promises poured from your mouth, but Azriel didn’t stop until you were coming again, on his fingers, on his face, on his tongue. Finally, after drinking every last drop of your essence, he worked his way back up to your mouth.

He kissed you until you came back to reality, until your limbs regained function. You kissed him back, moaning from the taste of yourself on his tongue. And then you were pushing him onto his back, straddling his hips to keep him there. He struggled a bit, pointing to his pinned wings, but you only smiled at him. “Is the Illarian baby pinned?” you taunted him. He stopped struggling, but instead glared at you. So you dragged a finger down one of the veins in his wings, and a moan slipped past his lips.

“That's what I thought,” you muttered. He was still fully clothed, and the contrast of your nakedness only spurred you on further. You kissed him, long and deep and unhurried, while you unbuttoned the length of his shirt. He broke the kiss to shed his shirt, so you turned your attention to unlacing his pants. While you worked, he kissed and nipped your neck, working marks into your soft flesh. You worked his pants down his legs, aided with Azriel’s help, and eventually he was naked underneath you.

You pressed him down to lay flat on the bed, then started your journey down towards his hard length. As you worked your way down, you liked and sucked and bit until his skin was littered with marks, just like yours was. You scraped your nails down his arms, down his sides, till he was shivering from your touch.

Kneeling now between his legs, guided a hand towards his length while you kissed his hips and rolled the skin between your teeth. His hips bucked at the fist fell of your hands on him, which made you smile. “So responsive,” you purred, then licked him from base to tip. He let out a moan that had your thighs rubbing together. With your tongue, you licked up the bead of precum that had frond, then promptly took as much of him into your mouth as you could.

Azriel speared his fingers through your hair, not to control your head but to steady himself. Your mouth was a dream to him; warm and wet and perfect. Second best only to your cunt. You hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper and deeper into your mouth until he was hitting the back of your throat. Az was panting at this point, his skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Your mouth felt so good, but he needed to be inside you.

“I’m gonna…please…I need to be inside you,” he panted out. You pulled your mouth off him with a pop, then gave him one last lick before you climbed your way back up to him. You kissed him, mainly just so he could taste himself on you. Then you positioned your hips just above his, readying yourself to sink onto his length.

Using his hand, he parted you, spreading your slick on you and on his hand. He eased you onto his cock slowly, letting you adjust to him. Every time you took him, it was an adjustment. You hoped that would never change. You both made an obscene noise when he was finally, completely in you.

“You want to be filled, baby?” he asked as he ran the fingers he had parted you with down between your ass cheeks. Yes, you wanted to be full of him, wanted to be overwhelmed by him, wanted to feel him everywhere. You nodded. “Words, love,” he chided softly.

“Yes, please Az,” you wined. That was all you had to say before he worked his fingers into you, using your slick on his fingers as lube. He gripped your hips with the rest of that hand and the other, a bruising grip that was sure to leave bruises.

Azriel was sitting up slightly now, and even though you were on top of him, he set the pace. Slow rolls of your hips guided by his hands started you off. All you could think about was how full of him you were, how overwhelming the feeling of him everywhere was. Your pace quickens, spurred on by your whimpers and his moans. Your eyes were locked with eachothers, and within Azriel’s you saw his bottomless pool of love for you. His pupils were blown wide, and so were yours.

You kissed him, hard, and he returned it even harder. You’re moaning into eachothers mouths, the only goal being to guide each other to your peaks. You could feel that ache building, that need for release drawing closer and closer. Azriel could feel it too, reveling in the way your walls gripped him. He shifted his free hand around to play with your clit, and then you were coming, harder than you had in a while, cresting on a silent scream.

Azriel was right behind you, fucking sloppily into you until you were gripping him so tightly he could barely move. He came, chanting your name like a prayer, until his voice went hoarse.

You both laid there, panting and boneless, for minutes or hours or days, you couldn't tell. Eventually he guided you off of him, pulling out of you with a hiss, to lay you next to him. He gave you a kiss on the cheek before getting up to go to the bathing room. You heard the sound of water rushing into the tub, and in the next minute Azriel came back in, picked you up bridal style, and whisked you into the bathing room.

He set you down gently into the warm water then joined you, settling in right behind you. He pulled you back so your back was against his chest, then proceeded to wash you with a soapy cloth. When he was done you returned the favor, batting his hand away when he tried to protest. You finished up in the bath, dried each other off, then slipped into some sleeping clothes and then bed.

“We’re okay, right?” he asked, pulling you closer to him. Your heart melted, warmed by the idea that he wanted to make sure.

Yes, Az. We’re all good,” you replied, giving him a kiss on the nose.

“Okay. good,” was all he said before he tucked you tighter into him and you both fell asleep.

#acotar #azriel fanfiction #azriel fluff #azriel shadowsinger #comfort #acotar fic #fanfiction #night court #azriel x reader #fluff #angst with a happy ending #angst #smut #azriel smut #acotar smut #azriel angst

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laughing-with-god · 11 months

Text

Unsaid Vow I

(This is the first 1.7k of the 10k chapter that is available right now on my Patreon. Please join for early access plus beta content!)

Synopsis: You always knew when you weren't wanted. And the way things are going in your marriage with Jungkook, a divorce is looking more and more likely. While he's getting closer to a woman at work that you're certain he's having an affair with, you're planning your escape with your four-year-old son. However, five years of marriage did not expose you to a certain side of your husband. A side of Jungkook that only gets triggered when you try to leave and break apart your perfect 'family'.

Warnings: Yandere behavior, graphic language, violence/murder, women bashing on other women, heavily implied infidelity, bad parenting, absent father, broken family vibes, very slow buildup bc Jungkook doesn't really snap until you leave him so just give him a min lol, inexperienced author writing for a five-year-old.

Also looking for new fic art for this if anyone's interested!!

Read first: Prologue

“I’m a grown man.”

These were the words that greeted you and effectively pulled you out of your weary slumber.

You drowsily rubbed your eyes and rolled over, yawning as you took in the sight of your son staring at you bemusedly from beside your bed.

If you weren’t used to this behavior from Hugo already, you perhaps would've screamed at the sudden creepy sight of a child with a solemn expression saying odd things to you before the sun has even risen. Yet, you have grown accustomed to the old man your toddler was.

“Good morning to you too, bud.” You groaned tiredly, already searching your thick bedding for your phone in order to check the time. Your alarm hadn’t even gone off yet, which told you it was earlier than you had originally planned to wake up. But what was the point of having plans when you had a child? They had a talent for ruining them.

“I’m five today.” Hugo ignored your greeting, getting right into the point with furrowed brows as he held up all five fingers, each one representing a year of his life.

“Yup, I know dumpling.” You chuckled, finally pulling out your phone and opening it to see ‘6:03 am” staring back at you. “Believe it or not, the day you were born was quite memorable for me too.”

You cringed as you thought of the 20 hour labor that preceded Hugo’s birth. How could you ever forget that hellish day?

“Mom, it’s my birthday.” Hugo told you, tone serious as a heart attack.

“Yes, happy birthday love.” You smiled at your son, trying not to let him see the exhaustion you secretly felt. “I suppose there’s no way I can talk you into going back to bed for another hour or so?”

“No. You always say ‘the day starts when I first open my eyes in the morning”. Your son parroted the saying back to you with a proud grin.

Hugo once went through a phase where he wouldn’t want to leave the bed after waking up, simply wanting to stay in pj’s all day long and watch cartoons amongst his stuffies.

It took a while to get your little homebody to actually stop this habit and begin getting up to ready himself for the day whenever he woke up. You used to tell him that the day starts whenever he opens his eyes in the morning, however on days like these where he wakes up super early, he now does not see the point in lying in.

“Right, that is a good point.” You softly relented, mentally scolding yourself for yet another parenting tactic backfired. “How does some breakfast sound?”

“Mom, I have a prop-pre-preposaa-”

“Proposal?” You offered, swinging your legs off the side of your bed.

“Yeah, that.” Hugo nodded to himself, most likely taking note of the proper pronunciation of the word so he can use it again in conversation. “I think it’s time we talk about coffee.”

“Coffee?”

“You and daddy are always saying that coffee is for grownups. Today I’m five, which means I’m older, which means I should be able to have coffee.” Hugo reasoned this to you while twiddling his thumbs, a nervous habit he does when he wants you to say yes to something he knows is unrealistic.

“Mmm...” You hummed, pretending to think hard about the offer. “What if I gave you a very light coffee? A beginner version to get you ready for the real thing when you’re older?”

Hugo looked conflicted, but after reading your face and correctly assuming that’s the best he was going to get, he nodded solemnly in reluctant agreement.

With one final huff you shoved yourself off the king sized bed, standing to your full height and throwing your arms up in a stretch. “Why don’t you wait in the living room for me bud? I’ll be right out.”

The freshly turned five year old happily nodded up at you before exiting your bedroom, leaving you alone once again.

You turned your attention back to the bed in which you just rose out of. More particularly, you stared at the other side of the bed, the side in which your husband was supposed to sleep on.

It was a direct opposite of your messy side, crisp and neatly made; the fluffy pillows, pressed sheets and silk duvet being perfectly in place. Yet, this wasn’t an ode to Jungkook’s neatness and attention to detail.

No.

Jungkook hasn’t been sleeping in the same bed as you for a while now.

Your husband always preferred to rise early, given he was a man who liked to follow a strict morning regime which could easily be thrown off if he slept in even a minute later. Up at 5:30. teeth brushed and face shaved by 5:40. Breakfast, coffee and newspaper consumed by 6:00.

Then right before taking his leave, Jungkook would pack himself a bag of work clothes and make a quick protein shake, given he would then head to the gym where he would get his morning workout and shower from. Then from the gym, he would head straight to work.

A few months ago, he suggested sleeping in the guest room.

You had asked why, bewildered at the request.

Sure, you two didn’t really cuddle anymore. Sex was also rare. But you figured that the least you could do as husband and wife was sleep in the same bed amicably. Had you started kicking him in your sleep or something?

“I’d notice you begin to kinda stir when I first get up and go about my routine. I don’t want to wake you up or be a bother.” He had said.

That didn’t really make sense to you.

You have always been a deep sleeper. And even if you did wake up for a second, you’d clearly see your husband getting ready for the day, roll over and go back to sleep.

It was such a lame excuse, you just shrugged and bitterly told him that he hogged the blankets anyway.

It wasn’t true, but Jungkook didn’t comment.

You trudged over to the ensuite bathroom and quickly did your morning routine.

When you came out of your room and into the living space, you saw Hugo glued to the giant flat screen in a trance-like state as he watched his usual morning cartoons. The sight tugged a small smile out of you, although the mother in you didn’t like how close he was.

“Hugo, back up from the screen! Bluey isn’t going anywhere. Your eyes will go bad.” Your son wordlessly obliged and scooted back, not breaking eye contact with his favorite family of puppies. “What would you like for breakfast ‘Mr. grown man’?”

“Blueberry pancakes…and don’t forget my coffee!”

“You got it, birthday boy.”

The kitchen, dining and living room were open concept, so you multi-tasked watching Hugo while whipping up his breakfast. You never were much of a cook and you still aren’t even after motherhood, but you did commit to learning your son’s favorite dishes.

The process was over quickly, you having made this recipe countless times and knowing it like the back of your hand.

You set a plate on the island table, calling Hugo over while you secretly mixed some instant hot chocolate in a mug.

The five year old jumped up and grinned at the meal, saying a quick “thank you” before digging in with all the grace a five year old could possibly have.

“And of course, your coffee.” You tried not to smile as you handed him the cup.

“Thanks mama.”

The mini-Jungkook took a gulp, then stared seriously at the contents of the mug, swishing it around in some faux detective work.

“Something wrong, dumpling?”

“It tastes…fa-fam-”

“Familiar?”

“Yes. Is coffee always this sweet?”

You laughed, now moving to the real coffee maker to make your own cup. “No, this is the kid version. It might taste like chocolate because chocolate has caffeine in it too.”

Your little old man huffed to himself but nodded in agreement, simply not knowing enough to dispute your logic.

Your old coffeemaker grumbled awake, croaking and hissing as you pressed the worn-out buttons for your usual morning brew. Jungkook always made fun of you for the ancient machine, but even after he had bought a much more expensive and up-to-date one, you stubbornly remained loyal to yours.

“So buddy, what do you want to do today? We can go get new books, hit up the toy store, maybe even visit the aquarium?”

“I wanna help set up for my party, mommy.”

Well, “party” wasn’t quite the right word for it.

Hugo had no friends. It was tough for a kid like him to make any. At this age and as a boy, most of his peers would meet and form relationships in little league or rough housing at the local park.

Your son was different. He preferred reading to sports, hated the outdoors and was generally a shy kid who tended to tear up when anyone other than his family tried speaking to him.

So this year, his birthday party was an intimate circle of family and family friends. You hoped that by next year you could host an actual kid birthday party, as Hugo would be in school and have classmates by then.

“That’s very sweet of you, but there’s time to do both.” The boy looked at you skeptically. “We can go to the bookstore across the street after breakfast and I’ll let you pick out some new bedtime stories. Then we can go to the aquarium and have lunch there. And on our way home I’ll stop by the store to get some stuff for the party, and you can get a toy. Sounds good?”

Hugo frowned, then peeled back his pajama sleeve to look at his submarine-themed watch. The act seemed a little pretentious to you, given he didn’t yet know how to read clocks.

“Fine mommy, but we should be quick. Also you need to ask our guests if they have any food aler-alergeez-”

“Allergies? Yes bud, I’ll be sure to send them a text.” You rolled your eyes.

With that, Hugo quietly finished his breakfast as you sipped your coffee.

When you two were done, you both got dressed and ready for the day’s activities.

Before leaving the apartment, you were sure to send a text to your husband.

‘Be home by 6 please. Hugo’s birthday party starts at 6:30 and he needs you there.’

#yandere jungkook #bts #yandere bts #jeon jungguk #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #yandere bts fic #yandere imagines #bangtan boys #bts x reader

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chrisevansonly · 1 year

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𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜

✯social media au

✯charles leclerc x female reader

✯nothing beats the love of a father <3

✯not requested just felt like getting another little something out, im working on some writing prompts and fics as well so i hope they come out soon🩷

ynleclerc

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Alia & Mommy day, just missing daddy🩷

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username she’s so precious 😭

username i need to know where the blonde genes come from

>ynleclerc my mom!!🥰

leclerc_pascale trop mignonne❤️❤️

>ynleclerc 😘😘

francisca.cgomes the cutest momma and daughter duo

>ynleclerc see you this weekend auntie kika!!

charles_leclerc my girls, i miss you both so much🙁

>ynleclerc we miss you more…see you soon my love❤️

username are we getting alia in the paddock content?👀

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ynleclerc added to their story!

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charles_leclerc

liked by scuderiaferrari, ynleclerc, carlossainz55 and 768,000 others

then and now, please stop growing so fast mon petit fleur😘

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username she’s growing up so fast😭

username the real og’s remember baby alia

ynleclerc look at her!! she loves the track as much as you char❤️

>charles_leclerc time to put her in karting?

>ynleclerc we’ll talk…..

username alia for the win!!

carlossainz55 okay now bring her over to me, it’s time for our tea party

>ynleclerc that’s why she keeps saying ‘tea with coco’ 😂

>username alia calls carlos coco😭😭

>landonorris why don’t i have a cute nickname😃

scuderiaferrari she’s our favourite guest❤️❤️

wagsofF1

liked by username, F1gossip, paddock news and 4,000 others

charles watching his wife and daughter at his interview in the fanzone today, and then as soon as Alia got fussy and they began to walk away he was super serious, keeping his eye on them. at one point a few fans got a bit too excited and you should have SEEN how upset he was, he left the stage and made sure security attended to his family until he could get to them and make sure they were safe.

remember they are people too and there is no excuse for the behaviour shown today towards the leclerc family.

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username those fans need to a grip

username he’s so protective of his girls :(

username Alia was crying and you could tell Y/N was getting anxious, charles was so quick to jump in and make sure they were safe

username best dad of the year award goes to charles fr

username anyone who tried to scare y/n and alia today aren’t real fans.

username i hope they’re all ashamed of themselves

ynleclerc

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the worlds best father and husband, thank you for loving and keeping Alia and I safe❤️

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charles_leclerc

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you’ll always be safe with me❤️

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arthur_leclerc love you guys❤️

carlossainz55 ❤️

ynleclerc we love you so much char, never forget that

>charles_leclerc nothing like that will ever happen again.

carla.brocker looking forward to giving you guys big big hugs❤️

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ynleclerc

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I know we weren’t there to watch in person like we originally planned but we are so proud of you honey! I know Alia was happy to see you when you got home, I swear you can tire her out better than me most days. we love you so much and can’t wait to see you keep winning❤️

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username YAY CHARLES!

username i still feel so upset that y/n and alia left the race because of stupid fans☹️

username our favourite family!!

charles_leclerc I love you both so much, this win was for you❤️

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scuderiaferrari sending hugs to you all, hope to see you again someday soon❤️

>ynleclerc you can count on it☺️

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glutengoblin · 1 month

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Guilty As Sin, Sebastian Sallow X Reader (Part 1)

A/N: This one has been sitting in my drafts for waaaaay too long. Originally, I planned to make it just one complete part before posting. Given its length, I decided to split it up.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Thanks for all the love on my other pieces of writing, it means the world to me!

(She/her pronouns, house neutral)

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: Some 18+ Content

Disclaimer: I am not Taylor Swift and therefore do not own the rights to "Guilty As Sin"

Though the Hogwarts library was typically where MC liked to study most, today she couldn’t capture her focus. At some point when she was working through the stack of parchments she needed to complete by the following Monday, the words had begun to blur indistinguishably together.

Studying alone was a complete drag. Placing her head on the desk, she resigned to taking a short break, in the hope that it might allow her to regain her focus.

She felt as if she had begun to blur into the background noise of the library herself. The gentle chatter of students working together, the occasional shush from Scribner, and the tap of quill pens against the desks nearby only served as a reminder of how quiet her life had been since it had all happened.

The events of her 5th year had hit her like a freight train; she felt as if that was the only appropriate way to describe it at that point. Learning that she had magical abilities (let alone ancient magical abilities), the nearly insurmountable weight of having to protect the wizarding world on her shoulders, and the eventual loss of her mentor was more trauma than any 15-year-old should have to endure. She knew that now. Yet, somehow, one of the worst parts of that trauma was trying to work through what was left of her shattered friendships.

Poppy, Natty, Garreth, and Amit had stuck around thankfully- she wasn’t entirely alone, and that much she was thankful for. Their crew managed to keep her mostly entertained, as there was a never-ending supply of mischief that they managed to get her into. Poppy always managed to find a way to add a new best to the vivarium. Figuring out their care was a constant challenge, and MC was thankful Deek was so willing to help in the endeavor. Natty, on the other hand, constantly dragged MC into the Forbidden Forest, hell-bent on ridding the Earth of the few Ashwinders that still meandered about the land. Garreth was… Garreth. That alone was enough to keep her on her toes.

Ominis and Sebastian… That was another story. Since the events occurred in the catacombs, Ominis and her had spoken occasionally in the undercroft, mainly trying to parse through what was left of Ominis’s shattered emotions, due to the betrayal he felt his best friend had committed. It was an effort to convince Ominis that they shouldn’t send Sebastian to Azkaban the moment he killed his uncle. He felt as if Sebastian had now sealed his fate towards turning into a dark wizard. However, once he calmed down a bit, Ominis seemed to conceptualize Sebastian’s decision as an act of self-defense; still, Ominis felt like their friendship was forever fractured beyond repair, and the boys hadn’t spoken since.

At first, MC had done her best to avoid being around, or even thinking about Sebastian. They had grown remarkably close during their 5th, honestly to the point where MC had found herself beginning to think of Sebastian as more than a friend. But after her fifth year, she needed time to try and process what he had done for herself. She kept her space, and he seemed to fall into their new rhythm. Gone were the days of playfully shoving each other as they walked the Hogsmeade streets, mouths full of pumpkin pasties. Instead, their relationship was reduced to glances across classrooms, followed by the occasional smile from Sebastian - but nothing more.

MC’s friends picked up on the obvious changes in behavior from her and Ominis towards Sebastian, and somewhere along the line, they had decided he was person non-grata. While none of them knew what he did, for Ominis and MC to turn their backs on him, they were forced to assume the worst. Thus, even if MC ever did want to try and close the gap, she felt like couldn’t. Part of the reason she adored her friends was because they had grown so protective of her since her fifth year- but she also resented it, feeling as if golden handcuffs now controlled her every move in regards to Sebastian.

The world blurred back into focus as Poppy plopped down beside her, looking over the papers strewn across the table. Poppy picked one up, examined it, and frowned.

“Seems like you’re a bit overwhelmed at the moment.” Poppy offered a small smile, receiving a laugh from MC in return.

“You could say that. I just need to get all of this done by Monday. And quite frankly, it's a lot.”

Poppy let out a soft melodic laugh. “I hate to break it to you, Y/N, but unfortunately that will be our future for the next year.”

Y/N let out a soft sigh, and flipped a page, examining its contents as she tried to pull the information from her mind. At this point, it was simply beyond her. Thankfully, she generally started her work early, and since it was only Thursday she decided it might be best to take a break. She began shuffling the papers into neater stacks, looking over at Poppy.

“I'm honestly not sure I can focus for much longer. How do you feel about a break? Perhaps a walk to Hogsmeade might be in order?” Poppy flashed a smile and began helping her friend pack up her papers.

“That sounds wonderful.”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Although it was only September, there was slight a crispness about the air that spoke of fall in Scotland. Y/N savored her breaths, and the feeling of sunlight dancing on her skin, knowing that soon the area would be reduced to days full of rain. Though she adored the chillier fall days, colored by falling leaves and perfect for drinking tea, she was thankful she got outside while she could.

Poppy trotted alongside her, excitement evidently growing as they reached the Hogsmeade gates. The town was pretty rowdy for a Thursday, but that was likely due to the fact that it was the first-week students were back in Hogwarts. Most of them were likely retrieving supplies that they had forgotten to purchase before returning to school.

Y/N sighed, her thoughts wistfully returning to two years ago, almost to the exact day when Sebastian had been guiding her on that exact quest. While the troll attack had certainly put a damper on things, Y/N had greatly appreciated the time she got to spend with Sebastian. She knew from that point onwards that they would be great friends, or even something more. **She bit her lip at that additional thought, unsure of exactly where it had come from.

Truth be told, that was a lie. She had been eyeing Sebastian at the Great Feast earlier that week, and in their first few classes together. The transition to the seventh year had done something to him. Although she had always considered him attractive, he had grown taller and filled out a bit. While not overly muscular, the new changes certainly made him look older, something she found her thoughts wandering too over the past couple of days.

Y/N snapped out of her state of quiet contemplation when the pair reached Honeyduke’s. They were on the hunt for some treats to add to their stashes. Poppy made a beeline to the jelly beans, while Y/N took some time to peruse the chocolate frogs. Garreth had told her a rumor that apparently there was a way to determine which card each container held. The print supposedly differed slightly on each container, so Y/N leaned in to study the stack, trying to look for any hint of this supposed difference.

Eventually, she stood straight again to passivated the tinge of pain that played at her spine for bending over too long. To her surprise, she looked over the stack to find herself staring into a pair of familiar brown eyes.

“S-Sebastian?” Y/N choked out, caught a bit off guard by their sudden proximity. Although the stack of treats still separated them, this was closer than they had been in over a year. It was then that Y/N realized how tall he had grown - the difference was a bit startling now.

Sebastian stayed quiet for a moment, clearly considering his next words carefully.

“Y/N- I was hoping we’d run into each other at some point this year. I-I… I’ve been meaning to speak with you.” A look of shock crossed her face, before settling into an uncontrolled smile. Maybe this was the way to bridge the gap after this year.

“Alright… About what exactly?” Sebastian opened his mouth to respond, but an instant later, Y/N felt an arm being looped through her’s. She looked over to see Poppy, who looked to be a mix of both uncomfortable and pissed. Poppy’s eyes traveled up and down Sebastian, obviously sizing him up.

“How do you do Sallow?” She asked, her voice dripping with more disdain than Y/N had expected to ever hear out of Poppy. Sebastian’s smile flattered for a moment, a glimpse of a frown crossing his lips before he gained control of his emotions again.

“I’m good Sweeting. It’s good to see you after so long.” Poppy offered a disingenuous smile, before turning to Y/N.

“Y/N, we must be going. I heard a rumor that there’s a sale on pet feed at The Brood and Peck. We must go before they run out. Bye Sebastian!”

With that, Poppy practically dragged her friend out on the street, spinning around to face her.

“What was he thinking! Suddenly speaking to you like that- after a whole year! The audacity.” She shook her head, as Y/N studied the ground, trying to decide on the best method to proceed with this conversation.

“It’s alright Poppy. Honestly, it was nice to see him again after so long.” Poppy frowned at that, clearly a bit distraught at that comment coming from Y/N.

“Look, I don’t know why you and Ominis stopped speaking to him, but it must have been bad to cause that big of a rift in your friendship. If it truly hurt you that much… I would just be careful around him. You really don’t need any more emotional turmoil in your life.”

Y/N sighed softly, running a hand through her hair as she thought about Poppy’s point. She had to admit, in a sense she was right.

“I’ll take your comments under advisory Poppy. Now, was there truly a sale at Brood and Peck?” Poppy instantly brightened up at the question, the frown melting from her face.

“Oh yes! You think I could lie about something like that? So, we must head over- we definitely need more fed for the vivarium before they run out.”

With that, the girls departed the front of Honeyduke’s. Y/N glanced back once they had taken a few steps, and swore that she could see Sebastian in the window, looking at them. But, she turned around to follow Poppy, figuring that the mystery of what Sebastian wanted to discuss would best be left to later.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

A day later, Y/N was sitting in her dorm, polishing off the last of the stack of homework she had been working on the previous day. Although it felt lame to be doing work on a Friday night, rather than being out with her friends, Y/N enjoyed it. Getting all of her homework done now meant that she could enjoy the rest of her weekend.

Just as she was dotting her last Is and crossing her Ts, an owl flew in through her open window and dropped a letter in front of her. Y/N was a bit surprised, as typically she received mail in the mornings at breakfast. Needless to say, receiving a letter at this time of night was a bit strange.

Y/N opened the envelope, as the owl sat perched on her coat rack. To her surprise, she instantly recognized the handwriting, even a year later. It was Sebastian's.

“Dear Y/N,

I'm writing to you because we were unable to finish our conversation yesterday at Honeydukes.

I've been wanting to speak with you about what has transpired since 5th year, and mainly, I wanted to apologize for my behavior.

Y/N, I am deeply sorry for the way I pulled you into my schemes that year. It was unfair to you, and I shouldn't have taken advantage of your friendship like that. You're a true friend, and I had very few of those. So, I want you to know that I greatly appreciate everything you did for me.

Secondly, I'm assuming that part of the reason why you haven't spoken to me is because of what occurred in the catacombs. All I wanted to say was thank you. Over the past year, without you, Anne, and Ominis in my life, I've realized the error of my ways. That the path was dragging me further down, away from my family and friends - the people who matter most to me. I'm sorry.

I also feel horrible for not being there for you after Professor Fig's death. I know he was a great mentor to you, like a parent, and that it must have hurt very much. I feel horrible for not being able to support you through that time.

I'm hoping you can find it in your heart to forgive me. If that's not possible, I completely understand. If so, I wish you all the best in life. You deserve it.

Sincerely,

Sebastian Sallow”

Y/N sat there, a bit shell-shocked at what she had just read. There was no bit of that Sebastian snark in the letter. He seemed to be genuinely sorry, and trying his best to bridge the gap that formed between them.

Her heart fluttered a bit in her chest as she retrieved a fresh envelope and piece of parchment from her slightly broken desk drawer, and began to hastily write.

“Dear Sebastian,

While I admit it was difficult to come to terms with what happened 5th year, I feel as if I finally can.

Your apology is much appreciated, but I should also apologize to for abandoning you in what must have been one of your darkest times. That is not the actions of a true friend, and I am deeply sorry.

While I certainly think that things are more complicated now, I believe I'm ready to try and be friends again.

Best,

Y/N”

She quickly sealed the envelope with a press of wax, then gave it to the owl along with a stray carrot she kept around for her own. She felt bad that she had kept the owl waiting for so long, but as it flew off into the darkening sky, she knew she had made the right choice. Keeping Sebastian waiting for a reply till the next day seemed unnecessarily cruel.

Given her work for the day was finished, she decided that she might as well get ready for bed. Ominis had asked for her assistance with something tomorrow, and though she was unsure of the task entailed, she wanted to be well rested.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The next morning, Ominis approached her, as she sat on a bench reading a book. Although it was already after breakfast and she had gone to bed at a decent hour, Y/N hadn't gotten good rest. Truth be told, she was up most of the night, twisting and turning at the thought of Sebastian's letter.

Being friends again was a thought that excited her. She had missed his snarky comments and excitement about activities like crossed wands. But, rebuilding their friendship would also be difficult. Not only did they have to work through their own messes of emotion that were left with the trauma, but also Y/N had to mind her other friends. Based on Poppy's reaction the other day, she figured it might be best to keep the information that she and Sebastian had reconnected to herself.

Y/N was startled from her train of thought when Ominis approached her, and cleared his throat.

“Good morning, Y/N. I appreciate you meeting me here today.”

Smiling up at Ominis, she shut her book and stood.

“Of course. May I ask what it is you want help with?”

Ominis nodded, and then began working towards what Y/N knew to be the entrance to the undercroft. “I was hoping we could finally get the place neatened up a bit. I feel as if we’ve basically abandoned it since the events of 5th year- occurred. One day, some new Hogwarts students may happen upon it, and I want to ensure that we’re setting our best possible foot forward. Is anyone around?” He asked, as they approached the entrance. Y/N glanced around, determining that the coast was clear, and they descended into the opening.

The undercroft had developed a solid layer of dust since they had last visited. Crates were still stacked haphazardly across the floor. The place had once been such a comfort to Y/N, so welcoming. She, Ominis, and Sebastian used to spend hours of their time there, studying, laughing, and simply enjoying each other’s company. Now, it was reduced to simply a storage place.

Y/N glanced over at the triptych, only for a second, as the memories from their escapades 5th year came flooding back. Though she didn’t miss that period of her life, she realized then that she did truly miss how close she and Sebastian had been.

Shaking herself loose, she inquired what Ominis wanted to start cleaning first. Walking forward, she began to rid the space of the crates, replacing them instead with a new set of training dummies. The candles were soon replaced too, with newly conjured unused ones. The two continued working, determined to make the space they once held so dear comfortable again.

Soon enough, the undercroft was sufficiently cleaned to their liking. Y/N had even conjured a few new pieces of furniture, which were scattered around the place. A new couch, with a coffee table and matching chairs, were perhaps the best additions. Y/N and Ominis were certainly thankful for it as they took a break, admiring their work.

“I think it looks great.” Y/N smiled, patting her friend on his hand.

“So do I.” A smile crossed Ominis’s features as Y/N let out a chuckle at his joke.

“I’m sure it does.” She paused for a few seconds, considering her next words carefully. “It doesn’t quite feel right without Sebastian though… Does it?” That earned a curious look from Ominis, who thought for a moment before shaking his head.

“I still have yet to speak to him since everything happened… But I suppose you’re right. It does feel strange to be in here and not hear his quite annoying voice bouncing off the walls.”

Y/N sighed, slightly regretting bringing up the topic, as she knew how heartbroken Ominis had been at Sebastian’s indiscretions. Still, she felt as if they had to discuss it at some point. “Ominis…Have you spoken to Sebastian since it all happened?”

Ominis let out a sigh, his face now turned away from her as he seemed to search his brain for the correct words. “He actually sent me a letter.”

Shock spread over Y/N’s face, as she turned to grab his hand, urging him to continue. “He did…?”

“I- Yes. A couple of days ago. He sent me an owl. Said that he deeply regretted all the pain he had put me through- said he wished that he had been a better friend to me, and listened to my concerns. If I’m being honest… I still haven’t responded. I’m not really sure how to. Part of me wants to forgive him. He was my best friend- but I’m not sure I should… Not after everything.” Y/N could see tears play at the corners of his eyes, as Ominis seemed to contemplate his statements.

“I… that must be difficult. I’m sorry Ominis.” She bit her lip, silently cursing herself for what she was about to say. “Please let me know what you decide to do, I’ll support you either way.”

In some ways, Y/N already knew that was a lie. When it came to Sebastian, she could never find it in herself to be logical. And now, especially since he had apologized to her so sincerely, she could already feel herself slipping back into the grasp of her emotions for him. Truly, she didn’t know what would happen now that Sebastian had sent them both letters… But she hoped for the best.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Later, Y/N returned to her dorm room to find another letter bearing the same crest as yesterday, perched on her desk. She sat down, retrieving her letter opener, hands shaking slightly at the fear of the contents.

“Dear Y/N,

I appreciate your forgiveness more than you could ever imagine, and your apologies, although they are unwarranted.

I’m not quite sure how to approach this “becoming friends again” thing, since I’ve never done it before. So, I suppose I should just start with simple questions: How are classes going for you this semester? Do you still love pumpkin pasties? Are you still afraid of spiders, even fighting off so many of them?

I look forward to your response.

Best,

Sebastian :) “

Y/N smiled to herself at the awkwardness that radiated from his writing. It seemed as if the ever-confident Sebastian Sallow had finally met the match of his charm.

As she sat thinking of a response, her quill twisting in her hand, she considered just how she should approach it if Sebastian asked to meet in person. Ominis still had his own decisions to make regarding forgiving him. Her friends still seemed to feel questionable about him. All factors combined, she felt that it was definitely the right decision to keep the knowledge of their correspondence to herself for a bit until she could figure out how to better approach the situation. She was glad she didn’t admit anything to Ominis.

With that thought through logically, she began working on her letter, eager to send it out before nightfall- Hopefully, that would mean yet another reply from Sebastian that night.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

“Y/N. Thanks for meeting me here- you don’t know how much it means to me.” Sebastian took a step forward in the dim light of the undercroft, reaching out to gently brush a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “You don’t know how much I’ve been hoping that someday you could forgive me. I know I’m horrible, and I’m the last person that deserves your time… But I… I want you to know that I love you.”

The next thing she felt was the press of his lips against her’s. As if on instinct, her arms reached up to wrap around his neck, pulling him down to her height and further into the kiss. Sebastian stalled for a second as she increased the intensity, before eventually catching up by wrapping his arms around her waist, clinging to her as if she was his last shot of life.

Eventually, the kiss broke, and Sebastian studied her eyes. “Y/N… as much as I love you, you need to wake up now.”

Y/N stared at him blankly, her mouth slightly agape. “Sebastian… What do you mean-?”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Next thing Y/N knew, she was sitting stick straight up in her bed, her breath coming in in panic gulps. She surveyed her surroundings, still reeling from the dream that felt more realistic than any dream she had experienced to date. After a few more breaths, she was able to compose herself- that is until she realized that there was more sunlight than usual streaming through her blinds and until she saw the time on her clock.

With ten minutes to make it to potions before she was late, Y/N was sure that she had never managed to get ready so quickly.

When she finally plopped down next to Poppy in her normal seat, the Hufflepuff looked extremely worried. While Y/N could look disheveled from time to time (often a symptom of her many adventures in the highlands), this was a worse state than Poppy had ever seen her in.

Glancing at Sharp first to ensure he was too busy lecturing to notice, Poppy nudged her friend gently, her brown eyes pooled with concern. With a hushed tone, she whispered, “Y/N- Are you okay? Did something happen?”

Y/N looked startled by Poppy speaking to her, but managed to get her bearings back quickly. “I’m fine Poppy- I just had an interesting dream is all. Now let's hush before Sharp yells at us… again.” Poppy nodded in response, but her face was still painted with worry.

But, she relented and tried her best to focus on the complex lesson of yet another potion that she would never have any application for.

Though the lesson lasted for another hour, ‘an hour too long’ Poppy thought, she didn’t forget about her strange interaction with her friend. Not wanting to push her for more information, since that never really seemed to work with Y/N, Poppy decided to discuss the matter with Natty instead.

As students were finally filtering out of the classroom, Poppy made sure to catch up with Natty, gently pulling on her robes to get her attention. “Natty… would you mind having a quick conversation with me? It’s about Y/N… I’m worried.”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Despite the fact that Poppy’s behavior made Y/N feel like she was onto her, Y/N decided to spend the rest of her day as normally as possible. As normally as possible, that is, with thoughts of Sebastian crowding her mind.

She was in a daze throughout all of lunch, barely noticing when Garreth had managed to concoct something that turned a 1st year’s head blue. She could hardly focus through the rest of her classes that day. Even crossed wands couldn’t get her to feign her attention. She barely even reacted when Leander Prewett was shot across the room, which on any other day would have been the highlight of her day.

Instead, she waited for the hours to pass, since the thoughts didn’t seem to. His lips, his hands, his smile, his messy brown hair - each minute detail that made him up. She begged for time to speed up, hoping that the sweet relief of sleep might free her from her mental prison.

By the time she finally made it back to her dorm, she hardly even wanted to open the letter that Sebastian had sent that evening. But, given it was now a cherished part of her routine, she felt as if she should.

There was nothing substantial in it, especially compared to where her thoughts of him had been leading. Instead, it was simply a continuation of the conversation they had been having the previous evening- a drabble about the Holyhead Harpies, and various other quidditch teams. One’s they had both followed during their fifth year. Discussions of quidditch had been a sweet relief during the torment of those long months. Despite not having ever played the game herself, Y/N felt connected to it- truth be told Sebastian’s enthusiasm for the sport probably had something to do with her sudden interest during fifth year.

Y/N wrote a quick reply, figuring he was owed at least that, before resigning herself to going to bed. She readied herself for sleep hurriedly, craving the sweet release of a free mind.

Only it wouldn’t come. Instead, her mind was riddled with even more intense thoughts of him. Of his hands on her, touching her places that no one had before. His hands running down her form, savoring her curves. A thumb, gently caressing her cheek. And, perhaps worst of all, his fingers tracing letters on her thigh. With a shiver going down her spine, she realized he was spelling out “mine”.

Eventually, Y/N woke at 3 am, her mind likely deciding that it couldn’t bear any more of the torment her mind had to offer. After a few minutes of tossing and turning, it seemed pointless to try to sleep again. Trying to set herself to something productive, she realized that she did need a few potion ingredients - specifically ones that were harder to procure. Specifically, ones that required a trip to one of the places Hogwarts students were not allowed to go: the Forbidden Forest.

“Well,” she murmured to herself, “might as well go while I’m least likely to be caught.” Once she had made her decision, she set to prepare herself. A thick coat, scarf, and socks per usual, and a couple of extra wiggenwelds for good measure.

Thankfully the common room was deserted as she decided to take the floo flame, opting to land near the entrance to the forbidden forest.

Perhaps youthful ignorance was why she never felt scared of the area - after all, it was significantly more dangerous than staying in the castle. But Y/N was always confident in her ability to defend herself. Never once had she wanted to be considered a fragile flower. Thus, even though the area was eerily quiet, enough so to give her momentary pause, she decided to continue.

She had begun her way through the forest, quickly picking out a couple of the ingredients she needed for her stock. For some reason, she always found foraging calming. Perhaps it was because it was an activity that always seemed to take her thoughts off the tumultuous events during 5th year.

She leaned down, collected some mushrooms with a few swipes of her pocket knife and placed them into her pouch. Yes, of course, she could have used her wand, but sometimes she felt the use of muggle tools was more therapeutic. It made her feel more connected to the plants that she was oh-so-carefully collecting.

She made her way deeper and deeper into the forest until she began to have the off-putting feeling that something or someone was following her. At this point, the heavy tree cover had completely blotted out the lights from Hogwarts. She cast her gaze around and when she failed to detect anyone she continued her trek until she stumbled upon a poacher camp.

Quickly disillusioning herself, she fel into a crouch behind a tree, studying the scene before her. There only looked to be 2 or 3 poachers at the camp, with a puffskin gently whining in a cage off to the left side. Y/N winced when a poacher approached it and kicked it.

“Oi, quit your yapping.” He yelled at the poor beast, who trembled under the gaze of his captor. Y/N decided then that they would be an easy target.

She moved a bit closer, before revealing herself. The first two barely stood a chance against her, as she quickly transfigured one into a barrel and sent him flying towards the other. The third one wasn’t so easy it turned out.

Out of nowhere, five more figures appeared. A couple more poachers… And a couple of Ashwinders. Y/N ducked, letting out a yelp as she barely avoided being sliced in half by a diffindo thrown her way.

Though Y/N had faced much worse than this (she had taken down Ranrok, after all), she knew this battle was going to be difficult. Her lack of sleep and stress over the double life she was once again living were eating at her in strange ways. She felt herself growing weaker, trying her best to conjure up her ancient magic. To her dismay, the power didn’t want to respond. She tried her best, managing to take down the other poachers with a clever combo. But when an incarerous managed to hit her, she went tumbling to the ground, hitting her head hard.

The last thing she saw before everything went black was a flash of messy brown hair, green robes, and warm brown eyes that could only belong to one person.

Sebastian.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

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gremlinmodetweeker · 2 months

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Kiss the Ocean Kiss Yourself

So, sorry about not posting original content in a while. I'm between homes right now, so I only just got to a place where I can actually write fanfic and so I completely indulged because I'm a whore for König.

Anyways, enjoy some sweet adorable fluff with Summoned!König. Just a lil first kiss kinda fluff, ya know? The adorable sweet stuff.

Anyways, story below the cut.

SFW

No TWs apply

Kiss the Ocean Kiss Yourself

You figured it was useless to try and find patterns in an avatar of chaos’s schedule, but you'd somehow managed to figure out one significant trend.

Every night, without fail, König would rise up out of a shadow in the corner of your eye. Tonight he choose one cast by a curtain by an open window. You’d need to shut that later.

You greeted him with a wave of your hand before going back to your reading.

A hand draped over your shoulder, “And what are you reading today, Summoner?”

“Fanfics,” you muttered as you scrolled.

König gave a displeased hum as he strolled to your side.

“I suggest you read something more… “ König thought for a moment, “substantial.”

“I'm going to bed. I don't want to learn,” you reasoned.

“And so you read… What do you call it… Smut?” König leaned over your shoulder with an inquisitive squint.

“Yeah?” you scrolled up desperately to prevent him from reading the raunchiest part, but it was in vain.

“You could always ask for my assistance instead of turning to this,” König turned to whisper in your ear.

You shoved his face away with a spare hand.

König made a strange oceanic gurgling sound before rounding the sofa to sit beside you. He draped himself over you, nearly suffocating you in the folds of his dark robes.

“Dude, I'm reading!” you squawked and thrashed against him.

“They both die in the last chapter,” König caught your swat and batted it away just as easily.

You put away the screen with a sigh. At this point, you should just give up on trying. He'd successfully ruined three fanfics for you so far, all within the past two days. You fell back in his arms with a slump.

“You could just ask me to put it away, you know,” you grumbled as he pulled you into his side.

“This is far more entertaining,” König sniffed.

“I hate you.”

“You should stop lying to me, Summoner. It does not work.”

“I know!” you groaned as you burrowed into his robes.

König adjusted to let you fall into his lap. He stroked your hair gently, letting you relax under his touch. He wordlessly widened his legs and dragged you into his lap properly to cradle you against his chest. You rest your head against his chest, listening to his three heartbeats drumming a steady beat under his skin.

“Do you get cold a lot?” you asked as you curled your hands in his soft woolen robes.

“A bit,” König replied before pulling you close, “it's warmer with you by my side.”

You couldn't stop the smile that crept onto your lips.

Your relationship with the avatar was complicated. You were his mate, but you still found the title to be heavy and unnerving. However, the longer you spent in the avatar's company, the more comfortable you felt in his arms. At one point you'd suspected he was manipulating your mind, but you figured that worrying about that would only lead to undesirable truths, and so thus accepted his attention for what it was. Without a second thought, you cuddled into your ‘mate’s’ chest and basked in his unholy radiance.

You felt a few tentacles crawling over you to trace soft and intricate loving patterns into your skin. In turn, you rubbed his chest with tender affection. It was a new, blossoming thing that had grown from underneath the floorboards, but you nourished it all the same. It was a nice change from the eternal loneliness you'd wallowed in before you'd summoned your new partner.

You looked up at Königs face, or rather, his hood. If you squinted, you could see ancient writings embroidered into the hood, miniscule characters spelling certain doom for eons to come. You timidly reached up to touch the writings, feel them under your fingertips, but your arm was grabbed by a scaly talon. Ice blue eyes stared down at you coldly.

“I wouldn't suggest that,” König whispered, airs of ominous threats lacing his words.

“Why?” you asked as you let your hand fall.

“Your simple mind cannot handle what lies beneath.”

You frowned.

“I am sorry, but you were not made to comprehend my visage,” König reassured you gently, “please understand that I wish to keep my mate alive and well.”

You nodded slowly. It hurt, but you figured something like this would happen. You sighed and slumped down in his lap.

“Summoner, why do you seem so sad?” König raised your chin with a scaled claw.

You whimpered, then asked, “So does that mean I can't kiss you?”

For the first time since you'd summoned him, König looked surprised. Maybe, even though he was able to see all the pathways of time and how they folded in on themselves, he still wasn’t able to prophesize the future like he tried to tell you he could. He seemed so taken aback that you had to call his name to bring him back to you.

“Do you wish to?” he asked with an uncharacteristic fervor.

He took your chin in his hand to guide you to look into his eyes. You tried to look away but he kept you in place firmly, his eyes searching desperately for answers.

You looked up at him. His eyes were wide and the script on his hood was writhing with the beating of his hearts like worms in the earth. You could see a ghostly impression of eyes haloing his head, each one looking at you as though you were a divine gift.

You reached up to tenderly cup what you hoped would be his cheek.

“I want to try.”

König blinked, and then leaned back to stare at the ceiling in thought. He drummed his black claws gently against your shoulder and hummed. After a minute, he nodded and looked down.

“I can take a human form, but it might not be… It might not be perfect,” he looked nervous under his ancient hood.

“What do you mean?” you asked as you drew your hands to your chest.

“As in…” König hissed inhumanly, “I can mimic, but only just.”

“Could you try though?” you asked hopefully.

König thought for a moment, then nodded. He wrapped his palms over his face and sighed, but the sound was drowned out by fleshy pops and brittle snaps. You tried to hide your wince but failed miserably. It seemed to go on forever, but just as soon as it started, it stopped.

He dropped his hands to secure one around your back, the other laying on your stomach.

“I have done what I can,” he said, the sclera of his eyes now an iridescent oily black.

You reached up slowly before pulling back.

“May I?” you asked, to which he conceded a nod.

You reached up again. The edges of his hood were worn in your hands, and you took a moment to enjoy the silk under the light.

“It's beautiful,” you told him.

His chest rumbled like thunder as he chuckled and replied, “It is nearly as old as I am. I've used it to cover myself since I can remember.”

“Even in the other world?” you asked.

“Especially in the other,” König affirmed.

You wanted to ask more questions, but you had bigger tasks. Namely, getting this hood off. With the task set in your mind, you slowly raised the hood.

The first thing you saw was a rounded jaw covered in blond stubble. You were about to comment on how normal he looked when you saw the stubble wave. It dawned on you that the stubble was actually tiny thin tentacles on his face, mimicking hair to the best of its abilities.

“Does your face normally have tentacles?” you asked.

“Sometimes,” König let you raise the hood higher, “but I'm concerned about the mouth. Are the teeth okay?”

You were about to laugh when you saw his mouth. His lips were thin and chapped. As he spoke, you could see multiple rows of needle-like teeth along the inside of his mouth like an unearthly sea creature. A couple jutted out along the top, looking somewhat like vampire fangs.

“Your teeth are a bit sharp,” you admitted with a wince.

“Do you want me to change them?”

You considered the notion, only to shake away the thought of having to listen to him change again. You could tolerate some sharp teeth.

“Can I take the rest of the hood off?” you asked.

“Do as you like.”

And so you did. You raised the hood and tucked it into your lap as you admired his new face.

“You look…” you brushed your hand along his jaw, “more handsome than I expected, honestly.”

He smiled with a huge grin full of teeth.

“I hoped so.”

You took a hand and brushed it through his short, messy wheat blonde hair. If it weren't so unkempt, it might have been a nice military cut. At least it was within regulations, you supposed. It was nice and thick, too.

He scrunched his thick eyebrows together as he looked into your eyes.

“Are you sure this is to your standards?” his pointed ears flicked back with concern.

“I think you look incredible,” you pressed a kiss against the tip of his slender crooked nose.

König’s eyes widened before he smiled warmly.

“I am glad, Summoner.”

You tugged on the back of his neck to bring him down to your level. He obliged and leaned in close. From here, you could see the fragile emotions he'd tried to hide from you for so long. All the longing and fear was practically shining before your eyes.

Without wasting any more time, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his.

It was awkward, and frankly his breath smelled worse than you expected. It was hot and acrid like an ocean shore, and his teeth pinched into your lips, but you'd do anything to kiss him again. It was too short, too sweet for your liking. You wanted to do it again.

You leaned in and kissed him with passion, this time focussing on how he struggled to mimic your motions. It seemed all his experiences with immortality had left him unprepared for this event. You remembered how lonely he told you he was. Your heart cracked.

The second kiss was longer, but not long enough.

You pulled away and held his face in your hands, cherishing what you never knew you had. Seeing him like this, it made you wonder if being his mate would be so bad after all. He wasn't extraordinary, but you wouldn't have wanted any more anyways. He was perfect to you, and that's what mattered in your mind.

Of course, you couldn't hold him forever, so you let him lean back and kiss your forehead as you huddled into him.

“I've wanted this for so long,” he murmured into your skin.

“I'm sorry I made you wait.”

He laughed and kissed you again, “It was worth every moment.”

You wanted to stay with him forever, to keep this moment alive for eternity, but time was not so kind to you. A yawn made its way from within, and your eyes were droopy as you laid your face against his chest. You fought valiantly, but you could only fight for so long before he decided to make decisions for you.

“We can be together tomorrow, Summoner,” he assured you as he rose to his feet, keeping you tucked against his chest like a precious gift.

“I don't want this to end,” you admitted sleepily.

“It doesn't have to,” he promised, “I can see you again tomorrow.”

He set you down on your bed and pulled the covers over you. You grabbed his arm before he could pull it away.

“Can you stay with me tonight? you asked with your last burst of energy.

König let himself still as he thought carefully. For a moment, you worried that he'd vanish into the shadows like so many nights before. But instead, he nodded.

He curled into your bed behind you, tucking you tightly against his body as you felt yourself drifting away. Soon, his warmth enshrouded you like the star lit sky, pulling you into a slumbering darkness.

He held you close to his body, embracing all parts of you under the covers.

“Thank you,” you heard yourself say.

“Sleep well, my mate,” you felt another kiss pressed to your cheek before you succumbed to sleep, “I will be with you always.”

AU Masterlist

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karteinss · 11 months

Text

Co-workers.

Top Male! Reader x Sub! Scara

Unreliable Narrator/Outsider's perspective, original female character, and male reader.

Cw: bottom scara & slight nsfw.

M/n and Scaramouche were polar opposites, nothing of them matches up but they did have one thing in common; Wanting to become the Employee of the year.

M/n was a bright handsome young man, always loyal and obedient (or so their boss thought), almost never missing a day at work. He was loud but generous, a fun guy to hang out but he could also have a serious side to him.

Meanwhile, Scara was a rather cold but pretty man, a quite intimidating figure in the office. Though he holds no authority of a higher figure, his face and cold tone was intimidating enough for anyone to look away, afraid to make him angry.

The only way they would "interact" was through their rivalry. Insane, right? That's what Celine thought when she first entered their department.

It really was a tiring job, not only did she do overtime often but she has to do it with those 2, making it even more struggling and painful.

She really wishes she could've been put in another department, to do overtime in peace at least.

She was tired and absolutely annoyed at both of them in the first year of her job but as another year passed by, she got used to it.

But it didn't mean that she didn't get tired of listening to their bickering, it could lead to “physical” fights if they go far enough which she herself had to stop..

She was just like their nanny, an underpaid one to be exact.

For those who are asking: No, the HR doesn't know a thing about this since they always fought at places where the security cameras couldn't see.

And none of the other employees decided to snitch on them— Let's just say that they were too afraid.

The amount of stress she gained was abnormal from just listening to them bickering!

She should get paid for doing such a job so torturous.

Celine was just doing some work peacefully, writing documents and other things an average worker with a minimum wage salary would do. Well, her peaceful and quiet atmosphere was short-lived when she suddenly heard a loud crash in the Janitor's closet.

Ah, fuck, they're at it again.

Celine walked towards the Janitor's closet and she was right— Inside, there was M/n on top of Scara, their clothes were slightly messy.

God, when will they ever stop fighting?

Celine just sighed, “What are you both doing? You should be doing your work, not fight. Stand up” Celine commanded, her voice sounded threatening but there was barely any intimidation in her voice.

As they both stood up, she saw red-blue marks on their skins.

Damn, how far did those bastards go? Celine was confused, they would always fight “Physically” but they were never badly injured.

As she was still rambling inside her head, M/n talked first.

“He started it first.”

The accusation made Scara's eyes widened as he yelled.

“WHAT!? NO I DIDN'T!” Scara responds with a loud yell, which made M/n smirk. “Yes you did, you dragged me here first, no?” He said calmly, meanwhile, Scara looked so angry and red— red from embarrassment, maybe.

Scara tries to respond back but he stays silent, he just walked right out of the Janitor's Closet with his ears and cheeks painted a light red.

He must've been embarrassed.

As Celine watched Scara walk out, M/n suddenly whispers; “Don't tell the HR or anyone about this, it was just a friendly fight, no worries.” M/n whispered but a small smirk was visible on his face as he too went out of the closet.

Well, AT LEAST M/n was slightly better than Scara in terms of personality.

Though, she often questions if their dynamic was healthy or not— They get into physical fights often, isn't that too extreme?

She lets out an exaggerated sigh as she too left the Janitor's closet to resume her work—

She wonders if they truly hate each other.

“Celine, they're fighting again...” Her colleague pointed out, it was in the middle of the day, it was only 1pm and this was the 3rd time today! Not to mention it was a goddamn Monday! Could her day just get any worse?

“I know, just let them be” She responds calmly, too tired of their bullshit as she continues writing a document.

“M/n is dragging scara somewhere—”

A slam could be heard from Celine's table as Celine immediately walked over to them, grabbing Scara's arm to pull him back.

“You will NOT fight in this office, fight elsewhere.” Celine said to M/n as she dragged Scara from M/n's grasp and dragged him back to his chair.

“Work, don't fight, this is an office.” Celine said as she left both Scara and M/n stunned.

“We're not fighting! I just wanted to talk to him privately—”

“Is it work related?”

That seemed to stun M/n as he went quiet.

“No...It isn't.” M/n says truthfully, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Find an appropriate time to do it, then. Office hours aren't supposed to be time for you both to start a petty fight” Celine was getting more and more tired of them, she was hoping this was the last time they'll fight for such petty reasons.

“Right, sorry..I won't do it again” M/n apologizes as Celine nods. “You too, Scara.” She also told him, Scara just silently nodded she finally went back to her seat in peace.

Hopefully this will be the last time they fight.

A few weeks have passed since then and one day, M/n didn't come to work which was unusual since he never missed any days of work. But the more unusual thing is that Scara didn't come to work either— This should've been an advantage for Scara but apparently, he too didn't come to work.

“Weird” Celine thought to herself, maybe it was just a simple coincidence.

Well, atleast she would have some peace for a day.

No, it was just a coincidence.

Every goddamn time one of them gets sick, the other doesn't come to work either.

It can't just be a mere coincidence, right?

Curiosity killed the cat as Celine finally decided to ask both of them why they don't come to work when the other was sick.

And all they answered was;

“I want to make the rivalry fair”

That didn't stop her curiousity at all!

It seems out of character for those two bastards who literally fight every goddamn time they even lay their eyes on each other.

But hey, at least Celine has the peace she always longed for on those days.

It was just a normal Friday night for Celine, overtime in the office again, stuck with those two bastards and some other colleagues which Celine thanked God for.

The good thing is she gets paid for this shit, which is a good thing but she secretly wishes for more pay— A fee for taking care of those delinquents who kept trying to bite into each other's necks.

It was always; “He started it first!” this or “He doesn't deserve to be employee of the year!” that, well turns out none of them were employee of the year, Celine was.

At least her efforts paid off but it was a headache of trying to comfort an upset M/n and an annoyed Scara...God, those two were like the Sun and the moon.

As Celine was rambling inside of her head, she didn't notice how the sky became darker. She glanced at the office computer and saw how it was already time for her to leave, she looked at the left and right sides of her to notice how both Scara and M/n were both gone.

Oh no, those fuckers were probably at it again.

She hurriedly tries to look for them in every nook and cranny, she couldn't find anyone to help her as she realized her other colleagues had already left as she panicked.

They could be in a massive fight, oh god. What if they try to kill each other and one of them tries to kill her too???

All those negative thoughts were making Celine's head spin, but she still tried to look for them despite her fear of possibly getting killed by one of those psychos.

She searched and searched and finally— She stood in front of the Men's bathroom, there's no way she's going to do this right? Celine was reconsidering her decision, will it be like those true crime documentaries where she'll get brutally killed in the bathroom!? This was the men's bathroom, what if someone saw her and thought she was a huge ass pervert?

All those thoughts kept running throughout her head, but she stopped to listen into the bathroom as she heard a...whimper?

There was definitely someone there.

She placed her ear next to the door, trying to hear what was happening inside.

She heard...sounds of pain? Moans? Groans?

Then, she heard a voice like Scara screaming and begging to do whatever the other person was doing to him.

“M/n..! S-stopngh—”

Oh my fucking God.

M/N WAS A MURDERER.

What if she barges in and gets killed too in the process?

What if M/n found out she was eavesdropping and was brutally murdered?

What if..

What if!?

All of those “What if” questions kept repeating inside of her head as if she was back in 5th grade studying about WH-Questions.

God, she didn't like Scara but she didn't want him dead...

There's no other choice but to barge in.

As Celine starts to bang on the door, trying to communicate with Scara by screaming— She stopped when M/n finally opened the door and to her surprise; He wasn't covered in blood, rather, he was covered in sweat and some sort of...liquid? Not to mention, his clothes were messy like it had just been put on.

Did...did she misunderstand the situation?

She was speechless and embarrassed, as M/n suddenly coughs and talks.

“Hey um..do you mind leaving us alone? I..I promise you I'm not a murderer”

That's something a murderer would say!

“And why should I?” Celine responds back, leaving M/n sweating nervously. He stepped aside to show a somewhat perfectly fine Scara but he too was drenched in sweat, his clothes were a mess though.

“Oh...”

Did Celine interrupt something?

“Y-yeah uh...Please leave us alone...I want to talk to him privately”

Oh...

“Yeah...uhm, sure. Sorry.” Celine apologized as she quickly took her leave in embarrassment, so she misunderstood everything!?

They looked like a mess, and they were drenched in sweat. Were they exercising?

What the hell were they doing in there?

All those thoughts were repeating again and again as she quickly packed up her bag and turned off the office lights.

As she passed the same men's Bathroom, she could've sworn she heard a loud moan.

She doesn't want to know what they're doing.

#sub character #top male reader #dom reader #genshin impact #genshin fanfic #drabbles #shorts #sub scaramouche #bottom scaramouche

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itsabea · 18 days

Text

Drunk!March x Reader who doesn't drink

Description: When you get given some beer from your favourite Blacksmith on a Friday night, who are you to say no? Well, part of you does, since you've never really had alcohol before.

Warnings: slight angst at the end(i didn't mean to- i swear!!), alcohol, swearing, slight social pressure to drink(inflicted by reader),

thank @xxoomiii for getting my brain in a writing mood from her writing. the piece is here for those interested :))

this ended up changing so much from my original idea of "two people getting drunk" to "social anxiety about not drinking alcohol" because i just dont like alcohol- imsorryyyy- i didn't mean to turn it into angst..!!

You were so ready to have a night at the Inn today. That day was filled with farming, foraging, and fishing, and you were so ready to put down your 'Town Helper' hat and put on your oh, so lovely 'Tired, Rest Needing Citizen' hat.

When you entered the Inn, everyone was doing their own group activities or mingling already. Instead of going to the first group you saw after entering like usual, you decided to take in the whole room for a moment before letting out a heavy sigh. This is exactly what you needed; the cosy atmosphere, the sound of lively chatter, and the tight-knit community of people that were all so welcoming- Well, almost everyone.. But that exception would no doubt be drunk off his chair and have the most joyous grin in the room plastered on his face.

And without a second of delay, you heard March call out to you like clockwork. "Heeyyyy..!! C'mere, c'mere- Haave a drink!" March slurred out after somehow both whining and singing your name.

March's words worked like a charm anyway, having you head to him with a slight eye roll and humoured smile as you went. The thing is, you were quite fond of March- Exceedingly more so when he was drunk, which was a fact you didn't like very much. But either way, something about him had you intrigued and interested in him.

At first it was simply platonic curiosity, like how a scientist would want to test their theory. Only, it didn't stay that way for long, and now you had a much stronger emotion tailing you; having you think about him on a near daily basis.

And now it was a sad routine you'd partake in on a weekly basis: talk to March and get insulted, talk to March and get a huff as reply, talk to March and get told to get out of his way, talk to March and get insulted once again.. And then there was the one day of the week that when you talked to him, he wasn't a complete ass.

It made Friday's so much nicer, even though you still knew it was likely fake.. But at this point you would take whatever you could get.

Scooting in next to March, you smiled at him and pushed back your previous thoughts. "Hey, March. How many drinks are you on now?" You asked with a cheeky grin, only for March to grin back and hold his head up high. "Ten." He said confidently, which only made you burst out laughing at his blatant lie.

"He's on his second beer now." Hemlock clarified by half whispering to you from over bar. After you smiled and nodded at Hemlock as a small thanks, you turned your attention back to March, hoping to have a non insult filled conversation- But you froze, smile dropping when March spoke up.

"Oh, hey! We should get you a drink..! Hey Hemlock, can you get us another beer??" March said, smiling away like an idiot as Hemlock denied him the drink. "Finish the one you've got and if you're still standing we'll talk, March." He said, frowning slightly as March clarified. "No, no..! Not for me." March smile out, pointing to you as Hemlock agreed and set out a beer in front of you.

You didn't quite know what to do.. You've never really drunken alcohol before - apart from the time that you first tried it alone and thought it was disgusting. Should you decline and apologise? Or should you just get it over with and try the dreaded beverage again? After all, it might taste different, and it was March that was paying..

You took an experimental sip, and it defintiely tasted just as bad as when you had first tried alcohol. It was just so.. Yeugh that it made you wonder why people even drink the stuff. So much so that you took another, much smaller, sip to make sure it didn't have a hidden taste to it..

Nope! The before taste, during taste, and after taste were all bad. And after having made he face of slight disgust, you heard March laugh slightly from beside you.

"Hahaha..!! Do you like wine or somethin'??" He asked, making you pout slightly and shift in your seat uncomfortably. "No.. I haven't tried it.." You said, looking down at the beer in your hands with a frown. Maybe if you drank some more, you'd end up liking- "But if you don't like beer and haven't tried wine.." March said, trailing off as he gave himself a moment for his thoughts to catch up to his words.

You decided to give the guy a break and answer for him, not prepared for the reaction you were about to get. "I don't drink.." You mumbled out as March's brain cogs seeming to stop, only to start up again to take in your words. "You don't.. Drink.." He repeated, making you slouch in on yourself in embarrassment. "Oh...." March exclaimed, frowning deeply as you sighed.

This wasn't how your night was supposed to go.. You were supposed to be enjoying yourself, not getting all nervous over some stupid, horrid tasting drink. Part of you wanted to leave.. But the next thing March said kept you in your seat.

open ended?? part 2????

idk but thats it for now cause i'm tired and can't deal with much angst in my word diet(i really didn't mean for this to take that kind of turn.. it was supposed to be fun....!)

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wanderingblindly · 2 months

Note

for the ask game — ✄ for the (no homo) girlfriend guide? :)

(ask game) (original fic)

In today’s continued episode of: where are the worst places liquid could write, enjoy this hot off the stairmaster steps lmaooooooo

Lando lets his back rest against the hospitality wall, welcoming the brief moment of reprieve during the media day madness. He nods at some members of the team as they walk by, fishing out his phone on instinct.

He flips open Instagram, closing it immediately and opening his texts out of habit. His fingers linger on the screen for a moment, mind finally catching up to his auto pilot.

His thumb hovers over Oscar’s name.

What the fuck is he doing?

It’s not weird to text his teammate. But at the same time, what’s he even going to text Oscar about? Where are you? He’s not his fucking PR manager, he’s not Kim. Why would he care where Oscar’s off to?

I’m bored? Again, they’re not, well. They’re not really friends like that, are they? Sure, if he clicks on their messages, the last things he’ll see are a good morning text from Oscar and his accidentally-erotic sexts but like. They’re not quite mates, are they?

It’s just the bet, just Lando’s undying urge to shift his nose where it doesn’t belong, that keeps Oscar glued to his hip these days. And sometimes that glue has to snap, sometimes Oscar has to go handle work duties and chat with Logan afterwards.

His chest aches.

It’s because he’s not good at not being the center of attention, probably. Certainly. Obviously.

He shoves his phone back in his pocket with a mental huff, not losing his dignity by actually doing it. The front door opens as he pushes off from the wall, Oscar strolling in alongside his side of the garage — the lot of them giggling, talking about some video they got him to film in the garage.

Lando raises his hand to wave, freezing when Oscar doesn’t look at him.

Oh.

He drops it, pulling his phone back out as some stupid self defense mechanism. Maybe he was just reaching into his pocket the entire time, no one needs to know what he’s up to. With renewed determination, he opens Instagram again, angrily liking a few comments from fans that all look the same and feel the same: like Oscar’s ignoring him.

First of all, he’s the one that should be ignoring Oscar, he’s the one that has his whorish — well, no, that’s just rude. He pulls a face.

God, what the fuck is he doing?

Oscar’s, quite literally, right there. He’s still in the hospitality. From his peripheral, Lando’s fairly positive he’s even in the same room, just on the other side. Getting a coffee, probably. Still half asleep at 3pm, probably. He’d scoff if he wasn’t so agitated.

His free hand wanders, the corner of his thumb finding his teeth with anxious vigor. He tears at the skin, the sting doing little to distract him from… this. Whatever this is.

He could just go talk to him.

But god, wouldn’t that just be clingy? He was here first, it would look like he was waiting for him. Which he was, probably, but that’s not the point. The point is the optics, the fact that it would *seem* like he’s waiting on his teammate, that they’re best mates when clearly Oscar doesn’t care. And that, being the one chasing, that can’t happen.

Fuck, but is it true?

His thumb is bleeding, the sharp zing of iron reaching his tongue.

“Fuck,” He mutters, pulling it away and assessing the damage.

“Interviews that tough?” Oscar’s voice, light with suppressed laughter, snaps him to attention — phone and thumb long forgotten.

“What?”

“You’re nervous?” He nods at Lando’s hand, brows a little furrowed, frown at the corner of his lips. “Jon know you do that?”

“Shove it,” Lando tries to bristle, more embarrassed than mad at Oscar’s prying.

Oscar holds out a paper cup between them, thumb mindfully pressing at the teabag string, keeping it from slipping in. ”Chamomile’s pretty soothing, I think.”

Oh.

Lando’s feels his stomach drop to the floor. Their fingers brush awkwardly when he takes it.

“Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

Oscar steps to the side, leaning against the wall alongside Lando. Neither knows what to say, so they just. Don’t.

But maybe that’s better than nothing.

#I like to think this sits before the sexting scene and the subsequent hard cut to after the sprint ????#it doesn’t fit PERFECTLY but pretend it does thanks 💖💖💖#and thank you for asking lovely!!!!#ask me :)#liqfic #lando Norris’s (no homo) guide to getting a girlfriend #landoscar #landoscar fanfic #f1 fic

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soothinglee · 17 days

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| shitty 808s - kim jongseob x gn! reader - 1.2k wc✔︎

my notes⎯ sorry for not writing in a bit- I got hit by a scooter and lost hearing in my left eye. anyway- enjoy! (ilovejongseobsm). also the reader is younger than jongseob- so they're the maknae! warnings⎯ lowercase intended, cursing, not really proofread, I don't know jackshit about making music- I do make it just for fun but I don't know it on a professional level. songs⎯ "take you there x no bs" | dj short and "trillions" | alicia keys

“dude this sounds like shit.”

“it’s literally only 808s. it’s not going to sound good.”

“tell that to carti.”

jongseob groans and relaxes his body into the creaky studio chair. from where he's at; body slouches and neck bent, he feebly grabs for the mouse, each time he reaches he just barely misses it- giving a pitiful grunt every time.

you slap his hand away playfully, scooting your chair over in his place to play with the track. in the 30 minutes you've been in the studio you only managed the 808s. ass, in your opinion but something to start the song off as a base.

"what are you doing?" he mutters, looking towards the desktop screen. the black background of the software lights up every time you move around tracks. the purple and blue sections reflect off his glasses, "stop pressing stuff, you're gonna mess it up."

a scoff leaves your lips absentmindedly, choosing to replace the pre-made 808s with a original. you play it back for a spilt second- nodding to yourself feeling content in your work.

"you should be thankful I'm helping you," you start, adding a few high hats some measures into the song, "today is my off day and youngji just came out with a new episode."

he rolls his eyes and reaches over to grab his water bottle, he uncaps it and throws the lid on your lap. you make no effort to move it, "you would've had to come in eventually. jiung needed you today to record your verse."

you reach over to twitch your hand infront of his bottle, as if faking him out. he jerks his body away from you quickly, the water shakes in his hand- some even coming from the top and onto his sweater.

"bro." it comes out weak and quiet, a frown forming on his lips but you're quick to talk over him;

"for him, I wouldn't have complained. it's different when I have to do it because it's scheduled then come in to help someone work on his song." you spilt the back ground voices you added from files and slip in theo's guitar solo along with a 4 bar bass drum.

at this point you haven't listened to what has been added, jongseob still hogging the headphones. though you have enough confidence in yourself, and as one of the main producers, to know that the song will be somewhat decent- and way better than whatever he had before.

"what even is your inspo?"

"'bambi', baekhyun."

he makes a face, "sexy, no?"

you shrug, clicking around on the application to add some reverb, "piece will love it, fnc will tolerate it, intak will be happy. what more is there?"

he doesn't respond.

the difference between the software when jongseob had it compared to it in your hands is insane. infront of you the screen decorated with rainbows of colors, the static lines tracking the sound range from lengths and size. it's beautiful.

you feel a heavy weight on your left arm and look down to see jongseob leaning on you, he lets out a tired breath, and reaches up to fiddle with the loose string on your sleeve.

"are you almost done yet? you're hogging my equipment and I have other stuff I need to do."

"is all you do is complain?" you ask, titling the song with a random phrase and saving it, "because if that's the case I'll just get keeho."

his grip on your sleeve tightens as he tenses. for some reason jongseob is afraid of keeho- the latter always picking on him and fighting him. you would ask why and how it started but in all honesty, you couldn't really care.

"no no no, it's okay. you can keep working."

a proud smirk graces your lips as you reach over to slip the headphones off his head. he lets you, reaching forward to give you better access, smiling when he feels your hands pat down the mess they left.

you bend down slightly, apologizing when his head falls from your shoulder, and blindly reach for the tower to unplug the cord from its socket. "alright," you mess with the setting once more, turning the volume up enough so it can be heard. "you ready?"

jongseob yawns, "about time." you smack him upside the head.

the song is only about 3 minutes long, but in that three minutes it sounded wonderful. even though you were on playing around with it, something to keep jongseob satisfied until he could figure out what he really wanted to do with it, you think it could actually be the final product.

as the song plays you would take a look at his face to gauge his opinion. he seemed to like it; bobbing his head with the melody, a soft smile on his lips. it made you feel somewhat better about missing youngjis' show.

"okay, what do you think?" you ask as the beat fades out, you pause it so it doesn't play again and turn your body towards him, knees knocking each other.

he doesn't say anything for a minute, staring at the poster on the wall behind your head. his face is back to neutral. you think about snapping your fingers infront of his face to wake him up.

after a while he takes in a breath and says, “buns, actual buns.”

“you’re only saying that because it’s not jiung working on the song.”

he doesn't say anything but nods in agreement. there's a cheeky smirk on his face. "if that's the case, I'll just delete the song." you move the mouse to press erase before a hand catches you before you do.

"don't." he says, a mild glint in his eye as he pries your fingers from the mouse. he gently places your hand back in your lap while maintaining eye contact, moving the device to his side of the table.

"so it's not 'buns'?" you ask, the smirk back on your face.

he hesitates and then says, "no it's still ass, but why would I delete it just to start over, waste of time."

you laugh and go to answer but your phone vibrating catches you off guard. you use your face to open it to read the message;

멘토르 (mentor) come to floor 4 pls, we're ready for you :)

"uh oh," the chair beneath you slides backward as you stand up to collect your belonging. the bottle cap falls from your lap as you hand jongseob his headphones, "duty calls, i'll be gone for about an hour or two, if you need me, don't. I'll be busy."

he laughs, watching as you put on your shoes. you places a kiss on his head as you retreat for the door. you hear the clicking of a mouse and muffled music from behind you.

as soon as you reach for the door knob a voice calls out. "yeah?"

jongseob, hood pulled back so that you can see the bangs of his brown hair, his glasses that reflect the sparkle in his eyes, and the big smile on his face says, "I know I give you shit but thank you. you saved me a lot of trouble."

you smile back at your elder, a content look matching his own, "hey, anytime."

you close the door and head towards the elevator.

⎯if you want to be apart of my taglist let me know!

→ thank you for reading!

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emotionallychargedtowel · 7 months

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Hira's parents and his self-defeating tendencies

I was talking to @sorry-bonebag and @wen-kexing-apologist about what role Hira's parents might have played in creating the weirdness he displays throughout both seasons of Utsukushii Kare & Eternal. I started writing a response and it got too long and, well, now it's a post.

Before I talk about Hira's parents and the tendencies in him that they helped to create, I want to note that family of origin is just one of the influences that form us as people. Parents and caregivers have a huge influence, as do other family members. But so do peers. The bullying about his disability that Hira experiences nearly constantly is one of the biggest influences on his personality.

Hira's parents appear extremely briefly at the very beginning of the series. His mom fusses a bit about him being on his own and his dad is very "he has to take care of himself sometime" about it. We know they took him to specialists for his dysphemia, bought him his camera, etc.

Their departure is a show thing, by the way, and isn't present in the novel. In the novel they continue to live with him through high school and, if I remember correctly, part of college. But they don't play a big role in his life. The main things that happen involving them are either instances of Hira hiding things from them (or attempting to) or instances of his mother briefly, sporadically, having a big burst of worry about him. It would make sense if the show version of his parents were the same way aside from the leaving-him-to-live-alone part of things, though that’s not shown.

The rest of my thoughts are largely headcanon since I’m working backwards from his personality to guess about his formative years, but they match up with the little bit that’s shown in the series and how his parents are in the novel. I see Hira as having a self-defeating personality in a lot of ways. The typical etiology of this kind of personality (the set of conditions that lead up to it) is supposed to be a rather deprived childhood that is punctuated by occasional bursts of parental attention when the child is seen as in crisis somehow (or when they attract attention in other self-defeating ways, like intentionally getting in trouble).

This reminds me of something Nancy McWilliams writes about in Psychoanalytic Diagnosis, attributing the idea to someone named Emmanuel Hammer: “a masochistic person is a depressive who still has hope.” [I should note here that “masochistic personality” is an older term for self-defeating personality that is not meaningfully correlated with masochism in a sexual sense. I think that, despite how he might appear at first glance, Hira actually isn’t sexually masochistic or submissive. I have a whole mostly-written post about this that I hope will see the light of day eventually.] In other words, whereas the background that creates a depressive personality involves deprivation that's intense enough that the person gives up on the possibility of receiving the love they need, the self-defeating personality has had enough success with occasionally getting their needs met that they keep trying. If that’s what happened with Hira, it would be consistent with what we see of his parents in the series. We know they pulled out the stops at certain points when it comes to his dysphemia. Anyone who’s a parent can tell you how hard it is to get a good specialist to see your kid, even when they have some kind of glaring issue and you have decent healthcare access overall. The fact that they managed to get him in with a specialist is notable all on it own. (I actually have some stressful phone calls I need to make today in a similar vein, seeking specialist help for one of my kids.) They also spent a lot of money on a DSLR for a young kid. And yet they’re OK with letting him live alone and after that point remain very hands-off. It also seems like despite the attention they paid to his dysphemia during that one period, by the time of the series they’ve totally stopped trying to support him about it.

Basically, I think his parents are largely neglectful (emotionally rather than materially) but that every so often, they freak out and pay a bunch of attention to him because they perceive him to be in need of rescuing. When he was young, he probably appreciated the attention when it happened, but at the time of the series he gets those needs met in other ways and/or displaces that need for attention onto Kiyoi. The idea of seeking attention in this way maps especially well onto his relationship with Kiyoi, because he seeks Kiyoi’s attention and approval through exactly the sort of strategies typically used by people with self-defeating personalities. Here’s McWilliams again:

Reik (1941) explored several dimensions of masochistic acting out, including (1) provocation [she refers to a previous anecdote about a woman who feared angry outbursts by her partner because of experiences with her father; she would act out in ways that antagonized him in order to “get it over with”], (2) appeasement (“I’m already suffering, so please withhold any further punishment”), (3) exhibitionism (“Pay attention: I’m in pain”), and (4) deflection of guilt (“See what you made me do!”).

I can think of plenty of instances of provocation (the first type). Hira often does things he knows will make Kiyoi angry, and sometimes visibly relishes the negative attention.

One good example is the scene in Eternal where he creates a totally avoidable misunderstanding by vaguely talking about how “a divorce is going to happen” because of an affair, which Kiyoi takes to be referring to their relationship and specifically, to Hira cheating. When Kiyoi rears back to punch him, Hira protests for a moment but then says being killed by Kiyoi is actually a longstanding wish of his. It turns out it’s Naho-chan who is getting divorced because her husband cheated. Hira could easily have spoken more clearly when he brought this up by using subjects in his sentences. When he first brings up divorce, Kiyoi says, “Who are you to decide on your own without me agreeing? What dissatisfaction do you have with me?”, which makes it clear he thinks Hira is referring to something involving him. Yet Hira continues to speak without subjects when he elaborates and says the reason for the divorce is an affair. He only clears up the misunderstanding after Kiyoi has lost all patience and is (legitimately!) freaking out. There's no way this isn't, on some level, intentional.

One version of appeasement (the second type of self-defeating acting out) that McWilliams talks about is criticizing oneself before others can do so. It’s no exaggeration to say that Hira talking himself down to Kiyoi is a defining characteristic of their relationship. There are lots of examples of this but a particularly classic case is his constant refrain about being a “pebble.” His invitation for Kiyoi to “Please hit me as much as you want” after their fight in season 2 is another example of appeasement.

It’s hard to pin down specific examples of Hira employing the third type of acting out, exhibitionism. It makes sense that they wouldn’t be easy to find, though. This is a very covert type of exhibitionism that doesn’t announce itself. I think you can observe it in subtle ways, though. For example, when Shirota dumps tomato juice on Kiyoi, a bunch of it gets on Hira as well. Afterwards, Kiyoi cleans the juice off of himself as best he can, seemingly as quickly as possible, and changes his clothes. But when he talks to Hira afterward, dried drops of juice are clearly visible on Hira’s face. Acidic juice on one’s face would probably feel uncomfortable, but he intentionally doesn’t wash it off. It’s like he’s wearing these stains as a badge of honor and proof of his mistreatment.

I think deflection of guilt, the fourth type, is less characteristic of Hira than the others. He tends to absorb guilt rather than deflecting it, blaming himself in a way that often takes the form of the self-critical form of appeasement.

I think it's worth noting that he also employs appeasement as a strategy in the hostile environment of high school. His biggest rule in school is to avoid attention as much as possible, so exhibitionism and provocation aren't acceptable options. (He does disobey Shirota in a way that could be considered provocation when the rift between Kiyoi and Shirota first starts to form, but I think that's more a case of overt rebellion.) We don't see him employ deflection of guilt, though his teacher does seem a bit more forgiving of his attack on Shirota given what he knows about Hira's experiences with bullying. But appeasement? When he can't avoid attention entirely, that is his go-to strategy. It doesn't draw much, if any, additional attention this way. He can demonstrate to people who pose a danger to him that he's not a threat and is ready to comply with their orders if it will allow him to avoid mistreatment. It's only when he finds a kind of vicarious strength in Kiyoi (see my post here for more on that aspect of Hira) that he starts to deal with the bullying in other ways.

So, yeah. Hira's parents initially formed these patterns in Hira, peers deepened them, and they came out in his relationship with Kiyoi. A big part of the shift that needs to happen in order for their relationship to last is for Hira to stop using self-defeating strategies to sneakily get his needs met by Kiyoi and start seeking what he needs openly and assertively.

Maybe now would be a good time to brush off those other in-progress Utsukare posts and try to finish them off while I have a bit of momentum, huh?

By the way, if you’re interested in my previous Utsukare posts, I have a master post here with links to everything.

#utsukushii kare #utsukushii kare meta #utsukare #utsukushii kare analysis #psychology of bl #psychoanalytic theory #self-defeating personality #hira kazunari #kiyoi sou #hira x kiyoi

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ancha-aus · 3 months

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RealAgeAu Drabble - The Gang

Hello! I am back because I had an idea! And so I must WRITE! @spotaus Hope you ready friend :3

It is a feel good one! :D

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

No edit or beta we just having fun!

*------------------*

Horror carefully grabs the bowls and moves them to the sink as Killer and Cross go off to continue clearing their new area. Dust should still be in their nest as it is his rest day today.

Crop joins him in cleaning up the table. Horror shoots him a look "You are a guest." and he gives him a pointed look.

Crop just grins back "Oh you know! Small town politeness!" and he grabs the towel, clearing appointing himself drying duty.

Horror grins as he turns slightly "What do you say Nightmare?"

Nightmare stands wiht his arms crossed by the table. trying his best to look angry but Horror just thinks he is pouting.

Nightmare huffs as he looks down and mutters "I am perfe-ctle able to help dry." he glares harder as he tripped slightly over his words.

Horror chuckles and gently nudges him out of the room "Or. You could go outside with your book? Enjoy the sun as you read and keep an socket on Killer and Cross."

Nightmare frowns at him. Horror knows he isn't exactle being subtle but they don't need to be. Nightmare needs to relax and enjoy his second chance at a childhood.

Nightmare glances at the sink for a moment before nodding and leaving the kitchen. Horror listens for a moment and hears more shuffles before the frontdoor closes.

Horror nods and turns back to the sink and sees Crop's looking curiously.

Horror raises a brow but joins his side and the two start on the chore. Horror starts with soaping up the dishes "Still think that as guest you should relax."

Crop shrugs as he waits his turn to dry "I like helping."

Horror chuckles "And we are still very thankful... let us know how to repay you."

Crop waves it off as he leans back against the counter. Horror shoots him a glance and sees that Crop seems to debate something with himself. Horror just continiues washing the dishes.

"I did... wonder something..."

Horror hums and tilts his skull as he waits.

Crop seems to consider how to ask it before turning to Horror "Nightmare is... very helpful."

Horror chuckles "That is the right word alright. Wants to help with everything." the little perfectionist. Of course it isn't that surprising.

Crop rubs his cheek "Well... I mean... I was wondering... Was he... like that... before? When he was still... big?"

Horror blinks as he looks at Crop for a moment before nodding "Well, yeah." and he continues washing the dishes.

Crop blinks and stares "seriously? But everyone always spoke about well... you know..."

Horror raises a brow at his friend and grins "That he is someone who spreads negativity and only cares about that?"

Crop cringes and shrugs "I didn't mean it like that..."

horror nods "I know."

Crop glares at him and hfufs "How any of them can think you are the most mature is beyond me."

Horror chuckles "Has a lot to do with how i was introduced." the original meeting with Crop had after all been much more chaotic and Horror ahd been actively hostile back then. Let his own mischievous side shine more through. Horror still loves jokes and pranks he just knows when to pick his moments, unlike some people.

Crop finishes drying the next few dishes before shooting him a look "Like... introduced? How did you end up working together with them?"

Horror shrugs as he finishes washing the last few things "Same as everyone. Nightmare hired me."

Crop pauses before snorting and laughing "I am sorry. Now whenever i hear nightmare i immediantly see that tiny six year old and they idea of him just standing before you and hiring you like that is real funny."

Horror chuckles and nods "It is rather amusing. Trust me. We did not miss the fact that technically we all agreed to work for a six year old." even when that same six year old was parading around in the adult version of his body. It did explain some of Nightmare curious habbits. The way he would get grumpy if tired or when he was low on magic and negative energy. The way things had to happen in a very specific way or he would just stare at the problem. just a lot of tiny things.

Crop chcukles and looks over "So... what? He realised you were very strong and decided to hire you as muscle?"

Horror grins "Ironically. My role hardly changed between when i was first hired and now."

Crop blinks confused "Waht?"

Horror chuckles and shrugs "I was originally hired to keep an eye on Dust and Killer. So you could say that I was already hired as babysitter to begin with." he snorts at the look Crop sends him.

Crop just gapes at him "seriously?! But... like.. .you are you!" and he waves at him "mega strong and amazing with tracking and traps!"

Horrro shrugs "Nightmare didn't specifically need those things at the time. At the time he needed someone steady to keep the chaos of Killer and dust a bit more contained."

Crop finishes his own task and crosses his arms "really?"

horror nods "It is true. I was surprised myself. But... well... Even if Nightmare had always been a god and while he wasn't used to mortal things and habits..." especially not after being in a fake adult body for 500 years powered by godpowered apples "He isn't afraid to admit he doesn't know things. At least to himself."

Crop just stares at him and Hroror rubs his own neck "Killer was the first one to be recruited. I know that story but it isn't my place to tell. All I can say is that Killer took his role of first follower very seriously. But... well... it isn't an easy job that Killer and Nightmare did and Nightmare was very quickly aware Killer is a mortal."

Crop blinks and gives aslow nod "so he got help?"

Horror nods "exactly. We once asked Nightmare why he picked Dust and Nightmare had just told us that Dust fit the requirements and was willing."

Horror sometimes wonders if Nightmare had asked others before hand. If others had said no and he had just disappeared form their lives. Or if he asked Dust first but had been prepared to just leave if he said no. He never ended up asking him.

Crop gives a slow nod "Still doesn't explain your role."

Hroror grins "Dust and Killer hated one another."

Crop sputters "waht? No way! There is no way. Those two are like this!" he crosses his fingers "You all are!" and he waits.

Horror shrugs "took time. more important, took us all being honest and vulnerable." which none of them enjoyed being at the time. It had all felt too good to be true. Horror knew he sometimes worried that he would have woken up back in his universe, away from his new friends and his brother and world still slowly dying of starvation. Nightmare had offered him a solution in trade for his service, Horror had quickly accepted.

Crop frowns "Like... I know Killer annoys Dust a lot but i mean.. that is more like.. .you know... playground.... boys and girls..."

horror chuckles "you can call it flirting. THough Killer will die before admitting that, he will tell you he is teasing. big difference."

Crop groans as he rubs his face "but how did that came to be? If they hated one another?"

Horror shrugs "both of them reminded each other of themselves. They both hated that. Took a long time of me being there as supervisor and buffer before they started to interact without fighting." both a physical and a metaphorical buffer.

Crop seems to consider this before nodding "I guess that makes sense... And you had the same role when Cross joined?"

Horror shakes his skull "by that time I had already joined Nightmare's normal forces and took pretty much the same job as Dust and Killer had. but by that time we had all learned not to just judge a book by its cover and to respect some boundaries. It was easier when Cross joined because of that." Good to because Cross had been, and still was, a bundle of nerves and anxiety. self doubt if honestly the biggest thing holding him back. If only Cross could see that himself, then Horror doubts there is much in this multiverse that could stop Cross from doing what he wants.

Crop chuckles "All of you had to learn that? YOu seem perfectly fine with interactions."

horror raises a brow at him "First week i stayed in this universe."

Crop's winces and rubs his arm "Yeha okay fair."

horror shakes his skull "I made my own mistakes and am thankful that the others forgave me for. It was a learnign curve for all of us." to be coworkers. to rely on each other. to be friends. To be a team and unit. and now... a family...

Crop nods "well... I can say that you guys are doing great!" he grins "people in town were nervous but they all really like you!"

Horror chcukles "good to hear. and thank you for everything..."

Crop shrugs "don't worry about it." he checks the clock and grins "I will need to go back. need to milk the cows and Betty loves her schedule. If i am late she may come looking for me."

Horror sighs "please don't bring a cow to these grounds..." Hell knows that they all had been assholes enough to joke and prank Cross with those. Before they realised how bad the phobia was. Again, they can all be assholes.

Crop gives him an easy thumbs up "don't worry. I will make sure it doesn't happen." he glances around and whispers "there was... one thing i was wodnering... you guys are real close. Is it... you know?" and he grins widely.

Horror chuckles and shrugs "not specifically." he shoots a glance towards where he knows Dust is sleeping in the nest. Then he glances out of the window to see if he can spot either Killer or Cross "There is no hurry..."

Crop grins and nods "cool cool. just people asking me stuff."

Horror nudges him "don't gossip. It is a bad habit."

Crop sighs "come on. you guys wouldn't give me the details on yourr made backstory. can tell me this at least."

Horror shoots him an amused look "no." and he starts to lead Crop's out.

Crop huffs but joins his side. They walk towards the path that will lead Crop home before stopping and both saying their goodbyes.

Crop shoots hima look "You have a lot of patiences with this."

horror shrugs "there is no hurry" and if he learend one thing with his family is that sometimes things just took time. Especially things concerning emotions and feeling vulnerable. Which love is a part of.

Crop nods before smiling "I am sure you four will figure it out eventually."

horror shoots a tiny smile back "thanks. Have a safe trip."

Crop grins as he waves "you guys have a great day and thanks for breakfast!" he waves into the distance at the other skeletons before starting to make his track back home.

Just a matter of time and giving them time. Horror knows by now that it is better to let them come to their own conclusions and thoughts then trying to force them to see stuff they aren't ready to see.

Luckily they have their own home now and can actually take the time they need.

*-----------------*

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

#RealAgeau #utmv #deaged nightmare #nightmare sans #horror sans #farm sans #We have another Horror POV chapter?!#Look I just wanted to write this purely for me #because these boys were all messes when nightmare picked them up and i thought it needed acknowledgement #they all worked HARD to make this team they have now work and to get where they are now #And Crop is there so he got the honours to be nosey and ask the questions!#and horror and crops are like bffs so of course we go to our homeboy!#<3 the gang came a long way and it took work for them to work together and trust one another but that is what makes it beautiful #also the mental image of tiny nightmare recruiting them is hilarious to me and i need you all to see my vision. even when in reality it #big nightmare that recruited them it was tiny nightmare at heart!#Also!! Crop really said “when are you going to put a ring on that?” as he pointed at the other three and Horror replied with “i am trying”

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stevesbestgirl · 1 year

Text

Phases of the Moon - Part 3

Steven Grant x f!Reader, eventual Marc Spector x f!Reader

4747 words

Warnings: minor angst, mutual pining, idiots in love, chances of a few minor swears, miscommunication

As always, keep in mind that I am not a system and am not an expert. All of my information about their relationship comes from the Moon Knight show and I use that as my reference point.

*Bold type is spoken by Marc when Steven is fronting.*

Masterlist

Steven sent you his schedule for the next week on Sunday, “We can start the north wing this week, if you like.” He was a bit nervous about it- after what Donna had said.

You wanted to see him again; you were still happy to be friends with Steven. But you hadn’t replied yet- you needed a bit more space than you’d originally thought in order to get over this crush.

Steven was working Tuesday again and even though you hadn’t responded to his message, he’d still hoped you would show up. But his break came and went and he started to worry that Marc had been right. Maybe he had blown it. He’d must’ve done something on Saturday that made you decide not to come back. He knew he could be a bit oblivious, but he couldn’t figure it out for the life of him.

Come Wednesday, he spent far too much time agonizing over whether he should call you. He was up so late, he overslept Thursday morning. It was strangely nostalgic of his life before he’d known about Marc, but the charm quickly wore off when Donna got on his case. Not that she ever needed a reason, but she seemed pleased to have an excuse to torment him.

In fact, she must have enjoyed reaming him so much that morning that she returned in the afternoon. He did his best to appear busy as she marched up to the counter, her phone clutched in her hand, “I suppose you and your girlfriend think you’re being rather cute, don’t you?” Her tone was more derisive than downright angry.

“Sorry, what are you on about?”

“Like you haven’t seen this?” Donna brandished her phone. Steven tried to get a look, but only caught a glimpse of the some website before she huffed and pulled it back around, reading aloud, “Received a tour today from the gift shoppist, Steven Grant. Steven’s knowledge of Egypt is only surpassed by his enthusiasm for it, which makes this museum patron pity the museum management who waste his talents for touring in the gift shop. So-”

Steven didn’t realize he was smiling until Donna looked up from her screen, “Oh- don’t look so pleased. Your girlfriend can write all the reviews she likes, but it won’t convince me to make you a guide.”

“There’s more?”

“Like I’m going to continue stroking your ego or whatever,” Donna wrinkled her nose. “Just get back to work. At the counter.”

As soon as Donna disappeared from sight, Steven had his own phone out, not bothering to hide it from the customer that had just walked over to browse. He scanned the site until he found it- your review.

He read aloud, beginning hushed and growing louder as he went, “So, I will most definitely be returning for the rest of the tour in hopes that others might share in the experience. As lucky as I’ve been to enjoy a private tour, it would be selfish to keep Steven a secret.”

Steven’s chest felt light, “Did you hear that, mate?” The young man clutching a plastic pyramid looked around, confused, but Steven didn’t wait for a response, “I think she likes me. Or she did like me. Bloody hell, I’ve gotta call her- I’ve gotta call her right now.”

He pulled out his phone and faltered, “Wait, but-” his finger hovered over your contact, “If she liked me enough to leave that review, why hasn’t she replied to my message?”

The customer gave a weak shrug, hesitantly setting the pyramid on the counter. Steven seemed to only notice him just then, “Right, of course, let me get that for you.” He cashed him out and once he was out of sight, he continued staring at his phone. He’d texted you Sunday; this was the fifth day with no response. What if you’d changed your mind?

“Steven, just call her.” Marc sounded exasperated, watching on from the mirror behind the counter.

Steven glanced at the mirror, looking stricken, “What if she doesn’t like me anymore? That’s why she hasn’t answered.”

Steven was putting the phone away, moaning under his breath about how he’d blown this. Marc knew he could front, call you himself, but that kind of defeated the purpose. This was Steven’s show to run.

Steven pressed his palms into the wood, “Alright, get a grip on yourself, mate. C’mon.”

His halfhearted attempt at a pep talk stuttered to a halt when he glanced up, seeing you walk in. You were dressed casually today, wearing a pair of jeans and a tee-shirt with planets on it. Not that it made any difference to Steven; he thought you looked lovely in whatever you wore.

“Marc, she’s really here right, I’m not just mad, am I?”

“Two things can be true,” Marc quipped, falling silent as you approached.

You tried not to look too much at Steven as you approached the gift shop; you needed to keep yourself in check today. No flirting, no admiring, and definitely no pining. Steven was your friend, that was all.

“You came back.” Now your eyes were drawn to Steven as he spoke, sounding like he’d seen some kind of angel instead of just you, torturing yourself.

“Of course I came back, I need the rest of the tour, right?” You smiled; that wasn’t flirting, right?

“I didn’t hear from you, so I thought you might have gotten tired of hearing me talk,” he chuckled weakly.

You breathed a sigh of relief; at least it didn’t sound like he’d seen your review. He deserved it and you hoped he might read it someday, but it was easier this way. It gave you time to quash the little ache in your chest at the sight of him.

“I’m sorry about that, my cousin’s been dragging me off to visit family all week, so I’ve been a bit scattered.” Lying to Steven didn’t feel very good. “But I’ll always come back for a tour; you’re not giving yourself enough credit.”

Steven couldn’t figure out what you were thinking. You were being perfectly pleasant to him- it didn’t seem like you were upset. But you’d withdrawn from him; you weren’t being as playful- as open with him as you’d been before. You were being polite. Distant.

He tried to swallow past the tightness in his throat, “Does that mean you want to start the north wing today?”

“If you’ve got time for me- if not, that's completely alright, I should have told you I was coming-”

He nodded furiously, “Course I do; always got time for you, don’t I love?”

You tried to keep your expression even; why was this so hard? Why did he have to be so sweet and charming and positively dense? “Thanks.”

There was a beat of silence before Steven clapped his hands together, “Well, let’s get started then.”

Things were awkward. And it was your fault. But you couldn’t let yourself be sucked back into that magnetic field of Steven’s warm personality. It would make this- being friends- impossible. You were probably giving him a weird vibe. And maybe he was mad at you for ignoring him. Most people would be; you might’ve been if you were in his position.

But he didn’t give up on you, that was for certain. He still spoke to you with the same enthusiasm as before. You wondered if he even had it in him to be mean to someone; it seemed doubtful.

It felt like if you tried hard enough, you could envision the little bubble of radiant energy that emanated from Steven, with you standing just outside. He was trying extra hard to make you smile, it seemed, adding little jokes to his explanations. You couldn’t help yourself, lips turning up as he asked you, “Why didn’t Cleopatra go to the psychiatrist?”

“Why?”

“She was the Queen of Denial.” He rocked on his heels and did a “buh dum tss” motion with his hands, a goofy smile on his face.

You couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of you, “That was absolutely awful, Steven. How long have you had that abomination in your pocket?”

He seemed rather relieved to see the hint of your usual self and suddenly it felt the same as it had before. You were back to making your little quips and teasing him again. He realized he’d missed hearing your laugh.

He kept moving, beaming as you continued to complain about the bad jokes. He’d been scolded an awful lot of times in his life, but he never liked it so much before you did it. The way you’d roll your eyes at him, but then you’d smile; it made his stomach drop.

Glancing at his watch, his stomach dropped again, but not in as pleasant a way, “Oh bollocks, I’m late getting back again.” He hadn’t thought you were coming today so he hadn’t set an alarm.

This time Steven pulled you by the hand back toward the gift shop. “I can’t believe we’re doing this again,” you huffed, trying to keep up with him and ignore the way he was clutching your hand.

“Sorry, I’m a bit hopeless I’m afraid,” he grimaced as he hurried around a corner, only to stumble to a halt as he caught sight of Donna over by the front desk with JB. He ducked back behind the wall, pulling you back with him. Surprised by his sudden change in direction, you stumbled.

In a moment of rare coordination, Steven kept you upright by your hand, pulling you back in and catching you in his other arm. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared up at him, pressed to his chest by his arm around your back.

“Careful,” he breathed, speaking so low that his accent was barely audible.

You peered out, comprehension dawning on your face. That is, until you inhaled, the scent of whatever kind of soap Steven used filling your senses. You were far too close- this was not good. It felt like you were short-circuiting, staring up at him with your mouth half-open like a deer in headlights. Two minutes ago, you were thinking that maybe you could pull off this whole friend deal and now you were struggling to form even a single word because proximity to Steven was intoxicating.

“Sorry to surprise you,” he whispered again, only now beginning to blush.

“You’re- uh- it’s fine. Fine,” you managed to get out. You peeked around the corner again, “I think you’re safe now.”

You took a hasty step backwards and now Steven looked flustered, “Right. Better get back then and hope she hasn’t gone to check on me.”

You nodded, following him back the rest of the way to the gift shop, relieved to see Donna wasn’t poking around. You leaned against the counter, hoping your face wasn’t flushed, although you supposed you could blame it on all the rushing around, “Sorry.”

His brow furrowed slightly, “What are you sorry for?”

You gave him a wry smile, “Seems like I keep getting you into messy situations. I’d hate for you to get into real trouble.”

“I’ve been in real trouble before, you don’t need to worry.” He chuckled and you almost felt like you were being left out of a joke. But he smiled at you, “But just to be safe, when will you be back? So I can set another alarm. Just in case you get busy again, you know.” You weren’t prepared for Steven to tease you; you suddenly felt a bit warm.

You turned away, absently examining a stuffed mummy off one of the racks, “When do you have time?”

“I’m working the morning shift tomorrow; if you came by around two, we could do like we did on Saturday,” he offered.

“You don’t mind staying late after a real shift?” You smiled; teasing him wasn’t flirting. And he was doing it to you too.

“I told you, love, I’ve always got time for you.” It was like he wanted you to suffer.

You chuckled weakly, “And you’re sure you haven’t gotten yourself punished with inventory again this week?”

“I haven’t been punished quite yet, although that might change now that Donna’s read your review,” Steven smiled. “She was a bit steamed about it this morning.” You tried to smile back, but your mouth was suddenly dry. Steven tilted his head, “You alright?”

You prayed your cheeks didn’t give you away even as you could feel the warmth creeping through them, “Sorry, yeah. I didn’t, um, realize you’d seen that. It’s a bit embarrassing.”

“Why’s it embarrassing?” That little furrow between his brows returned and you wanted to shout the answer at him; it felt like it was so obvious and it was somehow more humiliating that he hadn’t picked up on it.

“You didn’t think it was-” you bit your lip, searching for the most diplomatic way to put it, “A bit much?”

Steven’s lips parted in understanding, but his brow remained furrowed, “A bit more than I deserve, maybe, but I thought it was lovely. No one’s ever said something so nice about me- not that I can remember anyways.”

You had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from telling him that he deserved to hear so much more than that; Steven was oblivious, but not that oblivious. At least you didn’t think so. “Well, I’m glad I posted it then. Especially if Donna wasn’t happy,” you smiled.

“She read about half of it to me and it was quite satisfying, if I can be honest,” Steven grinned guiltily.

“Did she see any of the others?”

“The others?” Steven cocked his head. “Did you leave more than one?”

You shook your head, “No, the other people who have been listening to your tour did.” He stared at you like he didn’t understand, so you smiled, chagrined, “Okay, so maybe I mentioned it to a few of them when that little boy was asking you if he could draw on the walls like in the displays.”

You gestured for him to check his phone and Steven was quiet for a long moment, just scrolling through and seeing his name before speaking softly, a small smile on his face, “No wonder Donna was so short with me this morning.”

“And you still didn’t get inventory? You must be having a good day.”

Steven remembered how nervous he’d been this morning, thinking that you didn’t want to see him anymore. You’d pulled away from him and he wasn’t sure why. But all of those worries had dissolved into nothing when he’d heard you laugh. And he’d gotten to hold you close, albeit because of Marc’s split second of intervention. And you were coming back to see him again tomorrow.

The corners of his lips tugged up, “Yeah, I guess I am.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” you patted the counter. “See you tomorrow at two then?”

He nodded, “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

Once you were out of sight, Marc spoke up, “No one’s ever said anything that nice to you, huh?”

Steven rolled his eyes at the gift shop mirror, “I was excluding people I share a body with.”

“Oh, well you should have said so-”

“Yeah, I’ll be sure to mention that to her next time, won’t I?”

Mark’s retort was cut short by the clack of Donna’s shoes on the polished floor. “Stevie, glad to see you’re back at your post,” she mused, sarcasm evident. He opened his mouth to protest, but she tapped her watch, “I came by at three seventeen and where were you? Not here, that’s for sure. Off with your little girlfriend again? You know what I’m gonna say.”

“Donna, no- I’ll stay late tonight to make it up-”

“What good does that do me? No. You’re in the back tomorrow.”

“I can’t work late tomorrow, I’ve got a date.” He was going to ask you to dinner after the tour was finished.

“Well I imagine you don’t anymore, do you?”

“I can’t cancel, Donna, I’ll do the next two Fridays instead.” Steven hated that he had to plead with Donna; he usually just put his head down and took it, but he couldn’t cancel on you. He couldn’t risk messing this up again.

Donna gave her head a derisive toss, “Well, guess you should have thought of that before you took an extra long break, yeah?” And she clacked away, taking Steven’s good mood with her.

Steven shook his head insistently, “I can’t- I can’t cancel on her.” But still, he took out his phone, sending you a text, “Spoke too soon on inventory, I’m afraid.”

You were already on the bus, on your way home, so you replied quickly, “Oh no. Was it because of the reviews?”

“No, completely unrelated.” Steven wasn’t going to tell you that it was because he’d gone over on his break either. He didn’t want you to feel guilty about coming around to visit him.

“Well, I’m still sorry- I’m sure it wasn’t justified. We can reschedule, no big deal.”

“We could still get dinner after I’m off at eight, if you like?”

Last week you would have been overjoyed at the offer, but now you felt strange. You wanted to go, but you had a feeling it might be bad for you in the long term. You were already pushing your luck as it was.

“I’m sorry, Steven. I’ve actually already got plans for dinner tomorrow.” It was difficult to type and even more difficult to actually send it; you hated lying to Steven.

“Right, of course. I’ll let you know my schedule tomorrow. We can choose another day.” He felt a bit of panic; what if you had a date with someone else?

“Looking forward to it.” You sent a follow-up message, “Don’t forget to read those other reviews. Hope they cheer you up a bit.”

Steven sighed at his phone. So much for his good day. Although, thinking about the nice things you’d said about him, the way you’d looked at him when he’d held you close- maybe it was still alright. He returned to the website, searching more thoroughly this time.

There were a handful of others, the most recent from barely twenty minutes ago. He wasn’t even sure when you’d found time to speak to anyone today, but somehow, you had. And they were all lovely. He felt his face flush at the idea of all of those people saying nice things about him. One in particular caught his eye, though not because of what it said about him.

In the very last paragraph, it read, “Steven, if you’re reading this, you’re a lucky man. Hold onto her. -Dorothy.” She signed her name on the review like it was a letter. Steven remembered the older woman who’d been trailing after you during his tour; he’d slowed down a bit that day so she could keep up.

“Well Dorothy, I gotta get my arms around her to hold on, don’t I?” he murmured sardonically.

Come Friday, Steven started his shift feeling a bit downcast. He should be walking around the museum with you right now- making you laugh, finding a way to hold your hand again. Instead, he cursed Donna under his breath and clocked in. He was pleased to find out from the first shift at the gift shop that she’d left for the day; at least he wouldn’t have to listen to her complaints today.

Around four, Steven’s heart leapt as your name popped up on his phone, “How’s the inventory going?”

“I’ve not started yet. Manning the counter until 7 and then inventory after close.”

“I could call Donna and try to order a pizza if it’ll make you feel better.”

Steven chuckled, “Afraid she’s ducked out early today.”

“That’s hypocritical.”

Steven hit a bit of a busy spurt in the gift shop; it was Friday, which meant that the kids in the after-school programs were extra rowdy. They needed to touch absolutely everything, but rarely had the pocket money to buy anything. So he spent a great deal of his afternoon fixing the displays, his phone still hastily stuffed in his pocket.

Meanwhile, you were deciding where to order pizza from. If Donna wasn’t in, you could afford to brighten Steven’s day a bit. Especially since you still had a sneaking suspicion that he was working late because of you.

He’d told you about JB’s negligence; you waltzed right through the lobby at quarter to seven with a pizza box in your hand and he didn’t even look up from his phone. Pausing at the entrance to the gift shop, you watched Steven for a second. He was typing something on his phone, only to shake his head and mutter something before deleting and typing again. He repeated this process twice before tucking his phone away and moments later, your own phone chimed in your pocket.

Steven’s head snapped up from the plushes he was sorting and you lifted the pizza box, “I really wanted to order that pizza.”

A slow smile spread over his face, “Are you having a laugh? You’ve actually brought pizza into the museum?”

You shrugged, “You told me JB wasn’t the best security guard.”

“Actually I said he was bloody awful, but you’re much sweeter than I am,” Steven chuckled.

You set the box on the counter, “If we want to eat before I get busted with this, we’d better get going.” Noting his hesitation, you added, “It’s vegan cheese. Don't worry."

The corner of his mouth quirked up. He'd only mentioned it offhand, but of course you were listening. You always listened- you made him feel like the most interesting person in the world, even if no one else but you cared. He followed your lead, taking a slice of the still warm pie, “Thanks- for this. I’ll admit, I was having a bit of a shit day-” he caught himself, “Sorry-”

“Steven Grant, did you just curse?” The little bubble of laughter that left you was pure delight.

His face went hot, “Yeah, sorry, slipped out I guess.”

“No, I love it,” you grinned. “I wanna hear more Steven curses.”

“You want me to- curse?”

You nodded, laughing again, “Let them all loose- all the curse words you know, right now.”

“I don’t think it works that way,” he chuckled weakly, half-tempted to comply, if only to see the way your nose scrunched up when you laughed. “After all, you’ve gotta earn a true curse.”

“I suppose you’re right,” you conceded.

He smiled, tentatively checking his watch; he didn’t want you to go. He was about to invite you to stay while he did inventory- he could tuck you in the back until JB had done his walkthrough, but then he remembered that you were supposed to be busy tonight.

His brow furrowed, “Did your dinner plans fall through?”

He seemed so genuinely concerned, you crumbled immediately, “That was a bit of a fib actually,”

Watching his expression fall made your heart ache, “So you didn’t have dinner plans tonight?”

You chewed your lip, suddenly nervous, as you shook your head, “I thought maybe we shouldn’t get dinner- together, you know. It would’ve felt like a date and you made your position on that clear, so I-”

“Oi, what the- You can’t bring food in here!” JB had started his rounds early, likely eager to get out of work on a Friday night.

You jumped whipping around, “Right, sorry about that. Wrong address.”

JB grabbed the pizza box from the counter and shoved it into your hands, giving you a firm push toward the exit, “We’re closing up anyway, get moving along.”

Steven felt a flash of anger that was unusual for him, “Hang on now, no need to be so rough.” And he wasn’t finished talking to you; what had you meant about his “position?”

“Stand back now, Scotty, let me do my job, yeah?” He pressed a hand to Steven’s chest and Steven felt the irrational urge to grab his fingers and twist.

“You don’t need to touch her- she wasn’t hurting anything!”

“Look mate, it’s Friday, I wanna get out of here, alright?”

Steven pulled JB’s hand from his chest, glaring at him as he dropped the closed sign down on the counter with a loud clatter, “What’s stopping you then? It’s closing time.”

JB glanced off in the direction you’d gone, muttering something under his breath before moving on.

Steven wanted to follow you- to chase after you and talk more, but he was on thin ice as it was. He’d been lucky to get his museum position back at all, after everything, and if JB was feeling cross with him, it wouldn’t be a surprise if he reported back to Donna. And he was always on thin ice with her. So he stayed where he was. But once he was sure JB was out of earshot, he pulled his phone out.

You hesitated a second before picking up; you were just out front. You’d needed to stop and take a moment to admonish yourself for blurting so much out; you’d been so swept up in doing something nice for Steven that you’d forgotten about the lie you’d told him. When he’d brought it up, you’d panicked.

“Hello.” You grimaced at the forced normalcy in your tone.

“Are you alright, love? He shouldn’t’ve pushed you like that and I’ll be sure to have a word with-” there was a pause as he considered who’d he’d be chatting with, “-someone, about this on Monday.” You’d never heard Steven so riled before.

“I’m fine, Steven. No need to get all worked up, alright?” You were hoping- praying even, that Steven had only called to check on you. But that hope was short-lived.

“Yeah, you’re right, I know. I just-” he took a deep breath, “Right. I’m good- I’m aces. Very calm.” There was a pause, then he cleared his throat, “What did you mean, back in there?”

You played dumb, “What do you mean?”

“Well, you said you didn’t think we should get dinner because it would feel like a date.”

“Right, that,” you acknowledged.

“Then you said that I’d made my position on that clear. But the thing is, I don’t remember that. And sometimes I forget things, but I don’t think I’d forget that, you know?”

“Steven, we don’t have to-”

“If I said something, I want- no, I need to know what it was. Please tell me.”

“Right.” You sighed, “Last Saturday, you mentioned that you’d told me you were working because otherwise it would have seemed like it was a date.”

“It wasn’t, was it?” To Steven, giving you a tour wasn’t a date. Not a proper one, like you deserved. But he did remember saying that and now that he recalled the memory, he remembered the way you’d faltered in the conversation. And you’d worn that dress.

And suddenly it all made sense. The long silence in your absence, the way you’d been reserved when you came back; he’d hurt you. And you’d still left him that lovely review. You’d still come to see him again. You’d brought him dinner at work just to toe the line he’d accidentally drawn in the sand.

“No, of course not, you said so yourself,” you agreed quickly. “Sorry Steven, I’m getting on the bus, so I’ve got to go.”

“W-wait-”

“I’ll see you again soon, alright Steven?” And then you were gone.

If he could have made it down the street to the bus stop before they pulled away, he would have made a run for it. But he heard the familiar hiss of the brakes just before you hung up, dropping his phone onto the counter and fisting his hair.

“God, I’m such an idiot!” He raised his hand in a mock toast, “Cheers to Steven, the biggest knob on the whole bloody island.”

“Statistically, probably not the biggest.”

Steven glared at his reflection in the mirror at the back of the counter, “Not helpful, Marc.”

“I wasn’t trying to be helpful.”

“Great. Thank you for that. Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do.” He began working on the inventory, but the real work was brainstorming how he could make this up to you. You deserved something special- something that would make it obvious how he felt about you.

#steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #moon knight x reader #steven grant #marc spector #steven grant fluff #moon knight fluff #moon knight fanfic #steven grant fic #phases of the moon series

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mj-iza-writer · 3 months

Note

Hello MJ!!! I love your work and i was wondering if you could do another part to the story where the whumpee and caretaker have the same scar? Maybe a prequel where we see what happened to the whumpee or caretaker? Whatever you choose I adore your writing and I hope you have endless inspiration and motivation forever and ever. 💫

https://www.tumblr.com/mj-iza-writer/754906910306762752/warning-swear-words-used-the-team-burst-through?source=share

I believe you should be able to find the original story there. Here is a background if not.

The story is a team whump story where Leader and the team bring an almost dead Whumpee to Caretaker, the teams medic. Caretaker right away sees similarities in Whumpee's wounds to someone from their past. While healing Whumpee, Leader and the team go out, hunt this person down, and kill them before they can strike again. This story goes into Caretaker's past.

I am so sorry this took so long to answer. Tumblr deleted the story the other day after I had worked on it for like three hours, so after crying my eyes out, I rewrote it... on my phone's notepad as I didn't want that to happen again. I always appreciate ask, and I thank you so much for the request.

The story.

Whumpee was gaining strength now. It had been a few weeks since their rescue.

Caretaker had worked hard to get them to this point.

"How about we attempt a real bath today?", Caretaker sat down next to Whumpee's makeshift hospital bed. A better option then the gurney they had laid on for the first two weeks.

"D-do you think I'll be able to do it?", Whumpee whispered.

"I guess we won't know unless we try", Caretaker smiled, "we can do a quick bath today. Maybe give your hair some attention", Caretaker looked over the clumped hair that still had dried mud from when they were found.

"I think I would like that" Whumpee nodded. Knowing they could use a good clean up.

"Alright I will go get your bath together, and I'll be back to get you", Caretaker stood.

Leader came in and found Whumpee leaning forward in their bed.

"Look at you", Leader smiled, "looks like you are getting stronger and better every day."

"Caretaker is going to give me a bath today", Whumpee whispered, "a-a real bath."

"Oh, that's going to be nice", Leader sat down next to Whumpee, "I take it that's where Caretaker is."

Whumpee nodded.

Leader looked around the room, "I wonder if Caretaker would need a hand", they looked at Whumpee, "would you be okay if I offered to help?"

"Yes that's fine", Whumpee nodded.

Caretaker came in just then and looked at Leader weirdly.

"Good morning, uh, I was just about to give Whumpee a bath. Did you need me for something?"

"No, no, just checking in", Leader smiled, "I was wondering if you'd like a hand though? Whumpee said they were alright with it."

"Actually, that would be helpful", Caretaker nodded, "I can have you work on their hair while I clean the rest of them up. We'll be able to get more cleaned in a little bit of time."

Leader carefully set Whumpee into the tub of warm water.

"Does everything feel alright?", Caretaker looked them over. The way Whumpee happily sunk into the water was enough of an answer.

"It feels so good", Whumpee moaned happily, "thankyou."

Caretaker knelt beside the tub, "yes, I remember my first bath after I escaped. It felt so good", they smiled.

Leader came around to other side of the tub and knelt down. They knew better than to ask questions about Caretaker's past.

"Alright Leader, get to cleaning", Caretaker smiled as they handed them a cup, "please remember we won't look clean right away. Whumpee's body will only let us get so far before they need to rest again. We just need to get enough off."

Leader nodded.

Whumpee stole glances at Caretaker. They looked to where that mark was hiding under his clothes. The one they had in common. The one that meant Caretaker knew exactly what had happened to Whumpee because it may have happened to him.

Whumpee then looked down where their mark was. A fresher wound right on their ribs, not as faded as Caretaker's was.

"Caretaker?", Whumpee whispered.

"Yes Whumpee, are you okay?" Caretaker gave a concerned look.

"May I... may I uhm", Whumpee stuttered nervously.

"Whumpee you can say or ask anything you want", Caretaker gently rubbed their shoulder.

Whumpee nodded, "may I, uhm, know what they did to you?"

Leader stopped what they were doing but didn't look up.

"I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked", Whumpee hurried when they saw Caretaker's jaw clench.

"No... uh.. it's fine", Caretaker looked at Whumpee shamefully, "I guess you have a right to know."

Caretaker started to gently clean Whumpee.

"Well I guess to start off, I was originally a doctor. That was my calling in life, it's what I always wanted to be, but they stole that from me", Caretaker frowned, "I was taken by them a little after I started working in the hospital."

Caretaker sighed, "after they found out what I was and what they could make me do", Caretaker paused to look at a wound on Whumpee's back, "they locked me in a room they called the operating room."

"They did things a little differently at first. They had several prisoners to play with. If they went too far, which was often, they would bring them to me. I was forced to heal their victims. I would be severely punished if I didn't.... if I lost someone."

Caretaker sighed, "many nights I cowarded away in the corner of the operating room. I was so scared that my door would be opened and another victim would be laid on my table. I'm still haunted by the faces or those people, buy their voices. Them begging me to just let them die. Them telling me I was just as bad as them. I was causing their suffering to be longer."

Caretaker's lip quivered, "I wanted to heal people, but not like that. I wanted to be appreciated for my work. To feel proud of my abilities, but instead, I heard yelling and pleading from people who wanted me to kill them. Cowering away from that person as their victim was dragged out kicking and screaming. Telling me that I was a horrible... person. What hurt worse was when I started to agree with them. I was a horrible p..person."

Caretaker looked up at Leader for a moment before continuing.

Leader felt their eyes but didn't dare look up.

"One night in particular, a victim was brought in. I had had them on my table before. They pleaded with me to let them die this time. They couldn't go on anymore. I remember looking deep into their eyes. I nodded. This was their only victim at the time. I knew my punishment would be especially bad if I failed."

"They came into my room a few hours later and saw the body. I was forced to take that victims place in the torture. It hurt like hell, but it was worth it", Caretaker chuckled lightly, "it gave me a boost of confidence."

"A few days later, I heard my door unlock. They came in and told me they were going hunting for a new victim since they didnt have any", Caretaker stopped for a second and looked lovingly at Whumpee, "I some how got them to come closer to me..... I stabbed them with a makeshift knife. I thought I killed them, unfortunately I guess I didn't."

"I ran", Caretaker looked up at Leader again, "I ran until I couldn't run anymore, then I collapsed. I prayed that I might die as well and be forgiven of my sins in the afterlife."

Caretaker smiled again as they wiped a tear, "thankfully someone found me. Someone who has a habit of finding injured people and bringing them here, and making them like a family. They didn't exactly have a medic back then. So I took care of my own wounds. Leader tried to help as much as they could."

"You said I did good at getting the supplies you needed", Leader finally spoke up.

"Yes you did", Caretaker nodded.

Caretaker sighed again, "I don't like talking about my past too often as I'm ashamed of it. I allowed people to suffer because I was too afraid to speak out and stand up against our captor. I was too afraid of them."

Whumpee looked deeply into Caretaker's eyes, "you were allowed to be afraid, you're human. I was terrified by them. I can see why you would have been as well. I'm sorry for what those people yelled at you and called you. You're my hero", Whumpee shook, "plus if it hadn't happened, you would not have met Leader and become part of this team. I could have died. It's unfortunate, but those hard times brought you to this family.

"Thankyou Whumpee I appreciate that", Caretaker smiled, another tear threatened to fall, "well, I think that just about does it for this bath, you are shaking a lot. I think your body is ready to rest again."

Whumpee nodded, "thankyou for telling me about that. I really appreciate it."

"You're welcome", Caretaker smiled weakly.

Whumpee fell asleep a little after their bath.

Caretaker stepped outside on their office's balcony to get some air. Maybe cry a little more.

They were just about to lower to the ground when Leader came out carrying some drinks.

"Hey, sorry to bother you", Leader frowned, "I thought maybe you could use one of these after that. I know you don't like talking about that subject. Though I think it was good for Whumpee to hear it. Maybe they can see that being fully healed is possible after some time. I know I have a deeper respect for you than I already had. You're absolutely inspirational."

"I-I don't know about that, but Whumpee deserved to hear it", they looked down at the drink, "I'm not proud of that time of my life. Thanks for this."

"You're welcome", Leader took a drink of their own, "I agree with them though. If it wasn't for that, this team would have never made it. None of this would be possible."

Caretaker smiled weakly.

"I guess I know why you are able to fix just about anything I bring to you", Leader tried to lighten the mood.

"Yep, you still haven't given me anything compared to what I've dealt with. Except Whumpee, that was a hard one. Which is how I knew it was their work. It had to be at least."

Leader nodded, "for what it's worth. You are an amazing doctor, and I'm honored to have you on this team. I know this wasn't what you had planned for your life, but man, I appreciate you so much."

"Thanks", Caretaker smiled, "this isn't what I had planned, but I wouldn't change it for the world."

Leader grinned, "I'm glad."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@3-2-whump @risk606

@electrons2006 @paperprinxe

@whumprince @kaz-of-crows

@mis-graves @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94

@sausages-things @sunglasses-in-the-bentley

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