#look at me writing in my native language for once

[ozai-the-bonsai]

Like Lovers Do

| Part 1 | Part 2 |

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Summary: You and Daemon would dream about marrying each other before both of you became victims of political marriages, very much against your wills: he was sent to the Vale and you to the Riverlands. However, when your lord husband passes away, you return to King’s Landing, only to find out that your childhood sweetheart is now wearing a crown of his own.

A/N: I am finally back for the Daemon x reader fics, you lovely people! I hope you still remember me after that loooooooooong gap... Anyways, I once again wrote too much and couldn't even get to the point I was heading - I intended this story to be a one-shot but it seems I will be writing another chapter for the spicy stuff ;) I hope you enjoy it! (I am also open to any Daemon requests you might have for me!)

Warnings: I am not a native English speaker, strong language

Taglist: @throughgoeshamilton @mirandastuckinthe80s @xicesam @mariamyousef702 @eddiemadmunson @dont-try-pesticide @sweetybuzz25 @hc-geralt-23 @schniiipsel @ttae-yong @syrma-sensei @asiludida164 @kaitieskidmore1 @irmavanity-blog @pax-2735 @trickrtreatart @shanzeyxsyed @random-human02 @scarwicht @xcallmetaniax @instabull @niiight-dreamerrrr @my-dark-prince @stargaryenx @abaker74 @babywolff @sonnensplitter @bi-narystars @softtina

You had almost forgotten the way his voice sounded.

Fourteen long years had it been, the last time you were given the privilege to let your eyes wander on his handsome face as long as they desired.

You had expected time to have changed you in all the possible ways anyone could ever imagine, the years you had spent at the Riverlands being no different than a bird in a cage did harden you to your very core; however, the moment his sweet voice reached your ears again, you felt yourself melting just as you did when you were six-and-ten.

For the first time in fourteen years; for the first time after you had left King's Landing, you were feeling the warmth in your heart again, waking up from its deep slumber, melting the frost that used to be your heart.

At first, you hadn't even believed it when you heard the whispers roaming the castle about the return of the Rogue Prince.

"Prince Daemon is back," the whispers had said, "and he is wearing a crown."

King of the Narrow Sea? You had thought to yourself, following the crowds into the Throne Room. Is he going to challenge his brother now? Have the years turned him completely mad?

And now, you were watching him, King of the Narrow Sea, give up his crown to King Viserys.

He really is back.

After the ceremony in the Throne Room was over, the Royals and the Small Council moved to the Godswood to celebrate the Prince's victory over the Triarchy. You weren't quite sure whether it was expected of you to join them; however, upon seeing the way your father looked at you, you decided to follow them. Your heart was racing as if it was trying to break free from your chest.

Your father's position in King Jaehaerys’ and after him King Viserys’ Small Council had allowed you an easy, enjoyable life within the walls of the Red Keep, allowing you to share the early years of your youth with Prince Daemon, growing up alongside him.

Until he decided it was time for you to marry a rich lord and be shipped to the Riverlands, of course. You had known long before your father made his decision that you would, sooner or later, have to marry someone - preferably some lord from one of the Great Houses.

However, you had expected your father to come to you with this delicate matter first, instead of shaking hands with the lords as if he was doing some kind of trade.

"I do not care about some stupid lord in the Riverlands," you had told your father upon hearing the terrible news about your future. "I am going to marry Prince Daemon, Father. How can you even begin to compare him with any other man in the Seven Kingdoms?"

"Prince Daemon is going to the Vale," your father had responded in a cold voice. It made you realize he had wished for you to become the Prince's wife perhaps even more than you yourself had. "It has been decided that he is to take Lady Rhea Royce as his wife." Upon seeing the tears beginning to form in your eyes, your father had held your hands. "I am sorry, my sweet girl, but there is no other way."

Even though you had known all these years, deep down, that your father's only wish was for you to have an easy, wealthy life (and at the meanwhile keeping his good connections, and establishing relations with the strong houses), the anger you had been feeling never really faded away.

Yes, you had led a wealthy life for the last fourteen years; however, being the second wife of a (compared to your six-and-ten self) fairly old lord had taken all the happiness you had ever known from you. It was almost as if you had forgotten how to enjoy life...

After arriving at the Godswood - since the Red Keep was enormous, it always took ages to get from one place to another - you too poured yourself a glass of red wine as you stood beside your father. King Viserys and some other members of the Small Council were talking with Prince Daemon, mostly about the war against the Triarchy.

Somehow, it seemed like Daemon didn't even notice you were there, maybe he didn't really recognise you after all those years - you couldn't say.

Until King Viserys saw you standing next to your father, the Master of Coins.

The King's face lightened with a bright smile as he turned his eyes to his younger brother, placing his left hand on Daemon's shoulder. "Brother, you surely remember Lord Beesbury's lovely daughter," the King spoke with a delightful tone. "She has, too, recently returned to King's Landing."

The world froze around the two of you when Daemon's purple eyes met yours. Every other person standing there with you faded away, and all the other sounds melted into silence until it was just you and him, the same memory playing in front of your eyes.

"I am going to make you my Queen one day," Daemon whispered in your ear. "I promise you."

You were out at the Godswood, sitting under the moonlight - both of you had to be around sixteen, it was shortly before the calamity that was your marriage.

You raised an eyebrow in his direction. "So you plan on winning me and the Iron Throne?" You asked him, only to earn a cocky smirk.

"You would be surprised to see what I am capable of, my Lady."

I have seen what you are capable of, my Prince, you thought as you came back to reality. You were breathing heavily. Capable of winning a war without the support of the Crown, earning your very own crown - but you still gave it up to your brother.

To prevent the awkward silence from getting any longer, Daemon quickly wore his famous smirk as he nodded at the King. "Of course, how could I not," he spoke with a charming aura surrounding him. Taking a step towards you, the Prince held your right hand gently and brought it to his lips. "It has been many years, my Lady." The Prince told you. "Though, it is somewhat unfair that the years have not touched your beauty, not in the slightest."

The poker face, which only showed a humble smile fitting of a lady of your position, would never give away that you were, in fact, dying inside. Feeling his lips and his touch for the very first time in fourteen years had hit you like a wall of bricks.

"You flatter me, my Prince," you spoke with your best I-am-a-noble-lady tone. "Congratulations on your victory."

Before continuing the conversation with his brother and the other Lords, Daemon gave you a small nod - only you realised that he had allowed his eyes to linger on your face longer than they needed to.

[Time Skip}

"I wasn't expecting to see you here again, after all those years."

Hearing his velvet voice, you raised your head to look at Daemon, who was standing to your right. Fixing your silver dress and crossing one leg over the other, you waited for him to continue speaking.

"Why aren't you at the Rivenlands?"

You raised an eyebrow at the Prince as you responded while mimicking the same cocky tone he always used. "Why haven't you been at the Vale all those years?"

The edge of Daemon's lips curled upwards as he shook his head, he was wearing a red, long-armed tunic under his long, black cloak - proudly carrying the colours of his House. "Your attitude hasn't changed even in the slightest, love."

You rolled your eyes at him, keeping your attitude, not letting it falter under the heavy weight of the love your heart still carried for him. Of course, it would have been a lot easier to give into your heart's whispers and welcome him with arms wide open; however, you had grown overmuch furious with him over the years.

First and foremost, he had broken off every damn contact with you at an instant as soon as you had left King's Landing. You haven't heard from Daemon for fourteen years. News and gossip about his doings had reached your ears, of course, but not from Daemon himself.

And second, it had hurt you too fucking much when you saw he had done nothing to fight for your love. As the Prince, he could have had more of a say in the matter than you, but all he had done was tell you goodbye and disappear into the night. That was the last you had seen of him, fourteen years ago.

At first, you had thought that perhaps, Daemon had found the idea of marrying Lady Rhea Royce more appealing than marrying you. Until the news had reached the Riverlands about the Rogue Prince's failed marriage - not long after, he had returned to King's Landing, never to visit the Vale ever again.

Rhea Royce had never been what Daemon desired, and apparently, you too - else, he would have at least tried to find a way to arrange something, anything.

Placing your hands on your lap, you asked. "Can I be of further assistance to you, my Prince?"

"You can start by providing me with an answer, my Lady," Daemon said, arching an eyebrow in your direction. "Why did you return to King's Landing? Has your lord husband got a place in the Small Council now?"

"He has passed away," you spoke with a low voice while playing with your fingers. "A few months ago."

The Prince licked his lower lip. "I would wish to offer you my condolences, love," he spoke, "but I have never liked the sight of that cunt."

Your eyes widened with shock upon hearing his words, you hissed between your teeth. "Seven hells, Daemon!" The Prince shrugged in a careless manner. "Show at least some respect to the dead!"

"Will you be staying here?" he asked, earning a nod from you. "Why not stay at the Riverlands?"

This time, you turned your eyes away - his intense gaze was making you feel dizzy. "There is nothing for me there, at the Riverlands. My late husband's eldest nephew holds the Lord title now." Taking a deep breath, you leaned forward to pour yourself some wine. "You see, we didn't have any children to inherit my late husband's position, hence there was no more need for me."

Upon feeling Daemon's hand closing on top of yours, you quickly raised your head to look at him. Gently, the Prince took the carafe from your hands to pour you a glass of wine. With slow movements, he handed you the glass.

"I thought the whole idea behind you marrying that old man was to provide him with heirs," Daemon spoke, his purple eyes lighting with curiosity. He didn't even explicitly ask about the reason behind the failure but you could easily read it from the way he looked.

"We did try, for years, but..." Taking a moment, you took a big sip from your wine. "He could have tried with a dozen other women for another ten years and it still wouldn't have changed anything."

Daemon pursed his lips upon understanding the meaning behind your words. "I see, this explains why he didn't have any heirs from his first marriage, too." You nodded. "Good riddance, should I say now? At least you are free from that burden of yours."

"As if you cared about me or my burden," you snorted. Upon seeing the confused look inside his eyes, you first drank your half-empty glass - all at once - and then stood up. Raising your head, you looked Daemon in the eye, your faces standing dangerously close to each other. "It has been fourteen fucking years, Daemon," you spoke with a low voice but still, your fury could be heard in every word. "And not one fucking raven from you. You just walked away from my life, as if I meant nothing to you!"

Towards the end, your tone tended to become higher, thus you took a deep breath to keep yourself under control. From the corner of your eye, you could see Queen Alicent and your father taking a curious look in your direction.

With his left hand, Daemon held you firmly on your right wrist as he whispered, looking down at you. "You meant everything to me," he put emphasis on each word. "Don't you dare act as if you don't know it."

Your chest brushed against his with every breath, you could feel the warmth radiating off his body. At that very moment, the only thing you wanted was for Daemon to push you against the stone wall behind you and kiss you until you couldn't remember your own name anymore.

With slow movements, Daemon leaned into your ear, his warm breath brushing against your neck. You didn't even realise you were pressing your lips against each other - your breaths were heavy, your head felt dizzy and you slowly got drunk with his smell surrounding you.

"Do you have any idea," the Prince whispered in your ear, his voice full of sex appeal. You could melt right then and there, inside his arms. "How many nights I have spent, thinking about you?"

Back then, when you were both young and in love, Daemon had never touched you other than sharing small kisses (and rarely not-so-small kisses) for you wanted to wait until marriage.

In retrospect, you believed your younger self to have been too naive and, well, young - after seeing one could in fact do whatever they desired as long as it was discrete enough.

Now, all the lust and desire you both had been bottling up for years came to the surface.

Holding onto the last bits of your will, you took a step back, putting some visible distance between Daemon and yourself - so that you could think clearly once more.

"Then why," you asked, your voice sounding weaker than you wanted it to. "Why did you disappear from my life?"

The Prince cast a quick look at the curious people around you - some of the council members seemed kind of interested in your conversation with Daemon since they were sending curious looks in your direction every other second.

Muttering something under his breath - he was probably cursing at the nosiness of the people - Daemon quickly put on one of his most charming smiles. "Perhaps the lady would like to grant me the honour of dining with her this evening," he spoke with his velvet-like voice as he took your hand and brought it to his soft lips. The mild wind was causing his silver hair to sway ever so gently. "Where we can discuss further, as long as she likes."

Your heart skipped a beat.

Of course, you knew what his true intention was. This invitation was more than just a dinner where you could both scream at each other about the fourteen years you have lost - it was also to make up for all that time.

Your brain was shouting at you, telling you that you were making a big mistake - the Prince was still married, even though his marriage had been a bigger failure than yours - but your desires were stronger.

"I would love to, my Prince." The words left your lips before you could even think.

Daemon winked at you before leaving Godswood. "I will be waiting for you in my chambers, love."

[hsunrry]

summer house // one shot harry styles

harry styles x fem!reader

summary: you agreed to be “civil” with your enemy.

words: ~2,7k

tropes: enemies (just at the beginning)

warnings: smut18+, oral (m receiving), protected sex, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, dirty talk (degradation, praise), slight size kink, mention of using sex toy

a/n: hi! so this is my first time writing something like this not in my native language, so i hope it’s not too bad! (PART 2)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you and your two friends; Jenna and Matthew just arrived to Matthews’s summer house. you unpacked your stuff in your room and decided to go eat something downstairs. your eyes widened when you saw him. “what are you doing here?”

“i could ask you the same question.” he narrowed his brows. he looked at Jenna and Matthew that were sitting on the couch. “care to explain what is she doing here?”

“well, guys, you see…” Jenna started talking but you interrupted her.

“hope you guys at least know what you’re signed up for, inviting us both under one roof.” you said, clearly pissed, because honestly what the fuck. you looked at Harry and he had this stupid grin on his face. you rolled your eyes and went upstairs to your room. you could already feel him staring at your ass.

“i’m starting to think it wasn’t good idea at all.” Matthew mumbled. Harry was obviously pissed as well but he decided to act like an adult. he went upstairs where your room is. he knocked few times.

“yeah?” you responded, grabbing package of cigarettes and lighter from your bag.

“can i come in?” you heard him and you immediately rolled your eyes.

“no.” you said shortly, going in the direction of the balcony.

“oh come on, i just want to talk, give me 5 minutes of your time.” he said almost pleadingly.

“fine, come inside.” you said and you watched him walking inside with this stupid grin still plastered to his face. “what do you want?”

“to talk. can i borrow a smoke?” he leaned against the door, pointing at the cigarettes in your hand with his head. you raised your eyebrow and gestured him to go with you. he smirked and when you went outside you were both leaning on the railing. you placed cigarette between your lips and you lighted it. you raised the package towards him so he can grab one for himself. he grinned and he wrapped his lips around it, taking lighter from you as well. “thanks.”

“so what do you want?” you asked, grabbing lighter back from him. he hesitated before answering you.

“i just want us to get along for the summer, truce.” you only scoffed at his words. “come on, i’m serious. i know we’re not fans of each other, but i really don’t want to have shitty summer just because we have to be under one roof.”

“hate to say it, but maybe you’re right. for once of course.” you said, inhaling smoke. he looked at you surprised.

“wow, did you actually admit we should get along?” stupid grin again and urge to just kiss it off his face getting stronger.

“no, i admit we should be civil for Jenna’s and Matthew’s sake.” you said, looking in front of you at the dark forest, where the lake was shining from the moon between trees.

“fine, whatever you call it, princess.” he grinned, looking directly at you. “you’re staying for whole summer?”

you nodded. “you?”

“same, whole summer with you. lovely.” he took long drag from his cigarette.

“i thought we agreed to be civil.” you rolled your eyes and exhaled smoke.

“we did. it doesn’t mean i can’t tease you a bit.” he smiled, showing his dimples. you shook your head but small smile still appeared on your face. “looks like you’re enjoying it.”

“enjoying is a big word.” you said, rolling cigarette between your fingers.

“then what would you call it then?” his eyes never leaving your silhouette. you just shrugged. his eyes were focused on your face. “you look good when you smoke.” you narrowed your brows and you looked at him when he said that. his eyes widened slightly, of course it slipped. he tried to shrug it off so he just continued with it. “what? just because we don’t like each other doesn’t mean i can’t find you attractive.”

“maybe, yeah, i guess.” you mumbled, taking last drag from cigarette and extinguishing it on the railing. you tossed it somewhere to the forest. he did the same, looking at the stars.

“what are you gonna do for the rest of the night?” he asked, clearly interested for some reason.

“sleep, smartass.” you smiled slightly, looking into the forest. you could practically heard how his eyes rolled at your comment.

“i figured that much, what i meant is that it’s pretty early still.” he said, looking back at you now. you shrugged.

“i’m gonna lay in bed i guess, i won’t be sleeping till 4 am or something probably.” you said casually, fidgeting with lighter in your hand. he narrowed his brows.

“it’s because of your nightmares?” he asked almost immediately. you froze your movements.

“how do you know i have nightmares?” you asked, clearly taken aback from his question. he cleared his throat.

“i might overhead once when we were still in high school, when you were talking about it with Jenna.” you rolled your eyes at his words.

“okay, it’s whatever, we’re not talking about it.” you said and you started going into the direction of your room. he followed you. “i’ll try to fell asleep, good night Harry.”

“yeah, good night y/n.” he mumbled just before leaving your room. you sighed and went to the dresser, grabbing oversized t-shirt to sleep in and black panties. you quickly changed and you hopped into the bed. your joy from falling asleep fast never lasted long. you woke up with a scream. another nightmare. few seconds passed and Harry bursted through the doors. he watched your horrified expression and he immediately went to sit on the bed with you. he wrapped his arms around you, without hesitation. “everything’s okay, i’m here, you’re safe.” not thinking for long you went to sit astride his lap, hugging him and nuzzling into his neck. he wrapped his arms around your waist, rubbing your back with his hands.

“i’m sorry.” you mumbled into his neck. your lips brushing against his skin and you could feel goosebumps appearing in this place. “for waking you up.”

“don’t apologize, it’s all good.” he responded quietly. his breath hitched in his throat when he felt your lips on his skin. “come on, look at me.” you pulled out from his neck. he cupped your cheek and stroked it with his thumb. “you okay?”

“yeah.” you said quietly. your eyes darted to his lips for a second. you instinctively licked your lips and your eyes went back on his.

“baby, don’t do that.” he muttered, licking his own lips. your eyes went back to his lips.

“call me baby one more time and i’ll fuck you right here and now.” you almost gasped at this point. second later you felt his lips on yours in needy kiss. you kissed him back immediately, parting your lips slightly to feel his tongue. his hands gripped your ass firmly, causing your moan into the kiss. he pulled you closer and you could feel how hard he was already. boxers being only thing on his body wasn’t helping at all in this situation. you went down with your hand to palm him over his boxers.

“fucking hell.” he gasped into the kiss when you started moving your hand. he squeezed your ass, another moan escaped your lips. he pulled out from the kiss to kiss and suck on your neck instead.

“fuck.” you gasped. he removed one of his hands from your ass and he slid it into your panties. you moaned at sudden action.

“so fucking wet for me already.” he groaned into your neck after starting tracing circles over your clit, making you squirm on his lap. he removed his hand from your panties to quickly take off your shirt. his hands touched your waist, going up to your naked breast. “so beautiful, y/n.” he said, wrapping his lips around your nipple to suck on it. his hand went to your other breast to squeeze it. “we have to go to my room for condom baby.”

“i have one.” you gasped, tangling your fingers in the back of his hair. he let go of your nipple and he looked at you.

“you planned fucking someone in this house or what?” he chuckled, leaving kisses on your breast.

“no, i’m using it for dildo sometimes.” you said, swallowing quietly. he stopped his actions and he looked at you. his eyes dark and you could tell his mouth dried from your words. grip on your hips tightened. images of you playing with yourself going through his head. you gripped his chin. “you’re fucking imagining it, aren’t you?”

“you can’t just say that and expect me to not do that.” he laughed devilishly. “besides… i wish you’d let me watch sometime.” he smiled slyly. you could feel you’re getting even wetter from his words.

“you’d like to watch, huh? you’re so fucking dirty.” you said, pressing your lips on his. “what would you do while watching me playing with that toy?” you mumbled against his lips. he groaned at the thought.

“i’d sit with my cock painfully hard, waiting for you to tell me when i can touch myself.” he gasped into your lips. you moaned into the kiss at this words. “now on your knees baby, you’ll show how much you want me.” you got down in front of him when he was sitting on your bed. he quickly took off his boxers, freeing his huge cock from it. you started drooling only from sight of him.

“of course you’re fucking big.” you gasped, spitting on his dick. he chuckled softly at your words, but it changed into the loud moan when you started stroking him. you leaned down, wrapping your lips around his tip. he inhaled sharply.

“feels so good already y/n. your pretty lips looking so good on my cock.” he praised and you almost moaned at his words. you started moving up and down on him, hollowing your cheeks inside. your tongue working on him. you wrapped your hand on the shaft where your lips didn’t reach to stroke him. his hand went to grab your hair. “sucking me like a fucking slut, such a good girl.” he was panting. you moaned around him at this words. you picked up your pace, looking up at him. his head tilted back and he was breathing heavy. “you’re so good for me, fuck, keep doing that and i’ll come so fast.” and oh god, you didn’t even thought about stopping it. you felt his thighs started to shake slightly since your one hand was placed on it. his grip on your hair tightened, his moans became shaky and uneven. “baby i’m gonna come, can i come inside this pretty mouth of yours?” he looked down at you, and you nodded immediately. after few movements of yours you felt him filling your mouth with his cum. his dick was twitching in your mouth. you slowed down your movements to help him come down from his high. you sucked him clean, swallowed everything and then let go of him. you were panting just like him. he immediately lifted you up to his lap and crushed his lips on yours. when he pulled out he gasped. “you’re so fucking amazing, you did so good for me.”

“i’m glad you enjoyed.” you smiled slightly at him. he chuckled softly.

“enjoyed is not right word sweetheart, i fucking loved that.” he smiled, stroking your hair. “i’m gonna make you feel so good you’ll forget your name.” he lifted you up with him and your back met the mattress. your panties were suddenly gone and you watched him getting on top of you. “gonna finger you a little, yeah?” he gasped into your lips and without waiting for your response he slid two fingers inside you, knuckles deep. “so fucking wet.”

“holy fuck.” you moaned and your back arched from sudden action. you felt his fingers curling into perfect angle, pumping in and out.

“already clenching around my fingers, can’t wait to feel you on my dick.” he kissed your lips hungrily while fingering you. after few seconds he pulled out his fingers, bringing it to his mouth and sucking them clean. “fucking delicious y/n, you taste devine.” he opened the drawer of your nightstand. with condom in his hand he started to stroke himself, watching you and your body all the time. his lips were slightly parted and his cock already hard, ready to take you. he quickly opened the wrapper and rolled it onto himself. it was in fact a little tight on his length. his hands parted your legs as he positioned himself between them. his tip teasing your entrance, causing your moan. “gonna take me like a good girl?”

“yes.” you gasped, looking into his eyes. he entered you slowly, stretching your walls perfectly. you grabbed his bicep, digging your nails in it. your head tilted back from overwhelming feeling of how big he is. “fuck, Harry!”

“yeah? like how my dick is filling you to the brim?” he grabbed your nipple between his teeth, biting it softly. “you’re so fucking tight, already squeezing me deliciously.” his tongue flickered over your nipple.

“oh my god.” you moaned, arching your chest towards his lips. he started moving slowly at first, letting you get used to the feeling. “feels fucking good.”

“fuck, swallowing me whole with your pussy like goddamn whore. this condom of yours feels so tight on me y/n.” he panted, going slightly faster.

“then take it off, i’m on birth control.” you gasped, arching your back when he picked up the pace.

“holy shit, you sure?” you nodded at his question. he pulled out and he quickly took it off, tossing it somewhere on the floor. he groaned when he felt you raw like that. “fuck, y/n… gonna paint your fucking walls just right.” you moaned feeling him like this. he started moving so fast. you wrapped your legs around his hips to give better angle for yourself. when he adjusted you could feel him hitting your sweet spot with every move and you almost cried out of pleasure at that. “fucking found it, feels good?”

“so good, yeah.” you panted. his hands went on your hips to go even faster and you already could see the starts. your eyes rolled back and your whole body arched.

“you look like a fucking goddess like that y/n.” he panted, moving faster. “can tell you’re already close the way you clenching on my cock. gonna come for me baby?” his hand traveled to your clit to rub it and it was your last button, it all felt almost like too much.

“fuck, Harry, yes, oh my god!” you trembled when he started rubbing your clit. your pussy clenching on his cock hardly. “i’m so close, please.”

“my pleasure you fucking cunt.” he panted, moaning just after his words. he was on the edge. “come for me y/n. need you to come for me now.” you nodded.

“Harry, holy fuck!” you cried out when you came around his cock. your walls clenching around him and your juices milking him. your whole body arched and trembled.

“jesus, y/n.” he moaned loudly and you felt him coming deep inside you. hot sperm strands painting your walls and his dick pulsating inside of you. you both were breathing heavy. he collapsed on top of you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. he placed few kisses there, before pulling out from your neck to look at you. “you’re amazing y/n.”

“you’re amazing too.” you managed to say after few seconds of heavy breathing. he placed few pecks on your lips before pulling out. you gasped at the feeling.

“fuck, this looks amazing babe.” he said, shamelessly looking at your pussy that was dripping from your mixed juices. “gonna get something to clean you up.” he said, going to the bathroom for towel, wetting it with warm water. he quickly but carefully cleaned you up. he laid down next to you, pulling you into his embrace, kissing your temple. “can’t wait already to watch you playing with that dildo of yours.”

PART 2

[rileyslibrary]

No, soldier, no.

Synopsis: You have been transferred to a British military base to work with Ghost on a new mission. As a non-native English speaker, you are not very keen on British slang/culture and need some time to pick up on things. Ghost tries to help you navigate through your language barriers and finds it rather amusing in the process. 

Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1,287

Notes: 

Dedicated to all the non-native English speakers like myself who are trying their best and to the native English-speaking friends who teach us without judgment.

I’m not good at writing combat and action scenes yet, so I gave them another sedentary job once again.

You voted fluff; I give you something similar—a cute crackfic.To those who voted angst, I’ll give it to you next time, promise.

WARNING: Swearing. Again.

Want more?

———————————————————————

“And this,” you point at the spread map on the table, “is the enemy’s safe house.”

He looks at the pinpoint with furrowed eyebrows, giving small and repeated nods. 

“Did we get clearance on what time to strike?” He asks, his eyes fixed on the mark as if he’s conversing with that little red pin. 

“No sir, not yet,” you reply, “the Captain will come shortly to brief us on that matter.”  

 He stands up straight. His focus is still fixed on the map, trailing with his eyes along the road you marked. “Who’s coming with us?” He asks.

“Captain left some files on your desk, sir,” you explain, “he said that we should go through them together and choose the right recruits for the job.”

“Together?” he turns at you with the same expression he was looking at the pinpoint.

“Yes, sir, together.” 

“I can do that on my own, soldier.”

“Of course, you can,” you say, “but this is a joint mission, and I get to have some saying as well, no?”

“No.” He states.

“No?”

“No.” He repeats. “I’ll lead them, so I’m the one who gets to choose the right people for my team,” he claims, walking to his desk to check on the new recruits’ files. 

You clear your throat. “And my side has to have a saying to that, sir.” You reply with as much authority as you can. 

He gives you a side eye, opens a file and begins to read, ignoring your statement. 

You knew he was difficult; they told you that much. Simon “Ghost” Riley likes to work alone, they said. And when you asked them what this so-called Ghost does when he’s on a joint mission with other forces, they replied with the same statement; that he’s being difficult. 

But you have worked with difficult people before. Most of them are like that in the force, especially regarding hierarchy. Little did he know that you had the upper hand in this situation. Difficult people hate having to deal with other difficult people.

“No problem,” you say, acting agreeable, “I just want to warn you that some of the people in those files are not very obedient and don’t like to be ordered around.”

“There’s no such thing in the army, soldier.”

“Oh, but there is, lieutenant,” you say, hiding a smile, “especially if they’re the Captain’s godson or the General’s nephew; they tend to slack a lot.”

“Fucking bastards,” he swears and rolls his eyes. He leaves the file before him and picks the rest of the pile, swearing profanities. He begins shuffling through the papers with eagerness. You speculate he’s trying to find the people you’re referring to. A sign that indicates a blood relation with the General, birth certificates, notes that specify who baptised who, perhaps. Of course, he can’t find anything, and he gives up. 

“Which of these fuckers are they?” he finally asks, throwing the papers on his desk.

“May I approach your desk to show you, Lieutenant?” You ask out of politeness.

“Oh, no, no need to do that, Y/N,” he replies sarcastically. He looks at the mess he created with the scattered papers, “just point them to me telepathically, and I’ll discard them.”

You stare at him, and he meets your gaze. You didn’t get any definite answer from him, so you are waiting for a clear answer, just like they taught you to do ever so obediently. Unfortunately, he misunderstands your stance.

“Please tell me you’re not actually trying to send me information via brainwaves, soldier,” he comments with a desperate tone.

“I was just waiting for an answer, Lieutenant.” You explain. 

He keeps staring at you before he lets another exhale and rubs his eyes. 

“Yes, Y/N,” he says, opening his arms wide, almost theatrically. “You may approach my desk and pinpoint those brats at me, just like you did with that checkmark before on the map.”

You nod and do as you are told. You sit opposite Ghost’s desk and start sorting out the messy papers. “Apologies, sir,” you say, “sometimes it’s tough to understand when you’re being sarcastic.”

He looks at you dumbfounded. “At what point did you think I wasn’t being sarcastic when referring to telepathy?” He asks.

“Well, it was between sarcastic or angry, sir,” you explain, looking embarrassed, “and I didn’t want to take my chances.” 

He rubs his forehead and stays still for a while. You peak at him from the corner of your eye; he looks like he’s calming down, contemplating. As if he’s reflecting on his actions.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says, “I sometimes forget we have a language barrier.”

“And cultural.” You add.

“And cultural.” He agrees.

You both begin to collaborate on the recruits’ profiles. You discard the ones you know are not fit for the job (i.e. the ones that will clash with Ghost and his personality) and hand him the shortlisted ones. He begins muttering something about “CROW bags”, and you look at him like a puppy trying to understand the “sit” command. He patiently explains that “CROW bags” stand for “Combat Recruit Of War”, which, in the British army, is a soldier fresh out of training, a newbie, and therefore not fit for the job. When you ask him what the “bag” means, he shrugs and says he doesn’t know. You shortlist five profiles you’re both happy with and agree to wrap them up. You lean on the desk and stand up.

“Sir,” you say, still leaning on the table, “you need to change your desk.”

“What’s wrong with it?” He asks.

“It’s wanky, sir.”

You’ve never seen him turn with such force to look at you. He shakes his head vigorously like he’s forcing thoughts to travel from his brain to his mouth.

“I’m sorry,” he says, trying to suppress a laugh, “my desk is what?”

“Wanky,” you repeat with confidence, “all this time that we’ve been going back and forth with the files, the table was wanking.”

“The table was…” he leans back in his chair and covers his already concealed mouth with his gloved hand.

“…wanking, sir,” you complete his sentence, “here, look,” and proceed to shake the unsteady desk.

“You need to either get a new desk or screw this one better, sir.” You advise him, now examining the desk’s legs. He pinches his nose’s bridge and murmurs something like “table, you fucking wanker” under his breath before finally gathering the courage to explain.

“No, soldier, it’s not—“

But as he speaks, Captain Price interrupts your conversation and walks into the office. He looks at Ghost, who is almost teary-eyed from the suppressed laugh and then at you.

“What are you two up to?” He asks with a smile, holding his tactical vest with his thumbs in its pockets. Ghost gestures for him to stop talking.

“I was just telling the lieutenant—” you begin, but Ghost interrupts you.

“The table is wonky, or rather wobbly, and I need to tighten the bolts.” He says and gives you a meaningful look. Epiphany strikes you, and you widen your eyes.

Price shakes the desk and looks at you both. “Look at that,” he says, “you’re right, Y/N”, and shoots you one of his signature smiles, only to be met by the red hue that has spread across your face from embarrassment and eyes threatening to bolt from your head. You lower your head in response. Price moves his gaze from you to Ghost in confusion.

“We managed to shortlist a few, Capt,” he says to Price changing the conversation.

“Very well,” Price says. “Any good?”

“Yes,” you reply, “only the good ones—no CROW bars.”

“It’s bags, kid,” Ghost whispers, and Price chuckles slightly, “CROW bags.”

———————————————————————

[jinkiezzsstuff]

Alastor watching the princess and the frog by Disney ? It’s in lousiana in the 1920s so it would be perfect for him

absolutelyyyyyyy the princess and the frog is one of my fav disney movies from characters to soundtrack, so this one’s a bit longer. also kind of a part two but also not exactly

history ramble below

also i did some light research on new orleans history because if im gonna write alastor i should know. doggy i love me some history and this history is rich, depressing at times but also rich and meanful to know so i thought id share a little. from talking about the free the peoples movement, to the way women got their rights to their hair back that they didn’t have when enslaved only to have a law banning natural hair and hair wraps and so they decorated the wraps and used coloured fabrics effectively rendering the law useless, to the wealthiest black man of the 1870s for being a prospering business owner, the origins of how voodoo and other spiritual practices mingled perfectly with the pre established voodoo and how voodoo was predominantly black women who were highly respected, the first black man to be govoner in the united states in only 1871, a black woman named Rose Nicaud who opened the first coffee stand in 1800 and made enough to escape being ensalved. then there’s lighter topics like some of the jazz history and how it made various black stars like louie armstrong, and also how the language mingled to make the cajun french that’s sadly dying out, to the architecture that flourished through the varying clashes in culture between african, european, native and haitian peoples. if it’s not too upsetting to read i definitely suggest this page to have an insight on some of the quick history on new orleans, i enjoyed learning about the strength that many had during this time.

United teachers of new orleans < page i was reading

Warnings: jealous Al teehee, reader crushes on naveen and dr facilier (don’t mind me just projecting), cuddling, swearing, alastor doesn’t really know emotions good, fluffy banter, just some ushy gushy mushy tushy

Word count: 2k

The movie Bambi didn't even finish playing before the patrons started to filter out of the room heading to bed. First to go was Vaggie carrying a sleeping Charlie, Sir pentious promptly following along telling his fussy egg boys it was long past their bed time. Then it was Niftys turn to disappear, however she never said a goodnight only sped off leaving behind her vacant swishing rocking chair.

Then once Angel and Husk left, you had decided to just call it quits on Bambi, Alastor hadn't moved much or objected to you turning off the movie, only watching the projector as you scrolled through the app.

You stopped on the princess and the frog, grinning toward Alastor he sighed, getting a glimpse of your mischief from the corner of his eye. "Now what's this about darling?" Turning your body towards his fully facing him, you waited for his gaze to finally meet yours, and reluctantly it did. "Allow me to introduce you to one of, if not, thee best disney movies of all time; the princess and the frog," Alastor's finger rose as he took a breath to speak, but before he could say a word you interrupted him.

"Yes I know princess yuck, whatever Al. It takes place in New Orleans, its main focus is actually in the poorer area with the shotgun houses, and throughout the movie Tiana, the princess, travels through the bayou, oh! With Naveen one of the hottest princes, also it takes place in the twenties, oh!-" Before you could continue Alastor gently gripped your cheeks, your lips puckering involuntarily as he did so."What did you just?"

"Takes place in the nineteen twenties?" You asked, voice muffled from Alastors grip on your cheeks. "Before that dear." Your eyebrows raised looking at Alastor not trying to hide your confusion. "Naveen? One of the hottest princes?" Alastor hummed, booping your nose. "Yes dear, that."

"Yeah. duh dude he's one of the few princes that deserve the princess, he changes for Tiana, he's charismatic, funny, but nevermind that back to what i was saying. There's varying New Orleans culture littered through that might make you feel closer to home, all the music is jazz obviously." Opening your mouth readying to rant on about the Voodoo man that you adored, Alastor hushed you with his finger up to your lips.

"My sweet dear, I will watch this silly picture show so long as you stop rambling about it." Alastor wasn't truly done with hearing your rambling, he was enjoying hearing that you were such a fan of something that centred so close to home when it came to him however if he was going to watch it he rather not have it spoiled.

Giddily you clasped your hands together and hit play, your love for the film and excitement to see Alastors reaction may have made you slightly over enthusiastic just a bit. As the movie began you curled your feet up onto the couch, inching yourself closer to Alastor looking up to his face and back to the movie.

When Naveen got introduced on screen you accidentally gripped Alastors arm tightly shaking him. "My mannn~" You squealed happily, letting go of Alastor once you heard the unmistakable rattle come from him, a growl sounding out of his chest. You didn't pay much attention to him though, instead turning back to the projector and backing off Al. However Alastor wasn't too frustrated with the fact you touched him, but because you were being so ushy gushy over some fake man.

He was easily the same if not better than Naveen. Alastor was charismatic, charming, he could sing, play instruments, he didn't quite understand why you were so particularly interested in this Naveen. Hell, even Alastor had a similar outfit back when he was alive, he could've been Naveen when he was alive.

You didn’t notice Alastor having a mini tantrum in his own world, you were too engrossed in the movie. Suddenly you’ve gripped him again, pointing at the screen. "The shadow man, Al this is your kin!" You egged laughing maniacally at your own words.

Alastor’s face however brightened at the display of the voodoo man. "One of my fav songs." You whispered as Dr. Facilier began singing on screen. Cocking his head to the side Alastor looked down to you bouncing along to the song. "This fellow sounds similar to Husk." Alastor mentioned, watching intently at the shadows that crawled around Dr. Faciliers room, much like Alastors own shadows. "Yeah it really does sound like Husk. Strange, anyways, Dr. Voodoos hot too." Alastors static buzzed around the room and you had to hold back a giggle at the frustrated look on his face, despite the smile it was obvious he wasn't too happy.

"What's up Al, not liking the movie?" Static crackled around the two of you as you questioned him a little slyly as you could tell he wasn’t hating the movie. “No dear, it’s pleasant in comparison to some things i’ve grit myself through, however,” He paused watching you ogle at both the Dr and Naveen. “I can’t understand what’s so great about this Naveen you like. He’s a fool,” You scoffed at Alastors distaste for Naveen, you didn’t mean to make him feel frustrated at your adoration for the characters but it was endearing to see.

“What’s not to like about the man?” You state confidently but Alastor simply shrugged while humming indifferently. A beat of silence passed, the ending of the song playing out of the projector. “It’s just that,” Alastor started up again after a moment of silence, turning his body to face you hands folded in his lap politely. “You clearly have the odd reaction towards these gentlemen and I can't see why,” To give him credit he did look genuinely confused, and just as you were going to speak up he interrupted.

“And please do not say it’s because he is funny, charismatic, musically talented or sweet because I happen to hold all those same qualities!” He finished, hands thrown in the air like he said something especially spectacular. You had a soft smile present on your face watching him work through the sentence theatrically. “Well, Al you are, maybe i think the same about you?” Record scratch.

You cackled at his frozen state, patting his arm gently, cooing that you were only kidding, you turned back to the TV and the two of you decided to leave it at that.

Later on in the movie, when Tiana and Naveen are with the alligator going down the bayou singing about being human, you stared over at Alastor, your heart thumping at the sight of him. His arms were resting along the back of the couch, legs splayed out comfortably, posture sunken in, and his eyes lidded with a closed calm smile. His ear twitched and soon his eyes moved from the movie to you, quirking a questionable eyebrow at you.

Feeling slightly embarrassed for eyeing him up you tried to play it off by asking him a question. “Is there bayous in New Orleans, is that real?” You ask kinda dumbly, of course they were, you scolded yourself. Alastor didn’t seem to mind though he smiled widely, a chuckle reverberating out of him. “Why yes dear! Of course, I personally never lived close to the bayou, but it surrounds New Orleans, and I have been. It’s quite beautiful during a sunset but there’s tons of alligators.”

You leaned forward interested, but it seemed he’d stopped to refocus on the screen which you wouldn’t complain about. You not so discreetly leaned into his torso, arm still on the back of the sofa behind you, and thankfully he didn’t move when you leaned your body into him, instantly decompressing into his side.

They got to the scene where the gang is on the boat going through the bayou, the crocodile fitting in and playing jazz, when you turned to look up at Alastor seeing him already looking down at you. “What’s up?” You asked, watching as he scanned your face. “Well dear you’re just reminding me of home tonight, it would’ve been interesting to be able to show you where I lived, where I worked. Y’know when i did radio, most people didn’t know what I looked like so it came as quite a shock to some that I wasn’t what they imagined. Some were cruel, but my mother always taught me to be respectable if not respectful, so I managed to keep my grace.”

You giggle at his explanation watching him move his hand in all different directions, the radio host coming into play just at the mention of his job. “I’m flattered you would’ve wanted to show me your home n stuff, i wish it were possible.”

On the projector in front of you two, was the scene between Naveen and Tiana’s first date, where Naveen was going to propose. “They always get married so fast in these movies, you spend three days as a frog and suddenly it’s eternity!” You exclaimed humorously, Alastor scoffed an array of instrumental sounds electronically sounding out from him. “My dear it was common back in the day to get married quick, none of this lollygagging.”

You rolled your eyes blowing out air. “Would you get married to someone you knew for three days?” Alastor hummed, tapping his finger against his chin in exaggerated thought. “If it were you, perhaps, otherwise i’d attempt to lengthen it just a bit.” He reviled in the sight of you bashfully turning your head away, shy at his broad flirt. “You’d marry me, after only three days?” You questioned in disbelief, he hummed wrapping the arm he once had behind you, around you pulling you into him.

“Well I found you to be quite a treat the first day i met you, and decided i wanted to be around you for many days on. Is that not marriage worthy?” This confession shocked you slightly. You never expected him to say that he preemptively planned your blooming friendship nevermind that he equated that to being worth marriage. The movie played on in the background as you both watched each other’s faces.

“To me, dear,” Alastor started a smug smile stretching across his cheeks replacing the calm smile that stayed for so long. “It seems like you may unconsciously feel something towards me too.” Jaw dropping you stared at him confused. “What?” You scoff but Alastor only looked smugger.

“Come now, New Orleans centred movie? Jazz, cooking, even that dumbo man Naveen speaks french loves jazz music and dancing, oh and of course the ever so obvious voodoo, it’s almost like this movie is me, haha.” He laughed manically, eyes crossing as his body shook. It was quite the egotistical assumption on his part, but he wasn’t wrong.

You put it on for him but it seems for you too, you paid more attention to him half the movie, and you’ve been more interested in knowing real life facts about his home during his time then what story the movie was trying to tell. Maybe he was right, but even so what did him pointing it out accomplish? “Well that’s why i wanted to show you it, it’s got many aspects you’re involved with in it.”

You mentally gave yourself a pat on the back for such a good save, however Alastor was keen and knew you long enough to catch your lies. “Sure dear, sure.” Al gave you a condescending pat on the head and you speedily swatted at him. The movie played on you once more captivated by Alastor’s reactions more than the movie itself, you’ve already watched it enough to know.

Tucked under Alastor’s arm, warm and comfy, you barely caught the sound of Alastor huffing out chuckles, gazing up towards the projection you playfully hit him. “Don’t laugh at his death!” That only made Alastor properly laugh, dropping his head back, neck cracking grossly. “My dear it was a lightning bug in love with a star! He got stepped on that was hilarious!”

Sounds of prerecorded laughter sounded out with his natural laugh, you didn’t actually care that he found it funny, only pretended too as you gave him a disapproving glare. As the movie closed in you felt a weird gloom wash over you, it was nice being alone with him by his side while you two relaxed. You didn’t want it ending, but alas Tiana and Naveen kissed turning them human, with the reveal that with marrying Naveen, she became a princess effectively breaking the curse, and the movie started with the end song.

“Well dear I did enjoy that, the voodoo was pretty boringly unrealistic, but it’s for children. I did enjoy the mentioning of foods, very common dishes even I enjoy, like gumbo. But alas it was still a pathetic little movie about mortal love.” Standing to his feet when he finished speaking, Alastor dusted himself off and snapped his fingers making all around you revert to what it was before movie night.

“Do you not want to be in love?” You ask softly partly hoping he didn’t hear you as by the time you stood from your spot, you regret saying it. “Well I certainly haven’t looked. Why disappointed?” Alastor bent himself backwards to look at you since you stood behind him readying to exit. Looking down into his eyes you felt hazy, maybe a little drunk on desire as you gently caressed his cheek. “Maybe I am,”

“Darling.” Alastor said sternly as he cracked himself upward, he bent down facing you this time and before he could talk you once again interrupted. “Can’t blame me can you?” Alastor seemed momentarily taken aback, gazing around lazily trying to collect his thoughts. “My dear, I'm uncertain with emotions like this as well as expressing them, love is foolish, however… if you were to tell me ‘i love you’ i would say it back.”

It confused you, what Alastor said, you couldn’t tell if he was mocking you and telling you he was going to lie about his emotions to spare you, or if he was egging you on attempting to get you to tell him your true feelings. Regardless you swallowed down any worries for the future instead focusing only on the now, and looked deeply into the soft red glow of his eyes.

“I love you Al,” With a cheeky smile you watched him stutter, the visible shock was clear, and you wondered if he actually expected you to say that. Just as you began to worry you fucked up, he bent down to your height. “I love you too my dear,” And with that he gave you the chastised kiss on the lips, before standing to his full height materialising his microphone. “Got to go dear! Duty calls!” And with that he seemingly disappeared into the shadows, leaving you to waddle tiredly to your room. Little did you know that Alastor whisked himself away to have a minor panic attack in the safety of his radio tower, not believing himself and his broad actions, nor could he believe the pounding in his chest and flutter in his heart.

[johnbrand]

The Stages of Arabization

With @next-pharaoh

“Jeez, it’s so bright here,” Henry oriented his phone up in front of the sun, hoping to block out a few of the direct rays.

“Well, you are closer to the equator,” his boyfriend, Alex, joked. “Dubai is a bit farther south than Boston.”

Henry rolled his eyes, “What would I do without that intelligence of yours?” 

“Too bad you don’t have your own.” They both laughed at that remark. The pair had started dating in graduate school, with Alex venturing down the path of mathematics and Henry following the racial trends of Sub-Saharan Africa. Everyone joked it should have been the other way around, given Henry’s geeky, pale exterior fit the math nerd stereotype better than Alex’s lanky, darker frame. But Henry loved his studies, so much so that he had been invited to a conference in the United Arab Emirates to talk on them.

Suddenly, Henry received an email notification from one of his sponsors. “Dang, looks like I have to get back to work. Just received an essay to review before the next presentation.”

“How long do you have?”

“Barely 30 minutes.”

“Well forward it to me,” Alex replied. “We can tag team it. I know this isn’t my strong suit but at least I can help cover more ground.”

Henry thought that was a great idea. Without a second thought, he redirected the email and wished his boyfriend goodbye. Alex would send his thoughts over text when he had finished.

“‘The Stages of Arabization’,” Henry recited aloud. He was planning to head inside to read–gingers burnt way too easily in the direct sunlight–but he noticed the writing was pretty short. Barely even a page. Henry was surprised to realize the essay was in Arabic, but he quickly utilized a translator app to resolve the issue.

Stage 1: Islamization  Islam becomes the majority religion or state religion.

Strange formatting, but Henry understood the statement as rather truthful. The historically successful Arabizations of Morocco, Algeria, and Egypt had followed a similar suit. Even some of the countries he had studied had shown signs of this progression.

Stage 2: Linguistic Arabization Islam brings fixation on Arabic language, thus the Arabic language becomes central to the society's identity. Arabic becomes the state language.

Henry found this statement agreeable as well. There was something so methodical about the Arabic language, how it melodically ebbed and flowed in such a way that it twirled through the hearing canals directly into the brain. Anyone who listened to it almost became entranced, as if captured by its beauty and awakened by its fluidity. Henry closed the translator app before continuing on. 

Stage 3: Cultural Arabization Arab cultural practices become common due to Islamization. Own cultural heritage is deemed closer to ages of ignorance and thus gradually forgotten and replaced with Islam.

Henry had followed this trend through his research. Many of the countries he had analyzed over the years had demonized their traditional practices once introduced to Islamic culture. It was like watching a child being given a new toy; the original quickly discarded for one deemed far more superior. These assimilations had even started to appear in Henry’s life. Thobes were the new fashion craze among his fellow researchers, midday prayer rooms had taken over labs, and even the cafeteria had become completely halal.

Stage 4: Ethnic Arabization Planned migration of many Arab tribes and deliberate suppression of the numbers of natives, consequently major demographic shift. Media encourages Arabs to multiply and mix.

This too had arrived in the workplace. Rapidly, it had become obvious that the university was prioritizing hiring Arab and Arab-American employees. Political discourse on abortion had suddenly disappeared, instead dropping birth control from medical insurances and advertising “Reversion Through Fertilization”. Luckily, Hussein had not been influenced much by this change. In fact, he almost felt as if he was somehow a part of it.

Stage 5: Fully Arab State Arabs and the Arabized become elite and majority. Non-Arabized are shunned and pressured to revert until no opposition remains.

Hussein smiled with pride, closing the essay he was sure to give high remarks to. His best friend Ali had a similar response, a text from him glowing with praise about the truth in the writer’s words. The essay was eloquent, thought-provoking, and would become mandatory literature at his lab, and soon throughout the reverting world. It reflected the future, similarly to his own phone screen: masculine, virile Arab men. Hussein felt a divine sense of conformity with Islam, one all were soon destined to see.

[wheeboo]

seventeen and apologising to their s/o in their native language after a fight

PAIRING. seventeen x gn!reader GENRE: maybe more angsty than expected, hurt/comfort, headcanons WARNINGS. depictions of arguments, terms of endearment, mentions of kissing WORD COUNT. 1.8k

requested by @mirxzii: haii haii my rani ^^ idk if u saw this in the serv last night but!! svt members fighting w so and accidentally saying smthn mean (like i hate you) and they feel so bad they apologize to u in your native language to try n show how sincere they are :((

notes: i kinda dont like how i wrote this, but i hope it came out okay ^^ totally didn't write most of this at like 3am lkjdfsdf its vERY Rushed i wrote everyone past jeonghan in one setting lmasoo

choi seungcheol

"i can't stand this anymore!"

immediately feels that pang of regret in his chest, taking all the responsibility of his words deep in his heart. the heat of the moment had gotten to him and once he caught sight of you shriveling in the comfort of your arms and the tears forming in your eyes, he feels all that prior anger wash away as he reaches over to bring you in his arms, uttering out his apologies and feeling tears brimming in his own eyes.

once you've calmed down a bit, he'd whisper so softly just next to your ear, "i'm sorry," in your native language. "i'm so sorry."

you feel this strange wave of comfort wash over you, hearing him conveying his apologies in your native language bringing a different jump to your heart than what you've experienced.

yoon jeonghan

"so you want to break up? is that it?"

is usually calm and collected during arguments, but there was just a bit more hurt laced to his words than intended. he sees the way your words get caught in your mouth and the way your face distorts achingly. grabs your hand in his, half-expecting for you to let go, but you don't. cups your face with his other hand, thumbing away the tears streaming down your face. starts off with small reassurances and murmurs of apologies, before taking one long look at your face.

"i'm sorry, angel," he apologises in your native language. "i'm so sorry. i didn't mean it like that, i'm sorry."

there's a very inconspicuous lift to the corners of your lips at his words, and he finds himself letting out a soft sigh of relief when you hold his hand just a little bit tighter.

joshua hong

"i hate fighting with you."

you know he means it, even from the gap between you both on the couch and your energy depleted from your spewl of banter. you're both quiet now, and he knows that silence is just as bad as the hurtful words you both said to each other this night. sighing, he closes the space and cups your face gently in his hand, encouraging you to look up at him.

"can you... can you look at me?" he asks, and you do so hesitantly. your eyes meet his, and you can see the genuine regret in them. 'i'm so sorry. you know i love you more than anything. anything."

he says it in your native language, and it adds an extra layer of tenderness to the apologies leaving his mouth, and you can't help but faintly smile through the tears.

wen junhui

"maybe we're just better apart!"

his words hang torturously in the air, and he immediately regrets letting them slip from his lips, the panic beginning to course through his body. he watches as your eyes well up with tears, and he can't bear to see you hurting like this. reaches out to hold your trembling hands in his, his own hand shaking equally with yours.

"i-i'm sorry, i didn't mean it like that, pl-please don't cry, Y/N," he tells you nervously, the feature of your native tongue making your eyes widen. "i love you so much, and i don't want to be without you, please."

when you meet your eyes with his, you feel as if an arrow had shot through your own heart. all you do is silently reach to palm your hands over his this time, and he takes the chance to press a sweet kiss to your forehead.

kwon soonyoung

"you're being so difficult right now!"

his frustration had gotten the best of him at this ungodly hour in the middle of the night, yet he immediately regrets his harsh words when he sees the hurt in your eyes. at that very moment he swears he can just drop to his knees and wish your worries away, but he knows it isn't that easy. instead, he takes a step closer, hesitant hands at his side, before caressing your tears away with both of his thumbs.

"crap, i..." he loses his words for a moment, before letting out, "i'm so sorry, baby. i'm so so sorry. i just... i hate it when we fight. i'm sorry."

his words are quick, but you can pinpoint the remorse in them, especially when your heartbeat quickens upon hearing him say it in your native language. his eyes are pleading when you look back up at them as you give him a small smile.

jeon wonwoo

"i can't deal with your drama anymore."

his words cut deep like a knife, and he can see the pain in your eyes once it sets in what he just said. immediately regrets his choice of words and reaches out to pull you into a comforting hug. it's an impulsive act, he knows that it is, but he can't stand the feeling of the words he just said separating the two of you. not ever.

it takes him a few moments of relishing your presence in his grasp before murmuring, "i'm sorry, my love."

it's a very small, simple apology, yet one that warms your heart more than expected once you hear it in your native language. when you pull away from him slightly to look in his eyes, he says it again, each feeling like a new stitch to your heart.

lee jihoon

"you're impossible to talk to."

regrets his words as soon as they leave his mouth, and he feels his chest tighten with guilt as soon as he pinpoints the hurt in your eyes, quickly replacing whatever anger he had with worry. but for a second, he hesitates, and curses himself for doing so. yet when that wall finally breaks, he approaches you, gently taking your hands in his and squeezing them softly.

"i'm sorry, Y/N, " he says in your native language, voice quiet yet filled with sincerity. "i want to talk to you, i just got frustrated, and i... i'm sorry. i really am."

hearing him apologise in your language makes you feel understood, and you offer a nod, even with the tears still brimming in your eyes.

xu minghao

"i'm done with this conversation."

he didn't mean for it to get this far, but he knows right away that resolving this wouldn't get anywhere if you two didn't talk it out properly. and you know it too, seemingly not having moved from where you stood as you gaze at him with a look of defeat. there's just something about it that makes his face soften, and he steps back up to you.

"i'm sorry," he confesses simply in your native tongue, yet it's enough to convey his genuineness. "i never want to push you away like this. let's talk this out, okay?"

you feel the sense of comfort hit you, and you give him a nod, interlocking your hand with his and letting him lead you to the couch.

kim mingyu

"you're making this harder than it needs to be."

it comes out harshly, more than he expected it to be, that it's even enough to shatter his own heart at his own words. his frustration is quick to dissipate when he hears the way your breathing is shaking in the silence, and from the tears starting to form on your eyes. it hurts, gosh it hurts so bad to see you like this. steps back up to you, grabbing your hands and pulling you closer to him.

"baby, i'm sorry. i..." then he takes a deep breath, giving him a moment to secure his words. "i'm sorry, i love you. i'm so sorry."

even in your native language, his words touch your heart as you're quick to pull him towards you, and his large arms wrapping around comfortingly you just like his words do.

lee seokmin

"you're driving me crazy right now!"

his words are loud that you feel it riddling in your bones, drying up whatever you wanted to say. the regret is quick to hit him, so fast that you can't make out the unintelligible spill of apologies leaving his mouth. the tears well up in his eyes at your quietness, knowing he had pushed a nerve, and his hands unsteadily make his way into yours.

"i'm so sorry, sunshine. please forgive me, i..." he pauses, blinking back his tears. "i'm sorry, i'm so sorry for all of this. please don't cry... i never want to hurt you."

you hate seeing him cry; you hate fighting with him too, but his words are enough to give him a faint smile of forgiveness. you know that he's sorry, and hearing it in your native language makes it more endearing.

boo seungkwan

"you're being so unreasonable!"

his voice had taken a rough edge at the heat of the argument, the frustration evident in his words. but when he catches sight of the pain to your face, he feels his heart drop to the floor, realising the gravity of what he said, and he couldn't believe he'd let his frustration get the best of him. feels his thoughts begin to soar, trying to put together an apology right away, just anything.

"Y/N, i... i'm sorry, i'm so sorry," he lets out quietly, cautiously, in your native language, voice pleading. "can you... no, nevermind, i'm sorry. i really am."

he's looking deep into your eyes now, trying to decipher through your face, and he can see the instant, slight change when you hear his words.

vernon chwe

"i can't put up with you right now."

it feels cold, his words sending a shiver running up and down your spine like a madman. it's enough to make you freeze in place, making your thoughts think the worst things, yet also enough for him to notice the weight of what he just said. he calls out your name quietly, momentarily snapping you back to reality, having the urge to grab your hand but hesitant to do so.

"Y/N?" he calls out again, and when your glassy eyes meet him, his he feels something drop inside of him. "Y/N, baby, i..." he brings himself closer to you, locking one of his hand through yours and the other to your side. "i'm... i'm sorry, i shouldn't have said that, baby, i'm sorry."

you didn't expect the switch to your native tongue, and you can tell by his gaze how serious he is. but it holds the regret that he feels and the sincerity in his words.

lee chan

"just leave! if that's what you want, just leave!"

his words had been sharp and filled with frustration. you feel like the ground beneath you is crumbling, and it's as if the world is crashing down around you. but almost instantly, his face registers the pain in your eyes, and he realises how hurtful his words were. he steps closer to you, his eyes wide with regret, and he reaches out to take your hand.

"i-i didn't mean that, i'm sorry," he says softly, apologising in your native tongue like it was natural, voice quivering. "i'm so sorry. i didn't mean any of it."

hearing him apologise in your native tongue reassures you that he truly regrets his words, and you slowly nod, though tears still in your eyes, but a glimmer of forgiveness in your heart.

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @ylliris-hanniehae @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair

[linghxr]

Advice I would give my past self about studying Chinese

Recently I've been reflecting on my Chinese learning journey and how far I've come. If I could go back in time, these are 10 things I would tell my past self. A few are specific to Chinese, but most can apply to any language

It will get so much easier to learn new characters. I remember feeling overwhelmed because learning new characters was a painful process. Now when I encounter a new character, I can remember it with relative ease—it’s just a new combination of familiar components.

Don't feel bad about having uneven development in different skills. My listening and reading are significantly stronger than my speaking and writing. It’s super common and nothing to be ashamed of.

The best way to get over being too embarrassed to speak is to experience some embarrassment and realize it’s not a big deal. I used to be so afraid of making mistakes that I would avoid speaking in class. It was only by being forced to speak that I got over it. I'm much better for it!

It’s impossible to learn everything, and time is limited. You have to prioritize. You probably don’t need to know how to say “pawnshop” in Chinese, and trying to jam your head full of 100 words you saw once won’t work. They won’t stick.

It will actually be harder to read pinyin than to read characters at some point. When I helped a friend with a script for her Chinese class, I really struggled because she had written it entirely in pinyin. I had to write out the characters to read without stumbling! I know characters are daunting for beginners, but trust me, you will get used to them.

If you haven’t practiced or learned something, of course you won’t be good at it. I remember feeling so frustrated trying to navigate Chinese websites for the first time. In retrospect, obviously, I was going to struggle with something completely new to me!

If something isn’t sticking, move on. Why waste time on a word that’s not clicking when you could be learning five new ones? It will only result in unnecessary frustration. So unless you need to know it for your class or a proficiency test, drop it and move on.

Don’t beat yourself up when you have trouble understanding music, literature, different accents, etc. These can be challenging even in your native language. Of course you’re going to struggle more in a new language.

It's worth it to pay attention to things like stroke order and tones from the start so you don't form bad habits. Don’t stress about get it perfect, but it’s easier to do it right the first time than to have to correct your bad habits in the future.

Instead of feeling overwhelmed by all that you don’t know, learn how to express yourself with what you do know. It’s truly its own skill that requires practice. After all, in life you can’t always stop and pull out a dictionary.

I started learning Chinese a really long time ago, but I became more serious about it in 2018, so 5 1/2 years ago. I'm very proud of how far I've come, but I still have a long way to go! I look forward to revisiting this post in another couple of years 😊

[fatuismooches]

Your fluff writing is soo good! Thank you so much for making this blog.

Can I request headcanons for Dotorre, Pantalone, and Capitano with a reader who's not used to the cold? I just moved from my extremely warm country to a really cold place, and am sniffling, shivering, and miserable 🥲🥲 If only there's someone to cover me in a boyfriend jacket and hold hands with something to keep me warm 😔😔

Dottore once went through the same thing, moving from Sumeru to Snezhnaya definitely affected him in the beginning. His younger self grumbled throughout his experiments as he was bogged down with the heavy winter coat (that Pierro so generously provided) while the native Snezhnayans felt pity for him, but dared not to look at him with that feeling. It was really a hindrance in the beginning, not even gloves could keep his fingers from stiffening. A big disappointment since he needed steady hands. However, a couple of centuries and body modifications later, make it so the cold is nothing special to him or his segments. It really doesn’t affect them much anymore.

So for once, Dottore can actually understand what you’re feeling. And even more surprisingly he can handle the situation in a relatively normal way! You look kind of ridiculous with the amount of layers he's made you wear, but he insists that this method will work. You'll build up resistance eventually! But you're probably not satisfied with this turn of events (you wanted cuddles, didn't you?) so just head on over to his segments. As long as they're not busy, feel free to take their artificially heated-up hands and move them around your body. It will feel very nice. Lucky you, who needs expensive heaters when you have the segments! But honestly, no matter how cold you are, don't give too much attention to them and neglect the original Dottore! Would he turn off the lab's heating and assign tasks to the segments to make you crawl back to him begging for warmth? Well, that's up to you.

Pantalone will not hear of your shivering and sniffling, no, not on his watch. What did you expect, that he'd let his beloved suffer like this when he has all the remedies at his fingertips? There's not much to say really. Thick, cozy blankets. A delicious hot beverage of your choice and hearty soup by the fireplace. Only the finest heaters in Teyvat. Warm, comfortable clothing. A seat on his lap if you prefer rather than the bed. The amount of things he does for you may have you feeling a little too hot, not just from the number of heat sources but his willingness to do all these things for you. (But please don't overheat.) He won't stop until your hands stop being two blocks of ice. And yes, you can steal his coat if you so desire. He has a lot more, don't worry about it. Hell, steal two or three if you like... one to wear, one to place over you, and one to... hold? Doesn't matter, Pantalone encourages it. And although he doesn't like seeing you cold, of course, he thinks you're just far too cute when you give him the puppy eyes for much-needed warmth and attention.

A part of it also stems from how many days and nights he spent cold and alone as a child, with nothing and no one to keep him warm. Often becoming sick from the conditions. So he knows exactly how it feels to be trembling and miserable. Which is why he will never let you suffer similarly, Pantalone cares for you far too much for you to ever endure anything related to that. He will make sure to keep your hands warm, as long as you keep his heart warm too.

Capitano feels quite glum, even though you can't exactly see that from his expression, you manage to read his general body language quite well, not to mention the stare you get when you sniffle for even a second. He himself doesn't feel the cold much either, being the very strong man he is. But Capitano wants to help you, he really does - he has led troops through all kinds of weather, including the biting cold - so he is aware of methods used to retain as much warmth as possible. So yes, he will make sure your closet has much warm clothing, although he has to awkwardly clear his throat when asking for your sizes. He will get confused as to why you steal his massively oversized clothing instead. He will make sure that soup is nutritious enough to keep your strength up (even though you're not a soldier...) Of course, the bed will be your cozy warm haven, the blankets are very nice and big considering how tall Capitano is.

Considering how Capitano isn't all that versed in things like this or taking care of people, you would thank him for all he's done for you. Except that he's forgotten one thing, you'd tease. Externally he looks the same as always. Internally he wonders if he's messed up and if he's upset you. Was he wrong to apply the logic of being a captain to his relationship with you? No, it's merely the fact that he has yet to cuddle you. Oh. That's all? But wouldn't all these blankets and sheets be better at warming you, your husband questions? Nope, you'd shush him before making yourself right at home and his lap. You are very strange, Capitano thinks.

Also just imagine them with their Harbinger coats, and you're inside of it! Stealing the warmth! Your head popping out as they give you kisses! <3

[ohwaitimthewriter]

The Memory Keeper

Chapter 1 : List.

Pairing : Noa x human reader

Warning : A bit of mourning. Otherwise, all clear for this one!

Summarize (please I'm so bad at writing these!): A woman, allowed to live as long as the virus keeps running through her body, living on autopilot for 260 years, is going to see her life takes a new turn, finding hope in something that might come to put an end to her wandering.

Words : 3.2k

A/N : It has been a long time since I've written something and it feels pretty good to get back at it with this story! I hope you'll like it and do not hesitate to share your thoughts or like/reblog, it's always appreciated! As English isn't my native language, I'm sorry if you find mistakes or weird wording in there, let me know if you find some and I'll be glad to correct them!

Enjoy your reading 😊

The Memory Keeper masterlist.

It wasn't going to be a difficult day. The list was ready, the tasks the same as the day before and the day after. You had to go to the river: catch a fish, fill the flasks with fresh water, bathe… You had to get on your horse and on the way back, stop at the 16th tree on the right, get off, walk 30 steps and fill the bag with blackberries. You had to avoid the brambles and avoid tripping over the prominent root. Get back on the horse and ride home.

Prepare the fish: remove the head and tail, the skin, gut it and remove the bones, light a fire to cook it. Yes, evolution had done many things, but it must have missed the episode where it was necessary to improve the human digestive system. So the fish still had to be cooked.

The garden had to be tended. Over the years, it had evolved too. It had been a long time in the making. A vegetable garden, tomatoes, green beans and, you couldn't quite remember how, artichokes had found their place too. An apple tree was easy to grow. It took time, but it was easy. And then there was this little gem you'd stumbled upon one day: a rosebush. It was an important one. You had to take care of it too.

You always had to do something.

Your hands knew what to do and how to do it. Your legs took you where you needed to go, and at that particular moment, they had led you to your horse. You had to remove his saddle and bridle, check his hooves and remove any stones that might have got stuck on them. Run your hand over his belly to loosen the skin compressed by the girth. And don't forget to give him a drink. When it came to eating, he found everything on his own, except perhaps an apple, which you gave him from time to time to thank him for his help. He knew how to ask, too. In fact, he huffed and gave you a nudge.

Okay, an apple.

He followed you to the apple tree and you climbed onto his back. You could reach the branches, but it was always difficult to keep your balance. Especially when your right hip wasn't working properly. And you sighed. It really wasn't convenient.

You had to go on with the list, what was next?

“ Hearing my voice at least once and speaking so I don't forget.”

This was important. You had to remember how to speak. The world had forgotten, but you must not. You had no right to forget.

“Say something new.”

And you looked around.

“It's cloudy today.”

Which meant rain wasn't far off. Your horse was now grazing beside you.

“You should take shelter.”

You smile, you'd said one more sentence today. Your horse's ears twitched as if to say “I do what I want” and you shrugged. After all, he was the one to decide. But you didn't want to get wet in the rain. You patted his neck and went off to find shelter in your wooden hut.

You've lived here for a long time. A very long time. So long that you no longer needed a torch to light up the big room when night fell or when the clouds darkened the place. You knew exactly where the shaky table was, the armchair with its deformed, hollowed-out seat and even the little plastic pot you kept forgetting to put back on the table to avoid getting your feet caught in it. And despite the years, you never tripped over it.

You were right to come home. You'd just had time to put the water flasks and the cooked fish on the table when a torrent of water hit the floor. The end of the list would have to wait. The timing was perfect, as your stomach signaled that it was time to fill up, and the smell of the wood-fired fish made your mouth water.

Settling back in your armchair, you ate the fish, watching the rain fall against the hut's only window. Eating with your hands was no longer as disturbing as it had been at first. There were a lot of memories that had slipped away over time, but you almost smiled when you thought back to the embarrassment you'd felt the first time you'd had to eat like that. If you'd known back then where you'd end up…

A sigh.

Drops tumbled against the window and some seemed to challenge themselves to get to the bottom first. They were following the path traced by others before them, but obviously not all roads were good ones to take. Some raindrops went straight down, others tried to cut off their opponents' path, and still others weaved in and out to create their own path. Then a raindrop caught your eye. It seemed the most likely to win the mad race. It glided and slalomed proudly until it landed delicately on your windowsill, blending in with its sisters who had landed there before it.

You turned your eyes to the last piece of fish, which you brought to your mouth.

You took one last look out the window, and that's when you caught sight of it.

A shadow.

A shadow had just moved past your window. The rain kept on pounding against it and you could see the trees in the distance stirring in the wind, and you were sure you saw the shadow moving, quickly to the right, but the shadow was gone. There were only raindrops, only the wind, and you could even hear the dull roar of an incipient thunderstorm.

A deep breath. You had to.

Then a sigh.

The rain and wind must have played a trick on you. If the storm picked up, you definitely wouldn't be able to finish your outdoor to-do list. But that didn't matter, there was still plenty to do inside.

First you had to tidy up. Keeping the interior clean and tidy was important, so you couldn't leave the water bottles on the table. You grabbed them and stepped over the little plastic pot that stood between the table and what you could call a kitchen. At least, that's what you would have called this part of the hut back in the day, because there was only a broken sink and a cupboard without a door. You passed the front door and it rattled against the latch in the wind. You had managed to install a branch across the door, allowing you to keep it closed in bad weather. However, as it didn't close very well, the wind always managed to rattle it between the branch and the latch. But you got used to the noise. So you walked past the shaky door to put the water bottles in the cupboard, and when you heard a suspicious rustling sound, you jumped, staring at the door.

You frowned at the unusual sound. You had been holding your breath, but the wind suddenly whistled through the doorframe, which was sorely lacking in hermetic seals. So you breathed out, taking a calmer breath. The wind. Mother Nature was definitely testing your nerves tonight.

Well, you still had to change your clothes. Night was coming on and you couldn't possibly sleep in your day clothes. You stepped over the little plastic pot again and made your way to the wooden chest beside the fireplace to find a t-shirt and a pair of jogging shorts with a hole in the left knee. Maybe one day you'd find a stray piece of fabric while walking through the forest, so you could mend it. But you hadn't yet got to the list asking you to explore the surrounding area.

There were 7 lists divided into 4 sections, themselves arranged in 12 categories. It was your way of keeping track of time. You no longer counted the days, let alone the years; you'd long since lost the very notion of time. But to grow crops, harvest the fruits of the forest and simply follow nature's millimetric events and be able to anticipate them, you needed a reference point. The lists, though mostly identical, were that reference point. Hanging on the wall with pieces of wood you'd carved yourself, they determined your days and the things you had to do.

You didn't really know when or how you'd started making these lists. But judging by the ink, half washed away by the years - some of the lists had even gone back to being blank - it must have been a long time ago.

You put the current day's list back in its place. Tomorrow, you'd have to complete it while carrying out the next one. But there was one more thing you needed to do indoors before settling into your armchair for the night. One last important thing.

From the chest, you took out a picture frame. The corners were worn, the wood had crumbled and you had to handle it carefully to avoid getting splinters in your hands. You set the frame down on the floor by the fireplace, knelt in front of it and reached into the jar on your right to pick a rose petal, which you placed carefully in the right-hand corner of the frame.

You struggled to swallow.

That's where it always got complicated.

Once again, you reached into the jar and pulled out 7 petals. You always needed 7 petals. You placed 6 of them in a circle on the dry twigs in the fireplace and began humming a song whose words you'd long since forgotten. But you remembered the feeling. You felt a lump in your throat, and you often wondered how you managed to keep the song going.

You hummed, and on the last petal, with the help of a needle, you delicately traced his initials. You had to be careful not to press too hard, you shouldn't pierce the petal, just brush against it enough to see, if you concentrated hard enough, the outline of the letter you were drawing. You also had to blink a few times to see clearly what you were doing. It was important to get it right. Once you'd written the letter on the petal, you laid it at the center of the circle.

It was always at this moment that your hands shook. You needed a moment. Just a bit of time.

You had to wipe your hands over your eyes, the most important thing was to handle the two flints on the floor with care. Your hands had to be steady, not shaking. You interrupted the song to get your breathing under control.

Inhale.

Breathe out.

Grab the flints.

Inhale.

Exhale.

A sharp stroke.

The clatter of the stone threw sparks onto the pile of twigs and a flame sprang up. You started humming again as the fire slowly consumed the wood until it reached the petals of the circle.

A tear.

The fire continued to progress and you stared desperately at the petal in the center, quickly ridding yourself of the tears that were blurring your vision. The flame touched the edge of the petal and you watched the letter “C” burn away and disappear into the ashes.

The flame faded as the twigs gradually disappeared and, once gone, you slipped the petal on the frame back into its jar.

Now you had to put the frame away. Your fingers brushed the edge of the picture inside of it. Despite the years, you had managed, by some miracle, to keep the photograph almost undamaged. At least, sufficiently intact that you could still distinguish the shape of an ape in the center of the picture, despite the cracks.

He was a force of nature. You had taken this photo on a December day, you still knew because you could still discern the white flakes clinging to his dark fur. Back then, you loved taking pictures.

What did they call you again?

The memory keeper.

Even after all this time, it still made you smile. You gently squeezed the frame between your fingers, keeping it balanced on the knees you'd just tucked in towards you. This way, he was a little closer to you.

You made an extra effort to remember the day. He was standing high enough to see everyone around him. He must have been talking about something important; he always had that powerful, soul-piercing stare when he was saying something important. But he always looked…

“Grumpy.”

You concluded your thought in a whisper that knotted your throat. Grumpy. You almost expected to hear him growl, his ego bruised, every time you reminded him that he was sometimes a little too grumpy. “Grumpy because a lot on my shoulders,” he'd snap back at you. “No, grumpy because you're old” you'd always reply, your eyes always playful. And you were the only one who could say such a thing, with the only result being an amused snore coming from him.

And you felt yourself take a deep breath. Of all the pictures you'd taken, this was the last one you had left. You had to put the frame back in the chest, so your fingers tightened even more around the wood. Your head tilted slightly forward, closing your eyes as the wood touched your forehead.

Tonight was difficult.

You took another deep breath, and before the knot in your throat hurt too much, you straightened up and went to put the frame in the chest.

“Caesar, tonight is really difficult,” you whispered, watching the shadow of the lid close over the frame.

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

It had been a restless night. When your eyes opened the next morning, they felt heavy and swollen, and you found yourself rubbing your eyes to try and make the heaviness go away.

Today, there was much to do. After changing from your night clothes to your day ones, you removed the branch blocking the door and let the sun shine in, warming your skin. The fresh early-morning air caressed your skin and you took a few seconds to smell the distinctive light scent that follows a thunderstorm.

No sooner had you taken a few steps forward than your feet bumped into something hard, causing you to lose your balance. In a fraction of a second, you found yourself on your butt on the ground, a stabbing pain in your right hip that had failed to move to stop you from falling.

“Ouch!” was the only thing that slipped out of your mouth.

You straightened up slightly, remaining seated in the grass, to see what had caused your fall and a pile of apples laid exactly under the wobbly small porch that covered your front door.

God, what a dummy not to have put that away last night. You thought to yourself, looking down at your hands full of dirt. You'd have to go to the river to clean it up, and now you'd just have to take your night clothes with you because you'd also have to wash the ones you were wearing-the mud from the storm must have dirtied your current clothes.

A pile of apples. You thought as you rubbed your hands together.

A pile of apples. You glanced at your right hip. Pfft, if you'd made Caesar break it to put it back in its place, you'd never have fallen today. In fact, you'd have avoided more than one fall.

All because of a misplaced pile of apples.

A pile of misplaced apples.

And like a light bulb switching on, your gaze suddenly fell on those apples that actually had nothing to do there. You hadn't gathered them the day before.

Then you heard it. A muffled purr came gently from behind you. Surely you should have turned around, stood up and dealt with it, but you'd found yourself rooted to the spot, eyes glued to those apples, waiting as an orangutan appeared in your field of vision.

And you refused to look at him, your hands balled into fists to keep them from shaking. You weren't afraid. No. But for some obscure reason, your brain had simply decided to freeze.

The orangutan once again let out a rumble, softer this time, and held out his hand to you.

“I'll help.”

His voice made you blink several times. You did your best to snap out of your stupor, but this time your eyes agreed to look at him, and the orangutan seemed delighted.

Just one more moment. It took another second, just one, to see your hand slip into his and before you knew it, you were back on your feet.

“Raka, we must go.”

The second voice surprised you a little. It sounded familiar and your eyes fell on a chimpanzee, a little further away, who had just finished saddling a horse. You frowned, your horse? You were trying to determine whether it was really yours, but the distance didn't allow you to be sure. There was only one way to find out.

So you whistled.

The horse shook its head and the chimpanzee didn't have time to grab the reins before your horse galloped off to meet you. They were going to take your horse… in exchange for a stack of apples?

You grabbed the reins and stroked the horse's neck as he snorted. He chewed the bit and blew heavily through his nostrils.

For a fraction of a second, you forgot about the two large apes who, from the sounds they were making, weren't particularly happy to have lost a chance of obtaining a second means of locomotion: in your peripheral vision, you could see another horse quietly grazing.

Your hands still knew what to do, and it didn't take you long to remove the bridle and bit from your horse's mouth.

“He doesn't like it.” you said simply.

And only silence answered you, so you showed the bridle to the two apes.

“The bit, he doesn't like it, he's not used to it.”

Your answer didn't seem to convince them. They stared at you, dumbstruck, and if you paid close enough attention, you could almost see their mouths hanging wide open. And that left you bewildered. What didn't they understand? You'd heard them talking, so that certainly wasn't the problem.

“You can't take my horse.” You went on, starting to remove the saddle.

It was becoming increasingly obvious that they were staring at you as if you'd just landed from the sky.

“If you want a horse, there's a wild herd to the south, past the river.” And you pointed in the right direction.

They remained silent as tombs, but the chimpanzee followed the direction you pointed with his eyes.

“Just be careful, the group's stallion isn't very friendly.” You thought it important to tell him.

Your gaze fell back on them and the orangutan, Raka, if you'd heard correctly, hadn't moved a muscle. The chimpanzee, on the other hand, was staring at you thoughtfully, as if he was trying to put together a puzzle with a missing piece. He then moved towards you inquisitively, perhaps, confused?

“Echo, speak?”

It was certainly the most surprising sentence you'd ever heard in your life.

[fanwarriorfictions]

Not Again- Part Four

Summary: With the discovery of a special book, Y/n is one step closer to home. The inner court learns even more about her family back home. And Azriel needs a babysitter of his own

Series Masterlist

-Part Four-

Amren found them in the kitchen, food had been waiting for them on the counter before they’d even arrived, the house it seemed was sick of her not eating as well. She’d simply laughed at the nagging presence and started filling her plate. Azriel had entered moments later, a small scowl on his lips from being left in her dust. He’d huffed and quietly filled his plate, he wasn’t kidding when he said flying worked up his appetite.

“I have use of your stray, boy. Go find somewhere else to be.”

Azriel gives the small female an unimpressed look, “nice to see you too, Amren.”

Y/n pushes her half eaten plate away, waving off the wisps of shadows that angrily dance around her at the action, “Did you find something?”

“I had that insufferable songbird pull any books she could find with your Wyrd marks,” Amren says, snapping her fingers.

A pile of books fall onto the counter, old withered pages that look like they hadn’t been opened in many many years. A plume of dust flies off them and Y/n wisks it away with a small breeze.

“Can you read them?” Azriel asks, eyeing the pages one book that’d fallen open.

“I thought I told you to find somewhere else to be?” Amren snaps, though there’s no threat behind it.

“My babysitter here is vigilant in his task,” Y/n sighs ignoring the withering look Azriel gives her, she takes one of the books into her hands and flips through some of the pages, “My mother taught me what she knew of the marks. Protection, locking, unlocking, many things like that, but we never covered gates, it simply wasn’t possible, and she didn’t want me testing fate.”

“Well to bad, it would’ve been useful to know that now,” Amren sighs, picking a book out of the stack, shoving it towards her, “Gwyn said this one practically jumped off the shelf at her.”

Y/n eyes the title and almost drops the book in shock. Azriel takes a casual step closer to peer over her shoulder at the book, a shadow finds her arm and gently wraps around it, a comforting touch.

“You know it?” Amren asks, giving that wisp of shadow a curious look, “I couldn’t read it, what is it called?”

“The Walking Dead,” Y/n answers breathlessly, “in my native language.”

Azriel couldn’t read the book, but he still looks over her shoulder periodically as she flips through each page. She’d been at it for hours, taking notes on the scraps of paper littered over the dining room table. Amren had taken the remaining books to look over, most had been fae scholars from this world musing over the marks, nothing quite as useful as the book in Y/n’s hands it would seem. Amren would also look over the Book of Breathings, see if anything jumped out at her.

Y/n had barely spoken to him the whole time, quietly mumbling to herself once in a while as she wrote. Azriel noticed that her notes switched between his language and her own in sporadic patterns, sentences switching back and forth, one word in one language then the next in the other. Swirling letters that connected in long strokes of her pen. The words were close together, she hardly lifted the pen as she finished one to write the next, like her brain was moving faster than her hand could keep up.

She was so focused that she didn’t notice Azriel slip out the door, didn’t notice when Rhys had appeared and waved him towards the hall.

“How’s research going?” The High Lord asks, “Amren has yet to find anything useful.”

Azriel turns an eye through the door, at the female still engrossed in that book, “nothing yet, though it seems Y/n may put Amren to shame in relentless focus. I don’t think she’s looked away from that book for more than the few seconds it takes to write something down.”

“I’ll be sure to tell Amren she has the competition,” Rhys chuckles, “I hear you two went for a flight today. All over Velaris people are talking about the almighty Shadowsinger chasing after a bird all afternoon.”

He gives Azriel a shit eating grin and Az scowls back at him, “she was determined to leave her babysitter in the dust.”

His scowl deepens when Rhys just laughs, “what? Don’t like chasing after pretty females?”

“I’m sure his ego is just bruised cause he can’t keep up,” Y/n’s voice calls out from the room behind them, “Big strong males tend to dislike being shown up by us pretty females.”

Azriel glares over his shoulder at the female who hadn’t even looked up from her notes, “I can keep up just fine.”

“Sure you can,” she laughs, turning a page, “I won’t hold back next time if that’s what you wish.”

His shadows laugh in his ears and he turns his glare on them. Rhys next to him grins as he walks into the room, eyes taking in the mess of papers full of Y/n’s half put together thoughts. She finally looks up then, acknowledging the male with a small nod of her head.

Her eyes are tinged red, like she hadn’t even blinked in the time she’d been sitting there. She glances at him, grinning at the scowl still on his lips. He glares harder, shoving his shadows down as they continue to laugh at him.

Rhys looks between them, “found anything useful?”

It breaks their stare and her smile falls. Azriel gets the strangest sense that he wants it back.

“Yes and no,” she sighs, “I recognize a lot of it, this was the book my mother learned a lot of what she knows of the Wyrd marks. She used it to open a gate to the place souls rest once to talk to… a friend. I’m sure it’s in here somewhere, I just need to keep looking.”

He notes the pause, the shift of her tone, whoever Aelin had tired to talk to, it was a sore subject. Take a break, she’s sad again, sad, she needs to rest, working for hours, hours, break. Azriel is half tempted to hiss at the nosey little shadows. They’d been at it for the last hour, as soon as the sun started to dip below the horizon, it’s like they switched into nanny mode. He wasn’t sure why they were so concerned anyway, she was more than capable of taking care of her damn self.

“The gates are the tricky ones,” she continues, grabbing pages of notes, “I’m close to figuring it out, I could probably open a gate, but to get to the right place is the hard part is opening one to the right place. I could just as easily walk right into a hell realm as I could into my own. And as fun as that seems, I’d rather not test my luck.”

“How many realms are out there?” Azriel asks.

“Who knows,” she shrugs, “my mother remembers falling through many, she couldn’t even describe most of them because of how fast she was falling. Give me a day and I think I could figure this out-“

“You’ve been at it for hours,” Rhys cuts in, “surely you could take a break. Maybe join us for dinner? We’ve all stewed up more questions for you, Cassian has a list.”

Yes, yes, yes, dinner, she didn’t eat enough, yes. Mother above, he wished he could get the shadows to shut up.

Y/n hesitantly glances at the papers surrounding her on the dining room table, “I seem to have commandeered the space. I’d hate for it to get stained.”

Azriel could tell that what she really wanted to say was, I need to keep working so I can get home. It was written in the longing glances at the book, in the way she flew towards the horizon like home was on the other side, the way she looked at the sky expectantly, searching for something he couldn’t quite figure out.

“We’ll eat at my home,” Rhys shrugs, “your research will be here, exactly where you left it when you return.”

She looks ready to argue, to deny, to beg to stay, but instead she sighs, “Is dinner a casual affair, or does your lot like to preen?”

Rhys laughs, “It’s whatever you like, preen as much as you wish.”

She hums, “My babysitter and I will be there shortly then.”

Mother, give him strength. She pushes to her feet, giving him that saccharine smile as she walks past him towards her room. Her scent lingers as she leaves, that hint of embers stronger than usual. He can’t help the subtle intake of air, nor the shadow that grazes her wrist like it would wrap around and make her stay.

She’s barely out the door before Rhys is clapping him on the shoulder with a quiet chuckle, “do you need a babysitter? I’m sure Cassian would like to return the favor.”

Azriel snarls at him, “We’ll see you at the house brother.”

Rhys just laughs again, throwing a wink over his shoulder as he moves towards the door, “take your time. I wouldn’t blame you for being a little late.”

“Get out.”

Azriel waits for her in the living room, she’d still been in her room when he’d gotten dressed, which wasn’t surprising since it only took him a few minutes to change into a slightly nicer shirt, he didn’t bother with the preening, Rhys did that enough for all of them.

Heel clicks on the floor alert him to her approach, she turns the corner into the room and Azriel couldn’t stop the way his body goes absolutely still.

He thought night court black suited her but he was wrong, she looked good in it but it didn’t compare to the way she looked in this dress. Deep green of a forest, the silk fabric flows with her body like water, showcasing each of those curves like currents, with accents of silver thread and shining jewels that glow in the light like the stars above. She’d lined her eyes with kohl, giving them that sultry look that could drive a male wild. And her lips, Mother help him, her lips were painted a deep wine red, so dark it could’ve been black.

Gorgeous, she was absolutely gorgeous. He’d known she was pretty, he wasn’t blind, he’d noticed when he’d found her laying in the moonlight, even covered in blood she was beautiful, but it didn’t strike him till now exactly how attractive she was.

“You like what you see shadowsinger?” Her grin is feline and lethal, voice dripping with honey, “I told you I was your type.”

He doesn’t respond, simply continues to look her over. There’s a fire in her eyes that has his shadows whirling around him and when her head angles in that predator way, he’s almost willing to be the prey.

House wasn’t a good discriptor of the giant building that sits before her. Manor maybe, but Azriel had called it the River House. Rhys and Feyre’s personal residence that Feyre had apparently designed herself. The garden in the back had been where she’d fallen into this world, she’d been to frantic to really appreciate her surroundings. It was absolutely beautiful.

Azriel led her through the front door and the interior was just as magnificent as the outside, intricate and elegant, yet it still felt warm and lived in. A multitude of paintings lined the walls as they walked to the dining room. From their conversation earlier, she assumed they were done by Feyre herself. The High Lady had mentioned her art studio, she had a class this afternoon that she would be teaching. Y/n had leaned towards musical arts, but she always loved going to galleries with her aunt Lysandra. According to Rhys, there was a section of Velaris called the rainbow, the artist quarter of the city. She assumed she’d flown through it today with Azriel, the place had been alive, filled with music that she couldn’t help but be drawn to.

As they moved down the hall she could hear the sounds of the Inner Court, as they called themselves, growing closer and closer. Their laughter reminded her of home, of dinners with the cadre and her uncles visiting from Adarlan, or even Nesryn and Sartaq all the way from the southern continent. They were never quiet affairs, always full of laughter and teasing, usually from Fenrys and Dorian on the later.

The last dinner like that had been little over a month ago. She’d dressed up in a gown this exact color. Her aunt Elide had helped her do her makeup, she’d practically had to hold her down in her chair so she could finish, to excited to sit still. It was her favorite nights of the year, these dinners, seeing her family come together all in one place. Sometimes they’d even convince Manon to join them, never aunt Manon, though she’d gotten away with that once when she was a child. It was always magical seeing her and Dorian dance around each other as if they weren’t desperate for the other.

She would sit there and watch her family, watch the way everyone loved each other. How her parents would stare into each others eyes and grin like someone had told a joke. How her uncle Aedion would dance with her aunt Lysandra to music only the two of them could hear. How uncle Chaol and aunt Yrene would bicker together with smiles still on their lips, to the utter annoyance of her cousin, Josefin. She watched them all, and hoped one day she would have someone who would love her just as fiercely

“Where’d you go, princess?”

Her mind drifts back from that far away place across the stars, finding Azriel’s gaze on her. Stoic as always, but she could see the bit of concern behind those whiskey eyes. It warms something in her, just barely, just enough for her to give him a small but genuine smile.

“Home,” she says quietly, “I was home.”

“So you’re telling me, a demi fae is one of your strongest warriors,” Cassian says, throwing quotes around the words, “and the guys power is death, just pure death? And he’s how tall exactly?”

Y/n laughs, “My uncle Lorcan has described it to me as death, I’m not sure what that means exactly, it was a gift from the old God of Death, Hellas. It looks like Azriel’s shadows, though they’re not sentient little creatures more like whips of shadow that he controls. I don’t know how tall he is exactly but he’s taller then you, he’s taller than all three of you males, actually. You should see the height difference between him and Elide.”

Azriel couldn’t help the small grin on his lips as his brother continues to pester Y/n over the apparently giant uncle of hers. It’d started with him asking about her father, and then the rest of his cadre. She’d told them all about the mighty warriors. Fenrys, who she could only describe as very very pretty, he could shift into a giant white wolf, and winnow, though not quite as much as those here could. Lorcan, the giant shadow wielder, who’s name is apparently Lord Lorcan Lochan, to everyone’s utter amusement. And a mysterious figure named Vaughan, who she admits wasn’t around a lot when she grew up, usually away in Wendlyn, he could shift into a massive osprey.

“There’s no way, he’d have to be like seven feet tall,” Cassian argues, mouth opening to ask yet another question.

Nesta elbows him in the side, “I want to hear more about the shapeshifter.”

“Lysandra,” Y/n supplies the name with a warm smile, “Her favorite form is a snow leopard, lethal creatures, but the softest fur you’d ever felt in your life. When I was a child she’d let me cuddle up next to her by the fire to take naps.”

“You’d mentioned a sea battle earlier,” Mor chimes in, “what was the creature she shifted into.”

Y/n’s eyes light up, “One of my favorite stories, I would beg to hear it again and again. It’s called a sea dragon, the companions of the Mycenians of old Terrasen. When they were banished from their home centuries ago the sea dragons all died out and it became legend that once the dragons returned, so would the Mycenians.”

Azriel watches her, enraptured by her stories. It had been like that the whole night. She’d been stolen away by Feyre as soon as they’d arrived, more and more questions being thrown at her throughout dinner. He’d taken a seat across from her next to Cassian, who had by far asked her the most. But she met each one with a story, that look in her eye from out in the hall hidden but not gone. She’d seemed lost, far far away, and so sad. He’d almost turned around and brought them back to the house of wind just so she could keep looking for a way home, just to erase that look. But when she’d smiled at him, all he could do was stare.

“During the war my mother had traveled to Skulls bay.” She talked with her hands, Azriel noticed. “One of the missing Mycenians was there, she’d figured it out a long time before that when she was still an assassin, when she’d wrecked the whole port to free hundreds of slaves. Captain Rolfe, the pirate lord, was not happy to learn the assassin who’d ruined his island was actually the long lost Queen of Terrasen. He refused to send aid, so my mother did what she does best, she schemed. Her and my aunt devised the plan to bring the sea dragon back. The battle didn’t go quite as planned, the valg had sea wyverns, vicious and powerful. But that sea dragon form, huge and magnificent was stronger, smarter. She used them against the valg forces, sending those beasts straight into the hulls of their own ships. My mother tells me that she could barely keep up with Lysandra’s speed, if you blinked she was gone. It was close, she was badly wounded, but she won.”

“Wow,” Elain breathes, eyes sparkling, “That’s amazing.”

“My uncle Aedion tells it better,” Y/n shrugs, smiling at the memory, “He always told me that it was then that he decided he could not live without her. When he saw her bleeding on that beach still in that huge form, half wild from the fight, he wasn’t afraid of her even though she looked ready to bite his head off.”

Cassian laughs, hooking an arm over the back of Nesta’s chair, “I know the feeling.”

Nesta looked half tempted to bite him right then to prove his point. Cassian simply grins at his mate, that telltale look in his eyes that would usually have the pair leaving early at any moment.

Azriel rolls his eyes at the pair, looking towards the female across from him. To find Y/n already looking right back. She’s got that overly sweet smile on her painted lips that she knows gets under his skin. He gets the sense that she enjoys it, the way he glares at her, it’s like a game. See how much she could push before he finally pushed back.

Rhys leans forward, that knowing grin on his lips again, “How fast can you fly in that hawk form? You said you went easy on poor Az earlier.”

She laughs and somehow he doesn’t care that it’s at his expense, “Very very fast, I can shift the air under my wings to go even faster. I could make it to the house of wind in less than a minute if I wished.”

“Impressive,” Azriel says, rolling his eyes.

“Oh don’t be a sore loser, Az,” she taunts.

It’s the first time she’s called him that, he quite enjoys the sounds of it, “Is it really losing if your competitions got a boost?”

“Only using what’s in my arsenal,” she shrugs nonchalantly, taking a sip of her wine.

Azriel’s eyes zero in on the motion, appreciating the way her lips rest on the edge of the glass. He was right, that color stained.

Careful brother, Rhys whispers in his mind, Or I really will send Cassian to babysit you.

He glares at the high lord, I do not need a sitter.

That’s what Cassian said, Rhys shrugs, Now look at him.

And it’s like a timer goes off on his patience, Cassian stands from his chair, taking his mate’s hand in his own.

“Well I think it’s time for us to go,” Cassian declares, he’d lasted longer than Azriel thought he would.

Nesta turns her eye on Y/n, “We train at the house of wind every morning, 8 am sharp, be there.”

Y/n grins, baring those sharp canines, and Azriel has the good sense to be wary of letting those two near each other in a sparring ring.

Tag List- Anyone in white could not be tagged. Let me know if I got your tag wrong!!

@inloveallthetime , @microwaveallthedemons , @nayaniasworld , @thecraziestcrayon , @fightmedraco , @blackgirlmagicforever , @nikt-wazny-y , @fangirlloza010 @fussel9913

[vivalarevolution]

𝓐 𝓛𝓾𝓬𝓻𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓤𝓷𝓲𝓸𝓷

Feyd Rautha x Reader

Request: „Feyd with Reader from a lower house. Readers family has been making good moves to gain the barons favor and they have resources the Baron can't turn down. He offers Feyd in a marriage alliance, much to his nephews suprise.‟

A/N: I apologize in advance for such a delay but I was out of town , unable to write. Request written by anon. A very interesting concept that I thoroughly enjoyed writing.

Please remember that english is not my native language, I do not use it on a daily basis, so mistakes can or will happen.

Work contains smut, so minors do not interact.

She was a pawn. From the moment she left her mother's womb she became a pawn. The galaxy forced this role on her without her knowledge or consent. And she could only watch helplessly.

When Baron Vladimir Harkonnen proposed an arranged marriage between her and his youngest nephew her role was reminded once again. And just as before, she could only watch helplessly as her father agreed , without even looking at her.

Because he was driven by greed , greed for which he had to pay the price. A price in the form of his eldest daughter.

And when she found herself in front of her betrothed something crawled to the surface , something erotic. From the moment their eyes met , there was a lustful tension that grew and grew.

Feyd had never met someone like her. He was used to women who were pale , hairless, slender and almost melancholic. She was different. Her head was adorned with soft hair ,cascading down her back like a waterfall. Her face was decorated with rosy cheeks and full, kissable lips. Her body was curvy, shaped almost like the goddesses from the ancient books of Old Terra. Her eyes hid the passionate desire that he wanted to feel in every way imaginable.

And when he found her alone, wandering through the dark corridors of the keep , he decided to capture her.

-Are you following me , my lord na-Baron? - she asked , with a shadow of curiosity in her voice , looking at him out of the corner of her eye.

-You are walking around my fortress. I want to make sure you don't do something you shouldn't - he replied, approaching her, slowly, like a predator to its prey.

-That doesn't change the fact that you're following me - she whispered, turning her head so that she could get a full look at the man's face, his sharp jawline, full lips and cold eyes that made him even more handsome and dangerous.

-And what if you were right ,what if I did ? - he purred, coming closer and closer, so close that their breaths mingled with each other.

-Then I would wonder what have I done to caught the attention of Feyd Rautha himself - she replied , brushing her lips against his with every word she spoke.

-You are to be my wife - he said , placing his hands on her hips, moving them unnoticeably higher ,towards her waist -Isn't that reason enough?

-I do not entirely believe that this is the real reason my lord na-Baron -she proclaimed , covering his hand with hers , stopping his movements.

-What do you think the real reason is? - he asked, touching her cheek, moving his thumb lazily over her skin, making her shiver because of his cold , silver ring.

-You desire me as much as I desire you my lord na-Baron - she whispered into his mouth , looking deeply into his blue eyes , which were burning with want.

Feyd pushed her roughly against a nearby wall , hanging over her smaller body. His hands captured her loins , drawing her closer to him.

-You're walking on a very thin line - he growled , sliding his lips along her neck.

His tongue tasted her flesh , while his teeth bit the soft skin of her throat.

-Forgive me - she breathed out, placing her palms on his muscular torso -Forgive me because I said words that I shouldn't have.

-What do you mean? - he asked, looking at her from the corner of his eye, his nose gliding over the pulse on her neck.

-I feel a need that I have never been able to feel…And I can't control it - she confessed, looking at him from under her long lashes.

-You don't have to - he stated , whispering directly into her ear.

-I have to…because this need…I want my husband to feel it, my lover - she replied, escaping from his embrace.

However, the Baron's nephew did not let her go , even for a single step, before she again found herself in his arms.

-You think I will let you run away? - he asked, pressing her body against his -That I will let you awaken in me a desire I have never felt before and watch helplessly as you leave me…I will not let you.

The woman turned her head in his direction.

-I thought you prefer a challenging chase , easy prey is not of value to you - she admitted , running her gaze towards the dark corridor , the end of which could not be seen - Besides…the walls here seem to have eyes and ears my lord na-Baron , and this could ruin your hunt - she whispered , feeling how besides Feyda's eyes , there was something else hiding in the darkness.

The man followed her gaze , watching the void engulfing them until he heard a single movement , which made him move like a beast of prey , having found his victim.

The woman seizing her chance , disappeared into the abyss of the corridors , leaving na-Baron , who returned to their meeting place moments later , with blood on his hands and a thirst that burned him alive. But she was no longer there.

When there was nowhere to run , he captured her once again. His gaze alone held her in place , as she stood before him so innocent , so delicate , in a white , lace dress that changed color when their blood merged with each other , uniting them forever . Feyd relished the sight of his wife , once so pure , now soiled with the blood he wanted to lick off her body , exchanging his oaths in a voice as cold as ice while his eyes burned with lust.

And when it was finally time to hunt , he felt the beast inside him tearing his way out.

-The time for the hunt has come - the priestess announced.

Na-Baron watched as the woman looked at him confused , but he only grasped her body in response , drawing her close to him.

-You won't run away from me this time…but I'll let you try - he whispered, before he let go of her body, watching as she moved in haste , flying away like a small bird that finally got its freedom , not knowing that a hungry wolf was right behind her.

Feyd let her disappear from his sight before he went after her. His steps echoed through the abandoned halls , but he didn't care , because he wanted her to know that he was coming for her , that he was close , so very close. He stalked her every move, always being one step ahead of her, even though she was still far away.

Until there was nowhere to run.

He found her in his chambers, naked , kneeling on the black satin sheets adorning his bed. She was looking at him, waiting.

He cupped her chin between two fingers, stroking the soft skin of her cheeks, while his thumb traced her full, red lips.

-I truly believed that you would give me a worthy chase. But you're lying here ready for me to devour you - he groaned , sliding his hand down her throat.

-Maybe I've grown tired of waiting for you to catch me, my lord husband - she confessed, rising gently, just enough to brush his lips with hers.

He tightened his fingers on her neck , pulling her closer , attacking her mouth. His kisses were sensual and brutal like him , taking the breath from her lungs as her hands tried desperately to strip him of his clothes , which kept her from feeling his pale skin on her fingertips.

-Aren't you desperate , little wife? - he murmured , inot her mouth

-Please…- she whispered.

Feyd moved away from her , leaving behind the feeling of need on her flesh. His hands stripped off his clothes at a slow pace , relishing in the way his wife , gazed at each , new piece of the skin he uncovered.

And when he got rid of everything that could separate them, he hovered over her just like the night they first met , kissing the skin of her collarbones , heading lower and lower , towards her ample breasts , her round hips and firm thighs.

-Feyd - she whispered, addressing him by name for the first time - What are you doing? - she asked, looking at him.

-I want to taste you , I need to know if you taste as sweet as your blood - he murmured, kissing her inner thigh.

Before the woman had time to reply to his words, his tongue touched her swollen clit, swirling around the pink pearl, making her uncontrollably thrust her pelvis forward, imprisoning the man in the softness of her thighs. Na-Baron , in response, growled, clamping his hands on her body, drawing her impossibly closer, feasting. His mouth explored her womanhood, kissing and licking every part, leaving nothing without his attention. He was bestial, greedily sipping her juices, which tasted like the sweetest dessert of his life, as his eyes stared at the woman before him, who was consumed by the convulsions of pleasure that tore through her body, making her burst into flames that consumed her mind. Feyd watched in delight as she broke under the impact of her orgasm, licking everything she gave him, feeling her muscles go limp under his fingertips and seeing her eyes cloud over with uncontrollable desire.

Without giving her time to recover , he lifted her trembling body , laying it on top of him , sitting down himself , leaning against the headboard of the massive bed.

-You will ride me my little wife , you will ride me until darkness appears in front of your eyes and your body stops listening to you - he growled , marking her neck with purple marks and angry red bites.

The male, grabbed her thighs, entered her slowly, unable to wait a moment longer. His shaft was so big, so thick, that his wife felt as if something was tearing her from the inside, feeling it deep in her belly. So deep that she couldn't breathe properly.

The movements of his loins were strong and rough. His member was kissing her cervix alternately with hitting a spongy point that made her walls clench so tight that no matter how hard he pressed, he couldn't move. The woman was coming out to meet his thrusts, trying to catch up with him, trying to catch the sweet release he had given her a few seconds ago , already addicting to it. Arching her back and exposing herself completely, she wanted him to touch her and don't stop , never stop. And then she felt it. A mass of burning heat flooding her belly. She didn't know anymore whether it was her body that gave her that electrifying heat or maybe it was Feyd's warmth, but she accepted it, she accepted everything.

[ozai-the-bonsai]

Could you write for Daemon targaryen like currently after all those nightmares in harnehal he finds a prisoner of harnehal as the only person who brings him peace him falling in love with her and trying to be better person he still fights for team black obviously rahaenya is definitely not happy with these arrangements especially seeing him all dedicated all in love some things he never have done for her but she have no option currently rather accepting his second wife though at the end when team black would be winning and fight at harnehal like aemond Vs Daemon she ask for reader's head happy ending at the end please or anything you wanna write I just wanna see Daemon happy in love at end please

Finally I have time for my hobbies again! Sorry I left you waiting for ages, this term the exam season was tougher than what I have been accustomed to… Anyways, I have started writing some stuff and I wanted to post the intro instead of writing a full-length chapter 1 since it would have taken a couple more days (:

As a side note, I honestly have no idea where this story will be headed because I have no clear course planned, I had some little ideas and I just started writing them. Also I will be introducing stuff which is not in the asoiaf universe.

I am continuing to read Silmarillion from where I left off and let’s say the ideas about Daemon’s love interest are… inspired from what I have been reading (; Enjoy!

Memento Mori

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 |

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: strong language, I am not a native English speaker, reader is (or will be) described with long hair

This is a very short introduction! Also the chapter is from Daemon’s pov. The title is inspired by Memento Mori by Lamb of God (the song has been a great inspiration for the story so far)

The dungeons of Harrenhal were cold, wet and lonely.

He had no idea when, how and why he had gone down there – one moment, he was in his chambers and the next, he was opening his eyes to the mossy stone walls of the dark dungeons with a torch in his hand. The line between dreams and reality was becoming thinner each day he spent in this cursed castle.

As Daemon walked past the empty cells, he tried to shake off this unsettling feeling lingering around him, dancing on his neck on its tippy toes, making him wonder whether he was indeed alone.

I doubt Simon Strong keeps prisoners down here, he thought while wiping the water from his forehead which was dripping from the broken ceiling. Maybe he has decided to lock up the witch?

Just when the Rogue Prince – correction, the King Consort – was about to turn back and leave the depressing, humid and somewhat eerie atmosphere of the dungeons behind, a soft humming reached his ears.

A soft, sweet humming of a song coming from one of the cells at the very end of the darkness.

“What kind of prisoner is Simon Strong hiding here?” Daemon asked, his voice created echoes as he waved the torch in front of him, trying to cast some light.

The humming stopped immediately, as if the sound itself was cut by a knife.

Daemon’s purple eyes widened upon seeing that the last cell was indeed not empty.

There was a young woman inside, looking at him with her eyes full of curiosity. Her hair had an unearthly shine under the dim moonlight. She tilted her head to the side. “You can see me?” She asked, it was the same soft voice from a moment ago, though the sweetness was no longer there to be felt.

Daemon raised an eyebrow at her direction. “Do people not see you?”

The young woman shook her head, her movements – no matter how simple they were – felt almost too harmonious. “Not normally, it is not intended that I am seen.” Stopping for a moment, she eyed Daemon from head to foot. “You are not really here, are you?”

The raised eyebrow quickly turned into a frown. “What do you mean? I am standing in front of you.”

She shook her head once again. As her soft whisper filled his eyes, Daemon started falling into the nothingness, again, for the unknown-th time ever since he had come to Harrenhal.

“Wake up.”

***

When he woke up, trying to catch his breath, Daemon found himself lying on his bed, as always. Anytime he had one of those weird dreams – he wasn’t even sure if he should call them dreams anymore – his consciousness would find its way back to his bed.

Unless he was daydreaming, which were considerably the worse.

“Who the fuck was that weird woman?” Daemon muttered to himself as he stood up, dressing up in his regular robes. The feeling in his stomach was telling him that he had to go down there, to the dungeons, to find that woman. If he were to wait until dawn, he feared she might be gone.

What was it that she said again? It is not intended she is seen?

Leaving his chambers with a torch in his right hand, Daemon shook his head to the thoughts flowing through his mind, causing his silver hair to move. “Weird woman,” he muttered to himself as he walked through the dark corridors of the castle with haste. “She somehow reminds me of the witch.”

The dungeons were as dark and wet as he remembered from the dream. A cold wind was wandering besides him, kissing the mossy walls and licking Daemon’s skin, sometimes whispering wicked words in his ears. Even the wind was odd here, in Harrenhal, but he had somewhat got used to it – hearing its eerie whispers whenever he walked alone during the hour of the wolf.

“Show yourself,” Daemon spoke with a strong voice which created echoes as he stood in front of that very cell from his dream. “Your king commands it!”

“Huh, king?” The same soft voice answered from the dark corner of her cell. The moonlight had left its shining spot, leaving the torch in Daemon’s hands as the only source of light in this entire corridor of the dungeons. “I answer to no king.”

A condescending scoff left Daemon’s lips as he came closer to the bars made of steel, separating him and the weird woman. “You do live in Westros, do you not?” Daemon asked, not really waiting for an answer. “As long as you breathe in this land, you do answer to the King.”

A chuckle came from the darkness. “I have been breathing in this land before your ancestors flew across the Narrow Sea, Daemon Targaryen.”

Taglist: @throughgoeshamilton @mirandastuckinthe80s @xicesam @mariamyousef702 @eddiemadmunson @dont-try-pesticide @sweetybuzz25 @hc-geralt-23 @schniiipsel @ttae-yong @syrma-sensei @asiludida164 @kaitieskidmore1 @irmavanity-blog @pax-2735 @trickrtreatart @shanzeyxsyed @random-human02 @scarwicht @xcallmetaniax @instabull @niiight-dreamerrrr @my-dark-prince @stargaryenx @abaker74 @babywolff @sonnensplitter @bi-narystars @softtina @sadmonke @avalyaaa

[fanaticsnail]

Maybe some other time, Wire

Hey Doc Masterlist

Word Count: 900+

Synopsis: Wire is curious about your past and asking a lot of questions. You would prefer if he left this for another time considering the operation you're performing.

Themes: Kid Pirates x gn!reader, platonic series, you are 'Doc', the doctor of the Kid Pirates. Risky language, not explicit, humour, Wire is being intrusive, he tests your patience. This started as a fun crack series, and I needed to bring it back.

Notes: Permissions for art used from @magnuspirate was given, and how beautiful is he? Go and have a look at their other work. I am obsessed with how they draw Heat, alongside the other Kid Pirates. I dreamed about this fic last night and woke up laughing a little bit about it. 5am fic writing, my beloved.

“Hey, Doc?” The calm and low baritone of the trident user called sweetly over his shoulder to you, “Why don't you like to talk about your past?”

His question seemed reasonable enough. You had yet to really discuss who you were, what you did, or anything to do with personal relationships before joining the Kid Pirates. You weren't a native to the North like the majority of the crew, being an outsider they let in when visiting a port.

Letting out a soft sigh, you shook your head and continued to make good on the taste you set for yourself. Knitting your brows tighter together, you pursed your lips and used your utensil to extract another small object between their pincers.

“I just don't particularly like talking about me,” you utter without inflection on the words, “It's not a pretty story, nor is it remotely interesting in my opinion.” You placed the object in a small container before making to go back for another, “Now, I would prefer to focus on what I'm doing, so if you would please refrain from asking me questions, I would appreciate it.”

Wire pondered for a few moments, humming softly as he thought more on your deflection of the question.

“You know, I'm no ships counselor,” Wire uttered defensively, “But even I know not to internalize your past, especially when it caused you such a hard injury earlier.”

You look down at your healed leg briefly, still feeling the sting of the object embedded in your muscle, and the sour flavor from the poison igniting your blood. Shaking it off, you once again return to what you had set yourself to do.

“You're right,” you agree with him, nodding briefly, “You're not ship's counselor. Now, please stop asking me questions about my past. I would be happy to answer anything you want soon, but not now.”

Wire seemed to take this as his queue to sit in silence as you plucked and prodded at your latest project. But that silence only lasted as long as his questions halted its burn.

“Who was that person?” Wire asked you suddenly, his voice a little louder than it had been moments prior, “And why did they attack you on sight?” You sighed through your nose at this, rolling your neck on your shoulders to rid it of tension from your hunched position.

“Some other time, Wire,” you growled, your voice low and laced with warning. Wire refused to take that as reason enough to stop, curiosity eating at him the longer you avoided it.

“And the poison?” he asked you suddenly, “Why did you have a cure under your bed? Were you expecting something like this?”

“Wire,” you made your voice a little louder, disciplinary and tough, “Enough. I am concentrating.”

“And why did-?” Wire began once more, prompting you to throw your tweezers into the tray beside you and move to where he was laying face down on the medical bay.

Bringing your eyes to his, you narrowed them and upturned your lip to a soft grimace.

“Wire, I said some other time,” you spoke firmly, “I did not say ‘no’, nor did I avoid the questions you’re asking.” You nod along, ensuring you maintained eye contact with him. “I will answer you, just not now. Do you understand?”

Wire furrowed his brows, his mop of dark and silvery curls dancing at his face with his hood laying on the medical office chair. Still reclining on his belly, his curiosity plagued him as he darted his eyes between yours.

“Why won't you answer me now? We're alone, you don't have to think about it, you can just speak,” he commented, gently reaching one of his larger hands towards you and giving your forearm a friendly squeeze. “I thought we were friends. You don't have to talk, but I can admit, the curiosity has been eating at me since we got back from our mission to that island together.”

You inhaled a deep lungful of air, expanding your chest with it, before deflating it through a lengthy exhale through your nose.

“Wire,” you warn him almost sweetly, “You are currently laying flat down, on your belly, on my examination bed with your briefs, shoes and fishnets tucked neatly on the chair in front of you.” You gesture towards the chair his hood was tucked on. “And I am currently operating extremely close to, and directly on, your anus.”

You gesture towards the tray, reminding him where he was, and who he was talking to. A warm blush flooded his whiskered cheeks, burning his features with the hot ignition of a large fluster.

“Now, while I appreciate the sentiment, and I adore you, commander,” you utter sweetly, returning to your position at his exposed rear cheeks, “Removing cactus spindles from your ass cheeks, inside and outside your rectum, and the ones you managed to collect on your scrotum…” you continued, picking up your tweezers and returning to your task, “...Is not the position I would like to be in when talking about my childhood.”

Wire gulped back his silence, burying his forehead on his butterflied out arms. The tips of his ears remained red as you continued, wanting to punish him a little for continuing to push your boundaries.

“The only place I appreciate winking at me when I talk is from the eyes attached to your face,” you comment, plucking another spindle from his flesh and placing it in the container beside you, “So, please refrain from asking me personal questions while I am so close to your sphincter. I think we would both prefer it if the mood for intimate conversation was set elsewhere. Am I clear, sir?”

Wire nodded, extending his left arm over his blushing head and gesturing with his thumb to confirm your orders.

“Aye, Doc,” he mumbled against his right arm, “You're clear.”

“Wonderful."

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @sordidmusings @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory @nerium-lil @sinning-23 @a-killer-obsession

[arxxq]

𝐖𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑..

[ 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐘 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 <3 !! ]

writing for my favorite characters: itoshi rin, akabane karma, sano manjiro

itoshi rin - mentions a guitarist reader,

akabane karma- mentions of rivals troupe,

manjiro sano- grumpy girl x sunshine boy,

: any mistakes will either be left unedited or will be edited when I do so, english is not my native language so be warned, I do not support plagiarism, do not steal my works, mentions of female reader in my head but not to worry it's all gender neutral, if used she/her pronounce it's because I imagine the reader as a female I apologize for that :

"a beauty just like your melody..." :

: itoshi rin is someone who's known to be cold and reserved to most others, some find him to be unapproachable and some find his demeanor is intimidating and some admire him for his talents, achievements and his hard work which makes it hard to believe he had someone to begin with..but he did and it was with one of the most talented guitarist in the whole school [name]. no one knew what was going on between them but some just assume they were just close friends since childhood but little did they know the two of them had a little thing going on,

it was after school, there they were one strumming their guitar while the other listened to their playing. the teal eyed man had his gaze on them so mesmerized at their beauty. once they finished [name] felt like they were being stared at so they giggled and looked at him. "did you enjoy the song or was your mind occupied somewhere else?" rin was unfazed but he let out a small chuckle which was very rare. "yk I love you right?" they were taken aback but laughed. "more than soccer?" the boy rolled his eyes "I hate to admit but I do love you more than soccer" :

"I hate you...I hate myself for that too"

: Everyone knew the hatred [name] held for akabane karma and I think it goes the same way for him as well, they were rivals since junior high even. [name] hated that red headed boy for everything, how he was better than him in most things, how cocky he gets, his behavior. basically everything. what made them hate despise him more was that he was always either one or two above her. it was time where mid years were about to come, [name] was in the library studying and it was late at night, by now no one was in the library except them and the librarian. They were getting tired and their mood was ruined. what made it worse was when they heard that voice.

"Oh well you look at that, it's miss perfect studying" that annoying voice rang in their head. "What do you want akabane?" she said with a hoarse voice. "In fact what are you even doing here," the boy studied [name]'s face and how visibly tired she looked. "Just returning a book...you should get a break you know and try and not get too worked out?" They scoffed. "I'm serious...you shouldn't get worked up," [name] glared at him. "Why the fuck do you care?" The boy was getting annoyed by their stubborn behavior. "Well believe it or not I'm not a dick like how you see me to be," he yelled. Lucky for them the librarian didn't hear "I hate you...I hate you I fucking do. I hate how you always manage to one up me, how you don't care about what people say to you, how you don't care about fitting it...I hate you and I hate myself for that" [name] admitted. The boy was taken aback. "Well believe it or not I don't hate you....I never did so let's start a new beginning for me and you?" He sat down beside you and smiled "I'd..I'd like that.."

"You're always so grumpy cheer up!"

: sano manjiro, [name] did not know how they got together in the first place because in the beginning of the year they were complaining about how immature Mikey is and how he keeps skipping class. they also complained how he is in a gang which isn't really good but now here they are together with him. At first [name] found him intimidating and everything but after getting to know him he was basically just such a big baby and pain to deal with. In their relationship they're basically the grumpy one one in the relationship.

"[Name] let's get dorayaki!" Mikey says ecstatic while the girl was not in the mood at the moment. "No please let's not I'm too tired for this Mikey!" She complains. "Come on loosen up" he drags her to his motorcycle. "Mikey don't you dare drive at an insane spee-! Mikey!" From afar draken and Emma were laughing at their odd relationship. "Those two are really something aren't they ken?" Draken laughed. "they really are"

Authors note:

my favorite characters <3 but if you ask me between all my favorites karma will always have a special place in my heart ngl. You don't know how much I love assassination classroom to this day. It will always have a small special place in my heart and I honestly don't mind that at all.

sincerely your dear author !

-Arxx/Hasinah.

All rights reserved do not plagiarize !

[mirohlayo]

FRENCH LOVE

( French is romantic, at least when you understand it. )

warning : fluff

note : I had to write in my native language at least once

word count : 683

Charles came to take a seat next to you, on the empty spot on the sofa. His eyes admired you with such a special and indescribable depth, that you couldn't describe what feeling he felt deep inside when he laid his eyes on you. “Have you finished your report?” His arm naturally came to rest on the edge of the sofa, moving closer to you, his fingers brushing the tip of your shoulder. “Yes, for today.” You try as best you can to hide your embarrassment by turning off your laptop.

“Viens ici, mon coeur” (come here, sweetheart) You didn't understand these words, only you quickly understood their meaning when Charles opened his arms wide so that you could snuggle into them. So with a light and beating heart, you settled comfortably into his comforting embrace. “Tu es tellement belle et ravissante comme ça” (you look so beautiful and lovely like that)

You didn't know what he was talking about, what words he was careful to use. After all, you don't understand the French language. But his perfect smile and bright eyes made you understand that it was probably something positive. So, you smiled at him in turn, although you didn't know the meaning of his sentence.

Several minutes, warm and peaceful, passed like this. His hand wandered quietly through your hair, plunging you a little deeper into a well deserved sleep. "J'aurai aimé prendre soin de toi ainsi... mais pas juste en tant que meilleur ami. En tant que copain" (I wish I could take care of you like that...but not just as your best friend. But as your boyfriend). His voice drummed strangely loud in your ears.

You sat up slightly so you could look at him, a questioning look fixed on your face. Your expression made him chuckle softly, and his fingers came up to sweep away a strand of hair. "Heureusement que tu ne comprends pas ce que je dis" (Luckily you don’t understand what I’m saying.). Your eyebrows suddenly furrowed, perplexed by how he always spoke in French when he was around you.

"What did you say ?". You could only blurt out these few words, a sign of your incomprehension of the language he used. A glint of sadness moved discreetly behind his pupils, before he drifted his gaze behind you. “I said… fortunately you don’t understand what I say when I speak French.”

You tilted your head slightly, confused. "Why ?". Your eyes begged him to answer you without you even realizing it. He looked away again, feeling insecure. “You will certainly never see me the same way again…” His sentence is only a slight sigh, which nevertheless managed to reach your ears.

Your hands were now intertwined with his, while he showed a saddened expression. “You will always be the most important person in my life, Charles.” His eyes searched yours, perhaps to find hope and courage there. "Even though I love you? Not like your best friend. I love you, I'm in love with you. So much in love that I'm losing my mind."

He pauses for a moment before continuing slowly. “I was trying to be obvious because French is a romantic language, but I think it failed.” He scratches the back of his neck embarrassed. “Completely failed, I was wondering when you were finally going to explain to me what those sentences meant.” A laugh escapes your throat as he looks at you tenderly, a smile on his lips.

“So, can you translate the sentences you said to me?” Your eyebrows raised curiously, while Charles' cheeks turned a pretty pink. He clears his throat loudly. "Oh uh.. I was just saying that you are incredibly beautiful, lovely, very intelligent and just... adorable." You couldn’t help but kiss the corner of his lips softly, your heart racing.

“So if you were to say that, I think I could get used to listening to you speak French.” Charles laughed softly, cupping your face, placing his sweetest kiss on your lips. "Je t'aime". These words now sounded obvious to you. “I love you too, Charles.”

[look-me]

“𝑷𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑪𝑬𝑺𝑺”

masc!reader x dealer!abby

————————-

warnings: fingering, using of weed, semi-public sex, r!receiving, idk what else lol

————————

au: a/u:please don’t mind any grammar mistakes and please cuz english its not my native language. ps. i never write a smut. also i’ll probably won’t correct any mistakes cuz i’m too lazy for it😭 (edit. omg this is shitty how can y’all read this😭)

part 1

part 2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Smoking together with abby means: she smokes and you drink some beer because she knows you don't smoke.

You met her a long time ago when some friends of yours were too embarrassed to ask her for weed, so they sent you instead.

At first, you hated Abby because everyone always said "she's hot," "I want to have sex with her," etc. You thought people were exaggerating about her until you saw her for the first time.

Your friends were damn right.

She was a goddess: masculine, tall, muscular, dark blonde hair braided in a fishtail, pale freckled skin, and blue eyes.

Everything you liked together. Let's just say the truth. You got a crush on her immediately.

You loved masculine women more than your life, but we all know that masc4masc women are almost impossible. You tried to be more feminine once, but it made you uncomfortable, and you knew that being masculine wouldn’t make you attractive to other mascs, so you got used to having a crush on a masc but then letting your eyes get off of her immediately because it was useless.

{ "Like for real, can't you go and ask her yourself?"

"ARE YOU CRAZY? ARE YOU ASKING ME TO GO TALK TO ABBY FUCKING ANDERSON?!" you turn your head to your other friend.

"Ash, come on, please..."

"Don't look at me, I like her too."

Fuck...

You had no other choice but to talk to Abby.

You were behind a tall guy, so you couldn't see Abby at all. The moment the guy in front of you got away, freeing your view, you melted inside.

"Hey, can I have some of your good stuff?" Abby stared at you for a bit, thinking you were just playing around with her.

"So? Are we going to be here all night, or are you going to give me some cannabis so I can leave?"

"You don't look like a girl who smokes cannabis."

"Just give me the fucking weed, man."

"Watch your mouth, princess," she said, smirking all the time while talking to you.

Princess?

Just when you were about to say something back, you got a call.

"No, I haven't taken it yet. I'll be back in a second."

Abby watched you, a bit confused, but she was understanding something.

"My friends were too embarrassed to come get it themselves, and they're also in a hurry. Can you just give me the weed and let me go?"

Bingo, she was right.

You gave her the money, and she finally gave it to you.

"Told you, you don't look like a girl who smokes."

"I don't want to be drug-obsessed like my fucking father." you say nonchalant

From that phrase, her smirk disappeared, and everything changed from Abby's perspective. You went back to your friends, and you guys hung out for a bit. After your friends got tired of walking, you sat down at some typical stairs with them, where they could smoke with no problems.While you were chatting with them, you saw a familiar woman walking towards your direction, Abby.You didn't care that much because those stairs were full of people smoking, drinking, or just chilling out. Your friends quietly freaked out when they saw her but without being noticeable. At first, you thought she knew someone in all this mess until your friends noticed her coming literally towards your direction.

"Hey princess, can you come here for a second?" she said with that fucking smirk.

You swore to God you wanted to rip it off her face.

You hesitated for a few seconds and then went down the stairs to reach her. She walked up to you, breaking the little space you had created between you two, and you were a few inches away from her.

"What do you want? If it's about the money, don't even try to argue with me. The money wasn't mine, and it wasn't any of my business, so you can go argue with my frien—"

"Shut up." You froze at this phrase and were getting ready for anything that could happen.

"Just wanted your number in case you want other things from me."

"I told you already, I don't smoke. If you want, I can give you one of my friend's numbers."

"You came reaching for me, not them."

You turned your head back to look at your friend and then back at Abby.

"Listen, Abby, each one of my friends right there has a crush on you. If I give you my number, they will get mad at me and think I'm trying to have something with you, trying to make them jealo—"

"Well, fuck them then." Abby put her arm behind your back, pushing you a little to make you walk with her until you were right next to her.

"What are you doing?"

"Relax."

"I hate you." She laughed at your sentence.

While you two walked away, Abby started a conversation with you, and you guys talked almost all night. When you had to leave, she insisted on having your number, saying she didn't care about your friends.

Since that day, you two enjoyed your time together more.

Funny, right?

Back to the present

There was a quiet silence between you two until...

"What's up with you?" Abby said, turning her head to look at you.

"Huh?"

"You're quiet today, something you barely are."

"It's nothing," you said, taking a small sip of your beer without looking at her.

"You're lying"

"I'm not, Abigail."

At that name, she turned to you, placed her hand on your shoulder, and pushed you a little. "Don't put the mean masc on me right now. You know you're not."

You rolled your eyes in response.

"Tell me what's going on, princess."

Princess.

A stupid nickname she gave you for playing around and not the way you wished she used it for you.

"I just... like a girl who doesn't like me back." At this phrase, Abby removed her back from the wall you two were sitting against and sat in front of you.

"And why doesn't this bitch"

"Don't call her that, Abby"

"Fine, fine," she said in an annoying tone while she carried her joint close to her lips and held it in, letting a puff of gray smoke out.

"She's just not into me."

"Don't lie to me. I know there's more."

"Oh my God, Abby."

"What? Can't I know why this bitch doesn't want you?" She kept her serious and attractive tone all the time. Why does she have to do that?

"Abby."

"Come on, Y/N."

"She's not into mascs, so I'm not her type at all. Caring and shit. She won't ever see me like that."

"It's not that big of a deal then"

"It is for me."

"Let me guess, she's a masc too."

"Yeah."

"You'll find someone else who's better than her."

"See, that's why I can't talk with you."

"What are you trying to say?"

"Abby, you never had a serious relationship. You've never been really in love. You literally flirt with 100 women every hour."

"That doesn't mean I can't give you my advice."

"Yeah, easy for you to say that. You can have every girl you want, and they will come to you with no second thoughts."

"What does it have to do with me, Y/N?" she said with her typical tone, even if irritated.

"Nothing, you don't understand," you said, looking away from her and taking another sip of your beer.

"Then what's the problem?"

"None, let's just forget about this."

"Now you tell me."

"I said, there's no problem."

"You know I'm not some of your stupid friends. Think about how you treat me," she said like she was about to kill you, but you ignored her completely.

"I'm talking to you," she said, grabbing your face with one of her veiny hands to face her.

"The problem is she's right in front of me," you said without noticing, irritated by the action she just did, removing her hand from your face brutally.

Oh fuck.

"What did you say?"

"I didn't mean it, I'm just mad." You didn't look at her, but with the corner of your eye, you saw a smirk appearing on her face.

"Abby, I'm drunk now. You can't take what I say seriously."

"A drunk person doesn't know she's drunk."

"Can you shut the fuck up?" After your sentence, Abby grabbed you by the neck and pulled you towards her face. You could literally see all her little freckles that you can't normally see.

"How many times do I have to tell you to watch your mouth, princess?"

"Abby, let me go. You're high," you said, trying to let go of her hand by trying to stand up but failing and falling on her lap.

"I can handle all of this more than you," she said, wrapping her hands around your waist.

"Abby, don't do things you're going to regret later."

"I'm not going to."

"Abby, seriously, I'm not any of your bitches. Don't fucking play with me."

"Watch your attitude with me, Y/N," she whispered, then slowly kissed your lips. Your mind started spinning so fast, and your heart was about to explode. One of her hands moved from your waist and slid into your pants. Her fingers made a connection with your clothed pussy.Slowly, her finger ran up your slit through your panties.

"Abby.."

"I'm right here, princess," she said as she applied more pressure, causing you to whimper, your hips bucking into her finger that wouldn't stop running through your slit. "Tell me, baby, who told you I wasn't into you, huh?" she said with a smirk plastered on her face. You didn't respond, too shocked by the situation. "Look at me." You hid yourself even more in her neck, too afraid of what could happen. "Y/N, I said look at me." You moved your head from her neck to face her. Those blue eyes were eating you alive.

"You're such a good girl." Abby pushed your panties to the side, and you moaned instantly, your body jerking as she slipped a finger inside you. "Look at you, so sweet and caring, kinda turns me on," she said, adding another finger into you while giving you hickeys on your exposed neck. All of this was unbelievable to you, so without caring too much, you started riding on her fingers. Her lips sucking on your neck, her fingers going in and out of your pussy, it was too much pleasure that you came right after hearing Abby moan in satisfaction.

"Fuck... Abby," you said, trying to catch your breath again, resting your head on her neck while she removed her hand from your panties and licked her fingers from your juices. You took a few seconds to realize what happened, and when you did, you tried to get away from Abby's grip, hoping you could run away and never see her again so you could drown your feelings for her, until you felt a pressure keeping you down.

"Where are you going, princess? You're stuck with me now," she said while her hands made their way under your shirt, caressing your back.

"I don't believe you, Abigail."

"Call me that name again, and I'Il find a way to shut this little pretty mouth of yours."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

"Don't worry, I'll show you who you belong to."

"Fuck you," you said, not looking at her.

You knew she probably just used you as her sex toy, so you tried your best not to fuck her off and run away.

Part 2?😭