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caesium-55 · 3 months

Text

—seven days. [ iii ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: hi hello welcome to part three. i flunked the quiz. lemme know what you think. NOT BETA READ. NOT EDITED. this chapter kinda sux. can't believe i went through a breakup just last week and i still cant write decent post-breakup scenes.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab hope i didn't forget anyone.

masterlist.

you: *sent a link*

him: ?

him: what's this

you: benefits of crying

you: read it it's enlightening

him: some people do not cry over a breakup you know and that is totally okay

you: why crying helps.

you: 1. tears release toxins, stress hormones to be specific. it is good to let all the bad energy out.

you: 2. it aids sleep. no need for further explanation.

you: 3. crying releases oxytocin and endorphins. i know you don't know what an oxytocin or an endorphin is but they're happy chemicals.

you: 4. crying helps you receive the support you need from the people around you. EMOTIONAL VULNERABILITY is okay, max. stop treating it like an STD.

him: it feels like an std

you: pussy

you: emotional vulnerability is a thing and it's normal so stop trying to be a big strong man when you're barely holding it together.

you: you may look fine now but i know you

him: please stop

you: no

you: 5. crying has a self soothing effect. very nice actually. it activates the rest and digest system.

him: what even is that

you: the parasympathetic nervous system

him: ??

you: this is why you shouldn't have dropped out of high school

you: education is important yknow

you: youre already lacking in three forms of intelligence, academic, emotional n social intelligence

him: fuck you im smart

you: fuck you 2 and yeah you're smart but only in geography

you: you probably can't do your taxes

him: im dutch so the company's account department do it for me by default

him: the american system is just weird

you: cant argue w/ u there

you: also, 6. crying helps restore emotional balance

you: see? you need that

you: yknow now that i think abt it you should consider seeking therapy

him: what makes you think i’m not in therapy right now

you: well have you considered getting MORE therapy?

You stand in front of the body mirror, holding the Red Bull polo shirt against your body to see how it looks on you for one last time. On your right sleeve, the word MANAGER is written in bold, white text. Because that was what you were. Just a manager.

In another universe this is not the shirt that you’d be wearing. The MANAGER would have been ENGINEER. In another another universe where your family has been well-off enough to continuously send you to karting school and you would have been the one driving the fucking car by now.

You know, if Max has even tried talking to Horner and suggested that you should be moved into the engineering team, then you wouldn't be stuck wearing this god-awful polo that burned your skin every time you wore it for work. Everybody reduced you as Max’s American manager and because you are American, most of them kind of just assumed that you're dumb, you know?

Does the world even know how smart you are? That you graduated top of your class, got the best thesis award, and that you had finished your masters just this year? Did they even know that a Japanese car company wanted you on their research team? That a NASCAR team wanted you on board as one of their engineers? Does Max even know?

Fuck no. He only knows that you're the best at ironing clothes and organizing his Google calendar and memorizing his entire coffee order by heart. He knew you're good at extinguishing kitchen fires and kicking ass in YSL Opyum heels. You doubt he knows that you can do Calculus in your sleep.

You can take it if the world puts you down for your appearance. But if the world puts you down because of your intellect? That's a different story. You'll take any insult to the face but not to your intelligence.

You have four days left in Monaco so you have begun packing already. You're right, everything did fit into three suitcases. Also, you haven't told Max yet. For some reason, you’re too anxious. Which is shocking to say the least because you never ever gets anxious when it came to Max Verstappen. You wouldn't have lasted this long working alongside Max if you were a pussy.

Max Max Max Super Max Max—

“[Name] here. Need anythin’, champ?”

Hearing a sob on the other end of the line immediately activates your fight or flight response. Your eyes widen and you toss the Red Bull shirt aside. Your legs leads you to the nearly empty shoe rack stationed beside the front door, grabbing the pair of shoes at the very top of the tiny shelf and throwing them on.

“I’m comin’ there. Hang on, Max. You wait for me, okay?”

He doesn't answer, just continuing to sob and the sound absolutely breaks your heart.

You run to his penthouse at a speed that will even put the RB19 to shame. Not even bothering to knock, you barge in and yell his name in the empty halls of his penthouse. You search in the kitchen. He's not there. The living room. Not there either. The room where his simulations are. Not there. You run to his bedroom upstairs.

The door is locked. Dammit. Panic overflooded your system.

“Max, sweetheart, you there?”

No answer, but you can hear a faint sound behind the door if you press your ear against the wood. Firefighter training covered how to open a fucking door when it was locked so this once again becomes a situation where you're grateful that you did that tiring and borderline suicidal volunteer work.

Max keeps a fire extinguisher inside his penthouse as per your advice. There is one stationed in almost every room inside his house. You knew there is one inside his room and another one just at the end of the hallway. You make a quick run for it and once you have the extinguisher in your hands, you run back to his door.

“Step away from the door!” you instructed while your mind mentally calculates your payment plan as you hit the door knob with so much force, the walls tremble at your strength. You're functioning on pure adrenaline. Your instincts only yell one thing and that is: go to Max. No one and nothing in this world will keep you from him. It isn't long until his bedroom door broke down. With one last final kick, it crumbles down from its hinges and you forcefully pry it open and sprint inside.

Max tucks himself in the tiny space in the corner of his huge bedroom, his knees shoved up to his chest. A 181-cm tall man trying to make himself as small as possible.

This is it. This is the bottled-up emotions he's been storing since Abu Dhabi. You cannot say you have not anticipated this. Max is bound to explode sooner or later.

Panic attacks have made a home in Max’s body since he was a child. That's what one gets when they’re parented by someone like Jos Verstappen. He killed Max’s soul and made the boy a machine and for what? To shape a child into a man, a racer that he wanted to be but failed to become at the cost of Max's mental health and childhood.

When Max looks up with that heartbreaking look on his face, you almost crumble. Almost, because you cannot crumble. Not when Max needs you.

Sometimes, you forget what it took for Max to become the champion that he is today. A childhood sacrificed for his dominance on the tracks. A whole lot of hatred from the people to become a WDC. And now, a love lost for his third consecutive championship.

“You came,” his voice cracks towards the end.

Your eyes soften, “You called, Max. Course I’ll come.”

You barely brace yourself for the impact that is Max’s body wrapping around yours in a tight hug. The man have literally launch himself from the floor to you at sixth gear speed. You stumble backwards slightly, holding his bed for support so the both of you won't fall down.

“Max—”

“No,” he whispers and his grip on your tightens as if he's afraid that you’ll slip away if he even tried to give your lungs space to breathe. “Don't speak. Stay.”

What Max wanted, what Max would get. So you shut your mouth, shuffle slightly so he'll be in a more comfortable position and allow him take whatever he wants from you. This will be the last chance he’ll ever do it anyway because in four days time, you’re flying to Texas.

You stay for what is probably hours in that position. Crumbled together on the floor, leaning against the side of Max’s king-sized bed. Your shirt is completely damp from his tears but you cannot even bring yourself to care about it.

“Your shoes…” It's the first time Max has spoken since the start of his meltdown.

“Hm?” you turn your head and your nose nuzzles against his hair, making you scrunch it up a little. His hair is tickling your nostrils. If you lean a little forward, your lips will meet the skin of his temple.

“They’re mismatched.”

Brows furrowed, your eyes move to your feet and see that Max is right. Your shoes are indeed mismatched. On your left is one of your Adidas slides and the other is your slip-on Skechers. You ran from one building to another in mismatched shoes. Fucking embarassing.

“Ignore them.”

Silence.

“You good now?”

“No.”

“Okay,” you say. “If you want to talk, I’ll listen.”

You hear Max let out a shaky breath, “Just stay for a while. Don't leave me alone.”

“Okay.”

Eventually, you manage to talk Max out of the hug. You're beginning to feel claustrophobic but you do not want to say it out right so you try to negotiate instead. That's how you and Max found yourselves inside his kitchen again. You're trying to replicate your Abuela's cheesecake, which she was known for back in Austin, and Max is…well, he's Max and he’s trying to be helpful in any way he can. If it's some other day, you'd have shoved him out of the way because you prefer working alone in the kitchen. Having eyes on you gives you anxiety. But given today’s circumstances, you do not have the heart to make Max leave so you task him with doing the little stuff like mixing things and throwing shit to the trash can nearby. And he does so splendidly.

“Thank you, by the way.”

“For what, baby?” You internally wince at your own slip of the tongue. Damn that habit of yours of calling people with affectionate call signs. Thankfully, Max seems to have not noticed it.

“For coming here.”

You shrug.

“I only did what you did for me in 2021.”

Again, your breakup with Leo was bad bad. You spent a month crying for a love lost and Max was there for you. For the most part, at least. You want him to focus on winning and winning alone that you pushed him away a lot of times but you appreciated how he was more obedient to your commands, that he held his tongue so he wouldn't piss you off even though he was not liking your words, and that he was considerate of you.

“I hope you won't go into fights though,” you chuckle. “Like I did after my breakup.”

He smiles, shaking his head lightly and you know he's recalling the memory. 2021 is a hilarious year for you, the Red Bull manager. You went viral after getting into a cat fight with a girl and a whole fist fight with her boyfriend.

You and Leo called it quits a week before Monaco and even though it had been four races since then, your heart was still in a quite fragile state at that specific race weekend. One minor inconvenience was enough to ignite a wild blaze of fire within you and nobody could extinguish the flames.

After Silverstone FP1, you were leading Max to the cool down room to brief him with Horner’s relayed instructions and someone had thrown a glass bottle towards the both of you while walking. Originally, Max was the main target of the bottle but you happened to have moved towards the line of trajectory and the bottle landed on your temple, hard enough that you stumbled upon impact.

You barely heard Max’s shocked gasp and shout of panic over the sound of glass shattering on your foot because the only thing you could register was the terrifying feeling of a thick liquid trickling down the side of your face and you didn't even need to see it to know it was blood.

The only thing you saw was red and it was on fucking sight.

Fucking Hamilton fan. Fucking Hamilton. He’s in Max’s way. He’s in your way. He’s the wall that was dividing you from your dream position in the engineering team.

You shoved the iPad you were holding to Max’s hands and marched down to the woman wearing the Merc #44 merch, swiftly jumping over the barricade and grabbing her by the collar of her pristine white Versace top.

The events that followed were too fast. You grabbed her collar. She pulled your hair. You also pulled her hair. Someone pulled her away from you. You tried to grab her, clawing her bare arms with your manicured nails. She screamed. You screamed back. You pulled out some curse words in Spanish as well because cursing her in one language alone is not enough. Her boyfriend appeared. A quick punch to your cheek. You fell to the ground.

The world stood still. There was a sting on your palm because your skin got torn from the hard surface of the concrete ground. You let a bloodcurdling war cry and your Dad would definitely be disappointed at you for using the boxing techniques he taught you for self defense purposes only to fight a guy two times your size.

Everything was a bigger blur from there. But you did remember the sensation of Max’s strong arms around you, stopping you from lunging forward again. He was saying sweet words to your ear to calm you down but your brain failed to intercept them so you could hear the words, could hear his voice, but not understand any of it. You remember Christian Horner's disappointed face that haunted you even two years later. You remembered feeling so terrified as you sat outside Christian Horner’s office waiting for the final verdict while he and Max and a few of the Red Bull higher-ups argued about your future with the team. You remembered hearing Max’s loud snarl on the other side of the mahogany door: “Did you see her face?! There was blood everywhere! On her nose, on her mouth, on the fucking side of her head!” You remembered the girl taking the case to court. You remembered fearing that you’d be sent to jail. You remembered that she lost the case because it was ruled as self defense and your injuries were grave. You remembered discovering that it was Max who used all his power and got the best lawyer to fight your case. You remembered the atmosphere in the Red Bull garage shifting when you entered it a few weeks later and everyone stared the bandages and bruises. Everyone thought one thing: of course, it would also take a monster to manage a monster like Max Verstappen. You remembered Lewis Hamilton, seven-time world champion, apologizing personally for the fight caused by his own fan. He didn't need to but he was so sincere with it that you cried when he handed you the apology flowers. God, how could you even hate this man? Your anger towards him was misplaced.

You’d been living with the guilt ever since, that you were horrifyingly violent for a day, that you were capable of killing for a day. And it could happen again. One day. God, you hoped you wouldn't have to see that day. You knew all your coworkers have been careful with angering you ever since. They're terrified of you even. Max should be, too. But then again, why would he when he already saw the horrors done by his father’s hands ever since he was a child? He was used to it.

“I won't,” he says, smiling at you. “I wouldn't want to add anymore problems for you to clean up.”

But you will not be the one cleaning it up because you resigned. You didn’t tell that to him though. Not right now. He just had a meltdown over Kelly leaving him and the news of his manager leaving him too will destroy him.

The cheesecake is a little burnt when you take it out of the oven but it actually adds more flavor to it so yeah, that's a win.

“We should drink,” you suggest.

“It’s mid-afternoon.”

“We drank at mid-afternoon yesterday,” you give him a blank stare. “With Alex and Charles, remember?”

He doesn't say anything as you make your way to his fridge and pull out two bottles of beer. Max has champagne stored somewhere but you have enough of those expensive champagnes. You need beer. Beer is good. Beer is nice. You're a beer type of person and it is time Max becomes one, too.

“I’m no scientist,” you begin, biting off the beer’s bottle cap. “But according to chemistry, alcohol is solution.”

Well, technically, edible alcohol or ethanol is not a mixture. Rather, it's a pure substance that happens to be a liquid at room temperature and typical atmospheric pressure. Pure ethanol is not a solution. Hard spirits though? That's a solution.

Beer is not a hard spirit. It's more of a fermented drink. But Max doesn't know that, though, so you don't bother explaining the science behind it.

Somewhere down the road, the two of you move to his living room. You use the Youtube app in his TV to search karaoke video and have the bestest time of your lives. You're screaming along some Daddy Yankee and El Alfa songs and Max doesn't know how to speak Spanish so he’s just vibing to it.

At 5 PM, you pull out Max’s expensive vodka bottle. Now this is the real shit. The ten bottles of beer? Those are just pregame. Max is already drunk with just those because he’s a pussy but you’re no pussy, so the only right answer is vodka! Viva la vodka or whatever.

Your throat gets tired of singing and Max gets tired from dancing, too, so you both decide to just go entertain yourselves in other ways. First, you introduced Max to beer-pong. He loses, of course. He sucks at everything not racing. Then, the two of you move onto chess. Max gives up mid-game. He cannot understand the rules. Then, lastly, you move to the billiard table Max owned. He only used it when the other guys are over and you do not even know why he bought it when he sucked at playing billiards.

“You know what Kelly said the morning before the race?” Max suddenly says and you look up at him, brow raising slightly. He’s drunk; his skin is flushed and he is all giggly and smile-y as he sits on the billiard table’s side rail and using the billiard stick as some sort of support stand to keep him from falling. You hope he won't accidentally poke himself. You're no better, too. Ten beer bottles and a few glasses of vodka. But you’re not as drunk as Max, and you still have a straight vision and you can still sink the colored balls into the pockets of the billiard table.

“Hm?”

“That it was unfair for her.”

You raise a questioning brow, “Why?”

“I bought shoes and they don't fit her.”

You blink. He laughs at himself as if he has uttered the funniest joke in the world.

“Three years of relationship gone because of a single pair of shoes,” he continues. “She wanted those shoes, too.”

Kelly….what the fuck?

“But that's okay. She….She made me open my eyes, you know? She made me realize what I truly love.”

“Racing.” It's not even a question. It's the truth.

Max stares at you, long and hard, and you look away first because you fear that if you allow yourself to stare too long, you’ll drown in those beautiful blues. This is enough heartache for the day. No need to add more.

“Hey [Name],” he begins. “If I asked you to kiss me, would you do it?”

#manager!reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #f1 x reader #f1 imagines #formula one #fanfic #angst #mv1 #mv33 x reader #mv33

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97keanu · 7 months

Text

John Constantine x f!Reader

Premise: As Constantine's assistant, he tests your limits often. You know you're a smart, good girl. So when one wrong placed bet has you on your knees for Constantine as he enacts only your wildest fantasies, you don't know where you two stand anymore. You thought your little crush on him was buried deep, but it turns out you are willing to do much more than you ever want to admit. Tonight, he pushes you farther than you thought he ever would...

Tags/CW: MEAN!Constantine, bratty!reader, princess coded!reader, reader who thinks she's too good for you, leashed!reader, pet play, puppy!reader, bimbo-fied!reader, bdsm, age gap, p in v, f!reader, crybaby-ish!reader, crying kink, choking, AGGRESSIVE, oral (m receiving.), dub-ishcon, degradation, humiliation, praise kink, girl on top, raw, edging.

Be added to my tag lists here! Read more of my works here!

You knew making a bet with Constantine was never the right move. Your pride got ahead of you, trailing behind it your ego, and your intelligence, that you love to portray in yourself, nowhere to be found. You knew there was no way you would be able to figure out how to hunt a demon all by yourself, you should have never accepted a bet that if you did, Constantine would start treating your training seriously. Now, you've lost, and on top of it, you agreed to do whatever Constantine said from now on. And that does mean, whatever he says, you soon realize...

"I am not doing that, Constantine!" You stomp a chunky heeled foot and fold your arms, trying to look mean and serious the way he does, but failing.

"What's wrong, you're such a 'goody-two-shoes' that you can't have some fun every now and then?" He takes a long draw from his cigarette, he's so close you can smell the cologne mixed with smoke coming from him.

It was bitter and spicy, only the smallest hint of sweetness.

"Fun? You think leashing me is some sort of 'fun' for me?" You scoff and glare as he blows smoke into your face, batting it away with one hand.

"Yeah, it'll loosen you up a bit. Maybe you can turn that bright mind of yours off while I tug on your leash and make you sit pretty." He gives you a thump in your forehead when he mocks your smart tendencies, and you feel anger rising even more.

Your cheeks go red and you know you just look even more pathetic when you're mad at like this.

"I don't see how any of this has to do with learning to hunt demons or helping you." You scoff and turn your eyes from him, completely baffled by the whole idea.

"It might teach you that you can't just go off on your own trying to slay a demon before you're ready. It also might show you where you fit in all of this..." He teases you, pull a lock of your hair between two of his fingers.

"And where's that? Beneath you?" You say it with disdain, but the truth is that you wouldn't mind that so much. The heat between the two of you has been brewing since you started the job with him. It was only a matter of time...

"Lighten up, Princess. It's just my way of pay back for you losing the bet. Besides, I might even give you a treat if you're a good girl." He pulls your chin up, forcing your big doe eyes to look into his deep brown ones.

And that's how you ended up here. On your knees, a leather collar around your dainty little neck, looking up at Constantine as he tugs you towards him. You can't believe you've been brought so low. You started this job because you thought you had the smarts and academic research to help aid in finding demons. Now you're looking up at your own personal demon.

"Crawl." Constantine commands, and pulls on your leash, forcing you to follow if you don't want to be choked.

You feel so humilated. Your cheeks heat to a level that you didn't think possible, and your lip quivers as you try to force down your sudden feelings of inadequacy. Constantine is not stopping until you really know your place.

"Sit." He finally says once he's dragged you to the bedroom, yanking on your chain when you don't do so fast enough.

You feel tears welling up, and soon enough, you know it's not just because of how embarrassed you feel about the situation. Instead, you feel yourself beginning to like being commanded as such. Deny it all you want as tears roll down your cheeks, but you like giving up all the control you fight for.

"Don't cry," Constantine laughs at you, his cruelty knowing no bounds. "You don't know how much more it turns me on to see you cry..."

"You're sick..." You whisper and look at the ground, but Constantine's yank of your leash stops you from looking away.

"Don't act like you're not enjoying this, Princess. I can see it in your eyes." You gaze at him and hate how easily your rising arousal is seen.

Constantine sits on the bed, watching as you sit on your knees before him. The hard wood floors are leaving your knees aching already, and somehow that pain is sending heat between your legs in waves.

"I want you to undress." Constantine commands you.

You want to resist. You know resisting is almost as bad as admitting defeat, however. And since you've already lost once, getting you into this situation, you feel like the test is on now.

"This is completely ridiculous..." You grumble, your hands folding over your chest.

"Is it?" Constantine laughs while he looks down at you, cheeks hot and wet. "You're the one who agreed to let me test your limits however I desired. You knew what you might be getting yourself into. I'm sure you secretly hoped it would come to this."

His voice chides you like a child, making you feel even lower, and the worst part was, he was right. Fantasies of Constantine doing whatever he pleased with you had floated through your head when you agreed. You never thought it would involve treating you like a bad puppy, however.

"You're so cruel to me..." The last part comes out in a whisper as your arms move, lifting your shirt to reveal what you have on underneath.

"Interesting how such a prude as yourself has such sexy lingerie underneath..." Constantine's eyes eat you up.

He watches with hunger as you kneel there, your lacy, black bra the only thing that covers your chest, which is heaving with the nervous and aroused breaths you take.

"I..." You try to think of something smart-assed to say, but end up short.

The truth was, you started wearing such lacy and tempting things beneath your clothes soon after you started working for him. You know why.

You know that you wanted to be ready, just in case...

And now here you are, all blush and embarrassment, tear stained cheeks and anger for being brought to this, laid almost bare in front of him. This man you have claimed to his own face to dislike. You feel such a fool as yourself probably deserves to be treated as such as he pull your chain nearer to him.

"Don't be so pathetic, puppy..." He gives another yank. "I think you'll find if you're a good doggy for me I might just give you a treat."

You glare at him as you sit so perfectly between his legs. You can see the huge bulge pressed up against his black suit pants, and you shift your thighs uncomfortably as you realize how badly you want to take him into your mouth. When your big eyes look up at him, lashes batting and confused, Constantine smirks.

"You don't have to hold yourself back, go ahead, take it out." And despite yourself, your hands are moving to the zipper and buttons of his pants, so slowly.

You let Constantine's cock take over your view, flopping out of his pants and easily into your hands. You're tired of fighting it. The ache deep in your stomach and between your thighs has gotten too persistent to ignore, and now here you are, leashed and stroking your boss's cock.

You know how much he's enjoying this, beyond even just the pleasure you're feeding him right now with your hand. He likes this feeling of domination over you, likes seeing you finally let go. You can't help but feel like this is where he thinks you belong. Beneath him and doing what you're told.

"That's it..." He sighs, leaning his head back ad your hand warms his cock for him. Even just the smell of it from how close you are, is filling your pretty little head and driving you mad.

You bite your lip and look up to him, he's loosening his tie and pulls your leash again, leading you even further to do what he wants. Your mouth waters as you think about putting something as big as his cock in it. You don't even know if you could fit it all, to be honest...

You hear him let out a small moan, obviously not wanting to do so. And as he does, you realize he needs this, this release, just as much as you do. You may be the one leashed and collared, but he's the one who's needing his cock touched so badly right now.

You bring the tip to your pouty mouth, and Constantine's warm brown eyes look down at you. You look into them sweetly and tease him with your tongue. He seems to be responding well, until goes on too long, and he reached a hand up and takes it behind your head.

"I can't wait that long, puppy." His voice is filled with need, and as he pressed on the back of your head, you can't help but open up, taking his cock into your mouth.

What really surprised you was how deep he pushes you, taking in way more than you thought possible and still having more left over. You choke for a moment, and it's clear Constantine likes hearing it. He continues to bob your head for you, his grip tightening and getting rougher just to hear your muffled cries. You feel the tears welling up again, this time involuntarily, caused by how rough he's fucking your throat and face. You grip his thighs, hands against his pants, and look up at him like the pretty princess you are, being all used up by such a wicked man as him.

"God, you've got such a cute face when you take my cock like that..." He groans out, head falling back once more as he loses himself in you for a moment.

You feel how tight he has you pulled by your leash, and you know you couldn't stop if you wanted to. He has you so perfectly trapped right now, and somehow being so restrained makes your pussy even wetter. You had no idea you needed to be tamed like this.

Suddenly, he pulls your head violently from his cock, spit trailing and eyes blinking out a few more tears. You look up at him with your big wet puppy dog eyes, trying to catch your breath and stop from choking on your own spit that's accumulated.

"Alright, princess," he starts with a heavy breath of his own, pulling your lead and your hair as he moves you up on to the bed with him. "I want to see what else you can do."

Constantine perfectly places you on top of him, his cock underneath your pussy, your thin piece of underwear being the only thing stopping him from slipping inside of you.

He's kept most of his clothes on, and somehow it makes you feel even more degraded knowing that he doesn't even feel the need to get that naked and open to you. It feels quick, it feels easy, it feels like fucking a stranger in a seedy little hotel room. You adore it...

You don't even have to be told, your mind is taken over by your own needs, and you begin to rub your soaking pussy against his solid cock. Constantine smiles and seems to be praising you for your good slut abilities.

"Such a good whore for me..." He whispers, grabbing your hips and rocking you into him in just the right way.

You're so much smaller on his frame as you needily grind yourself into him. He seems so much bigger, and the fact that he's so much older than you, so much more mature, adds to the fact that you feel humiliated and used by him. You're sure he feels the same, and enjoys seeing your young little body using herself up on his cock. You can tell by the way he's looking at you right now, like a hungry wolf waiting for the perfect moment to slaughter the poor little lamb.

"Move them to the side..." He says with a husky breath, not even trying to be kind or nice in asking.

"Y-yes..." You muster out, and reach down, moving your panties out of the way to expose your wet little slit.

Constantine easily lifts you up, and in one solid motion, not waiting to let you acclimatize to such a large cock. You cry out, loud and long, and he cuts it off with a quick pull of the collar, that choking feeling back and the pain and domination mixing with the pleasure of being so perfectly full. You let out a few choked noises as he grinds you in as deep as humanly possible.

Your mind reels from how much has been taken from you already tonight, and a small bit of fear settles in you as you wonder what you've gotten yourself into. How aggressive could he possibly be? You have no idea, but right now, despite being on top, you've never felt so inferior to Constantine, and with the way he's cruelly enjoying your pain, you shudder.

He only let's you remain still like this for a moment, obviously admiring his handy work on you. Soon enough, he's quickly lifted you again, and slammed himself back into you. You feel as if you may break into two, his cock splitting you so deeply. He continues this, hitting the deepest parts of you with such pleasurable pain that you pant out, breaths shaking and mixing with your cries. Your cheeks are stained with your mascara as more salty tears find their release and you begin to wonder where a fucking like this was all your life.

"I love seeing you so sloppy and your perfect little make up your work so hard on completely fucked like this." You hear Constantine say as he continues to use your body however he likes, fucking you harder and faster as he goes.

One of his hands finds your clit, rubbing circles that cause you to double over into him, your hands gripping his white button down and tie, face so close to his now.

"A good whore doesn't come out of the bedroom without a mess on her face." He whispers to you, so close now, he can see all the pain and desperation, all the need and pleasure on your face as your mind is completely fogged.

You keep letting him take you, slowly becoming more and more malleable in his hands, becoming a moaning little mess of a girl that is being fucked on his cock, making a mess of that as well as you get wetter and wetter, his hand bringing you closer with every stroke against your swollen and needy clit.

All you can do is close your eyes and lose yourself on him. You feel yourself edging closer and closer, and your lip trembles, your teeth finding it and biting to keep yourself from cumming to fast, but it's no use.

"F-fuck...I'm going to..." You can't stop the whisper that comes, and you begin to unwind.

You feel him stop suddenly, and then laugh.

"I'm not doing all the work, princess." He says, and leans back, putting both his hands behind his head, one still holding your leash of course.

"Wh-what?" You blink, breathing trying to regulate, looking up at him like a lost little puppy.

"That's right, I wanna see you work yourself on me. It's time you do some of the work if you want to cum, that is." His stupid, mean, cocky face tells you there's no getting out of this, but your lip pouts anyways.

"Hey! That's not fair, I was so close..." You see that it doesn't matter what you say, and his accompanying laugh doesn't make you feel much better anyways.

Your aching and throbbing cunt gets the better of the situation, and you put aside your stubborn nature for the prize of more friction.

You lean up, one hand out stretched as far as it goes, keeping your balance on Constantine's chest. Your hips rock, slowly, then picking up speed and losing awkwardness in favor of deeper thrusts of his cock into you. You begin to moan, finally finding the ultimate pleasure you were missing, free hand moving to your clit once more and giving the needed attention.

"Don't you dare cum without asking me, puppy." Constantine has sat up a bit, so he can pull you closer and say this while looking directly into your eyes. His intensity let's know their will be punishments if you don't do as he commands. You nod your head, willing to do anything right now.

You continue on, fucking yourself perfectly, and feeling your pussy tighten on it's own around him. He's harder than ever, his hips bucking into a bit despite saying you needed to get your own cum from his cock.

"I love seeing you work so hard for it." He whispers, his hand reaching out and wrapping around your neck, moving your head to keep eye contact despite wanting nothing more than to close your eyes and relish in the pleasure.

"Constantine, please, I need to cum..." You whisper out, eyes pleading and messy with running mascara.

"You'll have to do better than that. I need you to beg like the good dog you are." He responds with a wicked grin, eating up all of your desperation with glee.

"Oh god, please, I can't keep this up," you try to get out of it, but his grip on your throat tightens.

"I decide when you cum. Get that through your pretty little head, princess." He scoffs.

"Fine," you cry as he digs his cock deeper right where you need it.

"I'm begging you, please let me cum, I'll do anything, I'll say anything, just let me cum..." The words come out whiney, and breathy, and fast, need building beyond what you ever thought, your hand having to take breaks on your clit, knowing if you don't you'll fall over the edge.

"Anything?" Constantine replies, and you have a bad feeling about the look on his face.

"A-anything..." You whimper out, grinding relentlessly like the needy little bitch you are.

"Fine." he licks his teeth. "Bark like a dog for me, and I'll let you cum."

You look at him stunned for a moment, not wanting to do something so humiliating, cheeks burning hotter than they already are.

"You're kidding..." He stops fucking you and tightens his grip on your throat further, choking out the second word, he doesn't need to say that he's not.

You feel so close, and you need this so bad, but you have never felt so degraded...

Moments pass, and the loss of friction and the need for more builds.

You hold your breath, trying not even to breathe right now, trying not even to give him anything after he's taken so much from you tonight.

When you do breath, you feel utterly embarrassed about what comes out.

A whimper, then a bark. From the look on his face, you know it's not enough. You continue, your bark growing louder and louder until you're desperately crying it out. When you look back, he's laughing at you, and you feel like a school girl again, getting bullied. Somehow, that makes the need grow even more.

"Alright, alright," he says between laughs. "You can cum..."

And then, it's you that holds him down, your muscles tighten and Constantine let's you take him for the first time tonight however you want. You get the power right now, you've earned it after what he's put you through, and he freely let's you fuck him and use his cock however you need. And you do, and you feel yourself spilling, spilling, spilling...

You release on him, and he tells praises you as you do, your walls tightening and bringing him to his own release. You feel his cum, hot and sticky, filling you up more and more with every stroke.

"God, you're so pretty when you take what you want. What a pretty little puppy you are..." He breathes, keeping up with an endless amount of praise that you so desperately needed as you finish, coming down slowly from everything and finally resting, exhausted on his chest, cock still inside you, twitching.

You two say nothing for a long time, laying just like that, and to your surprise, sleep gets the better of you, and you find Constantine's arms wrapping around you to keep you from falling off his chest, and cock. You drift off to the most peaceful, dreamless sleep, you've had since starting this job. Maybe he was right. Maybe you did enjoy this more than you thought, but you'd never let him know that.

Taglist: @worldsgreatestsinner @discoscoob @nwheregirl @slutforsoldierboy @sughcashsaiki @sebastianstanisahotmf @iovesia @brooxie3

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#john constantine x reader #constantine x reader #constantine fanfic #constantine 2005 #my writing

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lovebotmo · 5 months

Text

like the movies

chapter four - the feathered visitor

series masterlist

pairing: theodore nott x reader

wc: 1675

author's note: so so grateful that you guys are enjoying the story so far!!! its been incredible to be inspired and motivated when it comes to writing. i appreciate those who let me know they want to be on the taglist - lmk if anyone else wants to be added!!!

also if i missed someone my apologies!!! first time putting a tag list together hehe

song inspiration: how sweet it is (to be loved by you) by marvin gaye

Clambering into the compartment containing your friends after separating from Theo, you are greeted with expectant silence. Ten eyes peer at you with varying emotions; curiosity, caution, surprise, excitement, and intrigue all seem to swim in the faces of your dear friends.

Slapping your hands onto your knees, you smile nervously at them. “Well, what is it?”

“Don’t keep us waiting!” urges Hannah, who’s practically vibrating with excitement. “What was that all about? Running after Nott of all people.”

Your brows furrow unconsciously, “What d’you mean?”

Ginny laughs at your apparent confusion. “Nuh uh, Y/n. We all saw you go after Nott, no need to be coy now.” She winks cheekily at you. “Are you two seeing each other?”

You sputter at her brashness, “Me and Theo? There’s—”

“It’s Theo now, is it?” Padma asks. “When did he become Theo, eh?” Padma nudges your shoulder with her own.

“Oh, shove it, Pads!” You could practically feel the red rising in your face and neck at the undivided attention now being paid to your very short, tiny, essentially minimal interaction with a male specimen. You felt like a research subject whenever your friends interrogated you like this. “I was just worried Theo was going to miss the train—a very normal thing to be worried about considering he’s my potion partner and I bloody well can’t use his brain if he’s stranded in Hogsmeade! Besides,” you said, pulling at the sleeves of your wooly sweater, “that fight between Malfoy and him looked downright awful.” At that, the girls abruptly halted their aggressive probing, uneasily remembering the spat that had taken place very publicly in The Three Broomsticks. All, except for Luna, who continued to peer at you with that typical all-knowing, dreamy look of hers that seemed to suggest she knew better.

As if there’s anything going on between Theo and me. I barely know the guy…or almost barely know him…kind of know him?

Shaking the disorganized thoughts from your head, you turned to the girls to continue the conversation that had abruptly stopped at the tavern. A train ride filled with trolley sweets, gossip, and uncontrollable laughter soon led to your arrival at Hogwarts, just in time for the evening meal.

Retiring to your room shortly after dinner, you found that your housemates’ beds were empty. You guess that they were likely meandering around the grounds before curfew. You savored the silence and stillness of the room. However, all too soon, it was interrupted by an odd sort of sound.

Clink.

At first you ignored it, thinking something had just shifted in your room.

Clink…Clink.

This time, your eyes swept across the room, searching for whatever could be causing that sound. It didn’t sound like a water drip, someone in heels, or even coins moving around in a coin purse.

Clinkclinkclinkclink!

As the sound increased in volume and frequency, you realized it was coming from the window of all places, even though you were elevated relatively high in the tower containing your bedchamber. That is to say, no person could have been outside your room without the aid of a broom or the flying charm. You cursed under your breathe that the window was glazed, meaning you couldn’t see what lay on the other side. Undergoing a momentary crisis of whether you should open the window, you decided in a split-second to just open it and hope for the best. However, you made sure to grab your wand.

Can’t be too careful now, can we, Y/n?

Your hand grasped at the brass handle, quickly swinging the frame open. An autumnal evening gust of wind greeted you, along with something else.

What the fuck.

Perching on your windowsill, was a quaint tawny owl peering at you rather oddly. The bird cocked its brown and white feathered head as you did the same.

What the devil is a bloody owl doing up here? “I don’t suppose you intended to come up here, did you?” Looking at the owl, you noticed it was clutching something in its claws, a small parcel of sorts. “Is that for me?”

As if answering, the owl flew past you and landed on your desk. Its head cocked once more as if wondering whether you were going to join it or not. Realizing you were standing dumbly in front of the window and letting all the warm air out, you shut it. You did not lock it, however, anticipating that your feathered friend would be departing shortly.

You joined the owl at your desk, sitting in your chair. You were now eye level with the mysterious bird, its dark eyes gazing into your own.

“May I?” you inquired, gesturing towards the little package in its clutches. The fowl relented, gently releasing it onto the wood of your desk. Before allowing yourself to rip into the bundle, you pulled out a small cannister of crickets you kept in one of your desk drawers for when you visited your own owl in the aviary. Lightly placing it in front of the owl, you allowed it to treat itself while opening the unknown gift.

Inside, you found a small package of caramel creams, just like those you had gifted to Mr. Flume a few short hours ago.

“How…?” You looked to the bird who was still pleasing itself with your offering of crickets.

You couldn’t begin to wonder at who would have known to gift you that particular candy, who would have noticed your quick interaction among the thick throng of students that had filled Honeydukes earlier. No one had stood out to you in the little time you had spent in the candy store, wholly preoccupied with your candy exchange.

Where could they have even bought it from? It’s not like Mr. Flume even stocks this specific sweet, no matter how much I may beg the man to.

“You must have been flying for ages to bring these to me, I reckon.”

“Hoot.”

Laughing at the short, clipped response of the owl, your eyes noticed a small piece of parchment paper within the parcel. Grasping and opening it quickly, your eyes were met with the same script you had seen on the previous note that had accompanied the moly bouquet currently residing on your nightstand. Once more, the note was succinct and saccharine.

Y/n,

Sweets for you, sweetheart.

Yours,

Teddy

“Seems your owner fancies me,” you said to the owl as you carefully refolded the note. “I don’t suppose you would be able to give me a clue as to who they are?”

“Hoot.”

Sighing, you replied, “Alright, alright. I won’t badger you for answers.” You rose from your chair, intending to allow the plumed messenger to return to the aviary. The bird flew from its perch on your desk to your shoulder, its head gently rubbing against your cheek. You smiled at the little show of affection. Once more, you opened your window, allowing your avian visitor to rejoin the skies. Looking back at the caramel creams and clutching the note to your chest, a warm feeling began to leak out of your heart. Whoever your admirer was, he was rather…sweet.

A few caramel creams later, you were sprawled on your bed and surrounded by your friends as you recounted the entire rendezvous with the tawny owl. You shared the sweets among your friends, but you kept the contents of the note to yourself. Your friends had already seen the first note and none of them had recognized the handwriting. There was no harm done, really.

Besides, you thought, it’s kind of nice to keep something between just me and this elusive ‘Teddy.’

“You didn’t recognize the owl, did you?” asked Ginny. “Godric knows everybody can tell when I’ve sent an owl. That bloody bird, Errol, is hard to miss.” She gives you a vexed look that makes you chuckle.

“No, it looked like any other owl I’d have seen in the aviary. Anyway, there are hundreds of owls here, they’re not exactly easy to differentiate.”

“Well,” Padma says, “at the very least, we know that your little admirer is a third year or older.”

Hannah’s face shows her confusion, “How do you figure?”

“They were in Honeydukes, weren’t they?” Padma shrugs, “Whoever he is, he has to be, at minimum, thirteen years old to go to Hogsmeade.”

Groaning, you flop back onto your bed, hands covering your face in dismay. “Blimey, I hadn’t even considered it might be someone younger than me. What if it is a third year? Fucking hell, I’ll never be able to live it down.”

Moving your hands from your face, Hermione smiles gently at you. “If it is a third year, which I seriously doubt, you’ll be gentle in letting them down. No big deal.”

“I’d be a laughingstock, ‘Mione,” you say grumpily.

“No, you won’t, Y/n,” replies Hannah. “Besides, it’s just the six of us that knows, right?”

“About that…” Ginny looks at you sheepishly. “I may or may not have possibly, accidentally let it slip when I was perhaps…potentially talking with Lavender…”

The redhead’s confession gets you to shoot up quickly from your horizontal position. “You did what?” You toss at a pillow at her, which, with her incredible athleticism, she easily intercepts. You frown. “Lavender is possibly the worst gossip I’ve ever met. I’d be surprised if Filch didn’t know about it.”

“It was an accident, promise!” Ginny exclaims, “Lavender asked if you were seeing anybody—I think she’s interested in Lee Jordan—so, I suppose she was trying to determine whether or not you were—”

“Ginny.”

“…Yes, Y/n?”

“I’m going to give you until the count of three.”

“Count of three—what for?”

“One.”

“Oh please, Y/n. I didn’t mean to—”

“Two.”

“For the love of Merlin—”

“Three.” At your last count, you sprint at the girl who starts to run from you as you chase her with your wand. She sharts to shriek with laughter, dashing as far from your incurrent wrath as possible.

“You’re going to get it, Weasley!”

taglist: @melllinaa, @randomgurl2326, @lovelyygirl8, @abaker74, @mypolicemanharryyy, @vanevafu, @laceandsuch, @agent-tempest, @themarauderswife7 & @adoraspace

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bts5sosempire · 1 year

Text

the tyrant (viii)

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sukuna ryomen x reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 5,852 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: old time period, mention of arranged marriage, polygamous marriages, slow-burn yandere, power imbalances, peer pressure, mentions of infertility, etc. 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: "you were the apple of Sukuna’s eyes, the one who brought him solace and everything. The only thing you were incapable of was giving him a child, an heir he wished to spoil like he did to you." 𝐚/𝐧: I AM FINALLY DONE! Went pass the word limit istg. But hope y'all are ready what y/n is planning. 👀 btw, please like ❤️, comment in the "comment" section 📝 for tagging, and reblog 🔄 if you wish. Forgot I edited some parts in different chaps too, so if you see minor changes in them then I was fixing them.

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Another few more months with the year ending, and another would mark the end of five years. Despite being bedridden, it had made you uneasy since spending the luxury time doing nothing had made you naught. Yumi and the personal servants who you had personally hired for your inner circle inside the castle had been keeping you posted up about your businesses from the outside. Everything was going well.

Holding the reports over the fire, it lights up when the corner catches, "I'm gonna leave for a bit." You told Yumi, who was alarmed by you.

They started to panic, "You already received your reports saying all is well; you shouldn't move around a lot." Yumi tried to sway your mind, but you had already stood up from your bed and in front of your long mirror.

With your arms stretched out, the personal servants you hired from the outside who knew about your secret come to your aid. They swiftly took off your attire and replaced it with your pseudo outfit. You rarely snuck out, but today you feel rebellious. Staying in bed may get you sick in staying in bed.

You turn around to grab Yumi by the arms and put her in your futon, "Stay here and be good." With a soft smile, you open the door and poke your head out and look around for a particular male valet. Outside, your room was quiet; everyone was prepping for dinner now and cleaning the dining area to feast later. "Where are they?" And right on cue, their eyes met yours when appearing from a corner, and they understood immediately when you nodded at them.

With the quick perception of their view, their feet race towards you. "Everyone is busy; it should take about two hours at most." They informed you with a bow, their gaze not meeting yours.

"Good," coming out of your room, your feet glide across the polished wooden boards as they tail closely behind you. Behind every castle are secret walls; you happened to know it by accident during your research days as becoming Seijuro Hajime. It somehow comes in handy now.

After making swift turns around the halls, you stop right in the middle of a wall that is made of a stack of jagged stone slabs building on top of another; its color that was once in the shade of grey birch is now darkened with tints of green. Its gap of lines was filled with green and yellow moss and heavy, unruly vibes hanging from above. The area you'll frequent quite a lot is an abandoned wing rumored to be a gorgeous garden but is now defiled by aging neglect. The large pond that was filled with colors of Koi fish is now empty with weeds and putrid water that is left behind by the rain. Chip redwoods of a bridge leading to a roofless gazebo that represents the heart and main attraction of the pond. Overall, everything is in bad condition.

Your fingers smoothly ran along every crevice and protruding bump of each slab, and it wasn't until you reached the smaller rock with a small mark that could go unnoticed under the human eyes if no one was paying attention to it. Faintly remembering the details at the back of your head, you push the rock, which caves into your strength.

There was a low rumble from within the walls, and debris fell from above the shaking forces. The wall split into two, and faint mechanic whirring gears could be heard. Torches mounted on the wall spring into life as each illuminates the dark long descending stairs ahead of you. Red wooden beams were worn for ages, also holding the tunnel. A faint smell of wet, sticky residue lingers in the air.

Well, that's ominous. You turn around to face the valet, and they bid you a half farewell, "Stay safe." Nodding at them, they press another adjacent block to the opening block, and the doors come sliding close.

You descend the stairs and follow one pathway until you reach the middle, where it diverges to three; if you remember, you should take the one on the right. It also says in the blueprint that there is a trigger for activating traps; right in the center is a hanging bell above. If the bell is cut loose, all the mechanisms within the walls will run. You eye the old rusted bell that is darkened with a barely color of copper resembling it.

"Did you miss me?" Someone throws themselves and wraps their arms around your neck behind you. You place a hand on top of the table to save yourself from toppling forward face-first into the food. The cup of warm tea of amber liquid spilled over your nimble fingers. Their scent entered your nose, and it was the same person you bumped into before. "You know you're very hard to find; I scoured the whole city." Sliding their arms around, that now occupied your arm, they sat beside you as if they were your lover.

Personal space for you is also gone.

You patiently set the cup down and grabbed the rag near the portable stove that warmed the teapot. Wiping away the spilled remnant, you inch away from the clingy woman by loosening your arm, but she only tightens it with a pout. For some reason, you don't think you understand the choice a young woman like her makes to try to be cute to get their way. I mean, you're a woman. That's why you're probably immune to it.

In the first place, you only came out here to be a spectator since, within your report, there should be two high clans born male heirs trekking through the city that Sukuna rules from Yuichi. But you doubt you can complete your task today if you don't do anything.

"It's rude not to look at the person talking to you. Do you know who I am?" They tugged your arm. "My older cousin runs this city, and I could have your head, too, you know?" It looks like it will be hard to get your attention, "My cousin is Sukuna Ryomen."

Upon hearing his name, you tried to remain indifferent, but you only let out a small huff of a laugh. 'This should be interesting to pass the time.' The woman thought throwing her cousin's name around would add weight and make her cave in, but it seemed to be doing the opposite effect. Without her knowing, you decided to amp up a charming facade. "The Sukuna Ryomen?" You turn your head to face her, and the coy smile that split across your lips made the woman frown. Why aren't you scared of her? "Do you know," you stare into those pomegranate eyes that share the same color as Sukuna, "throwing your cousin's name around isn't safe too? You're making yourself a target for-" your eyes roam around the room. A few people were looking your way, and the woman noticed it too and flushed red, "-those to take advantage of."

"If only you looked at me when I asked!" Kiriko fumbles out an excuse, and her face becomes hotter and red.

This makes you decide to toy with the woman. Since she has a relation to your supposed husband, it would be easy to probably get the information right if you knew how to ask. Although you think you wouldn't be able to, it's not hard for you to play around with her. "From what I heard, he isn't a good man."

"What do you know about him?" She bites back.

"He plays favorites with certain people, and there's this special wife he's rather fond of." You quip to get a reaction from her, and it seems to hit the mark. "I saw her a few times, and she's lovely that many of these city and village folks adore her. Got to say she's a woman after my own heart if she wasn't married."

"You shouldn't like her!" Kiriko jealousy spouted, and with a tug of your arm towards her, you thought she might yank it off its socket. "She might be pretending to be nice to make people like her! You should like someone genuine like me!" She declared, and this made you snort another laugh. A woman jumping the horse, it seems. You don't know what she has heard about you, but it is pretty amusing. "What? You don't believe me?" Now she sounds offended.

"It's not that I don't believe you," wanting to tease her more, you swoop in closer to her, "but I don't believe in tarnishing another person just on baseless rumors or what they have or heard against her." Kiriko shrinks back from the sudden closeness. She was quiet, and then you turned your attention away from her. "Sir," you raise a hand to pay for your tab. Once they're near, you drop the payment into their outstretched hands.

Sliding your arm out of their hold, you lighten up your pace with the woman chasing after you. "Wait!" They shouted after you, and you made eye contact with a nearby seller who understood what you indicated. The seller grabbed a bucket of water and poured it onto the ground right after Kiriko was close enough to be after you. Kiriko shrieks out when the lower half of her attire is wet. "Watch where you throw that dirty water, you peasant!"

"Ah, I'm sorry, Miss." They awkwardly apologize.

Kiriko bites the bottom of her lip and looks at your back; you don't even turn around to check if she's alright. She watches your figure disappear into the heads of an endless crowd with a little bit of resentment. She'll make you look her way no matter what since she wants to take you back to her homeland as a spouse by the end of her stay, even if it's by force.

[at a random inn]

"So what's the deal?" You suddenly appeared by Yuichi's side, who got slightly spooked.

"You got to stop doing that," the man told you; he put a hand over his chest. You only laugh and cross your arms before looking below from the second floor. Yuichi saw you spectating two males who stood out like a sore thumb in the crowds of primary cotton colors clothing of grey, dark grey, and brown. "I thought you weren't going to come?"

"And miss this glorious sight?" You humor Yuichi but cut it short too. "I must return to the castle soon, or my covers blow. So who are they?" Motioning the two rich strangers talking lowly to one another, Yuichi tilts his head slightly toward you.

"The one in deep indigo is Totsuwa Iriyu; from my sources that I have people gathered around, his family used to serve the Emperor before they fell from grace. The funny thing is your husband was involved with their family, and there were speculations that he took them off from the Inner Circle of the Emperor Hoshu." Yuichi explains, and you thought that might be something Sukuna would do. "And the one in dark green is Mugetsu Rintoru, and he's that buddy, in the deep indigo best friend too. He also has a problem with your husband too."

"Everybody seems to have problems with Sukuna; I'm unsurprised." Amusement dances across your lips, "How long are they planning to stay?"

"Approximately up to three weeks since they did get an invitation from Sukuna." Now that made you raise an eyebrow.

"Guess invitation isn't what is going in their mind too; nobody comes here in Sukuna's land with no pure thoughts since he is the most sought after when it comes to wealth. And revenge." You then un-latch your arms and pat Yuichi's biceps. "I'll approach them in my time, but keep an eye on them."

Your servants all scamper away when Sukuna walks through the hall; they all refuse to look up but still greet him in acknowledgment. But the one that felt like they were getting a heart attack was the one who was your spies. Sukuna had come to pick you up for dinner quite early. They all gave each a look to see who would intercept him. There was a back-and-forth motion of 'No, you' between the servants. But it wasn't until Sukuna positioned himself in front of them they all hesitantly looked up.

"L-Lord Sukuna, Lady (Name) is still resting." One squeaks out in fear; despite being hired by you, they still fear Sukuna.

"Move aside," he commanded.

"She wishes not to be disturbed, My Lord." The same person quickly interjected.

Sukuna clicked his tongue, "Do you wish to die?" He glowers down at them, and they all shrink back. "Now. Move. Aside." Sukuna said each word with heavy and daunting syllables, and the servants sidestepped demurringly. If their heart could leap out of their chest, this would be the best time.

Before Sukuna could open the door, it slid open, and there was you. "What's with all this commotion?" You don't need to look at your servants who tried to stop Sukuna lets out breaths of relief. Sukuna peaks over your head and sees books lying on your table.

Sukuna: "Thought you were resting, no?"

You: "I did; I woke up a while ago."

Without further ado, you try to bypass Sukuna, but he takes good of your hand. You wanted to rip it from his hold without causing much fuss, but he tightened his grip. "You seem well enough now; your colors are back." He took steps with you side by side.

"You are already starting to make me sick," exasperation released from your voice when you tugged your hand again, and Sukuna tutted at you.

"There's that tone that I've missed," he purrs, and if he's successfully getting under your nerves, he's doing a great job. You were clenching your jaws. "I've got something to show you after dining too." From his tone, Sukuna was rather excited; it was only a slight pitch lighter.

[excution field]

A heavy fur coat was draped around your shoulders. You don't understand why he brought you here right after eating. Most of all, the execution ground. You got a hand to cover the smell. Sukuna leans heavily behind you with his arms encasing you; somehow, this feels familiar, like that one day. Once again, you attempted to shrug him off, but it always made him want to be closer to you.

There was fresh blood over the dried blood; even the stench of death couldn't be erased from this place. You never really visited the site; this was the first time in five years you had set foot on the ground where innocent sinners came to die by Sukuna's final resolution. "I like you to be the first to witness something that could lead me to more winning conquest." He said, leaning his head low and letting his lips touch your ears; Sukuna's breath fans over one side of your face. You silently tilt your head to look up at him; questions linger in your eyes.

Sukuna was jittering in excitement, and this was something. You rarely see him like this; he can be proud and loud within his moments. This is something new. He's barely contained.

Sukuna lets himself be away from you, which makes you inwardly happy. "Bring it out!"

It didn't take two frightening retainers to bring out a wooden craftsman box. Sukuna flipped the lid open, and inside, it was presented to be some long metal rod with wood attachments. You were observing not too far away from Sukuna. Sukuna lifts it out of its case and settles an aim. "Get the prisoners too." You recognize that black powder from anywhere when Sukuna pops the lid open and pours it into the opening of the barrel. Then he used a rod to push the powder more profoundly into the narrow tunnel before setting the breech on fire.

"What are you doing?" You ask him; somehow, dread-filled your chest when you saw three people lined up and tied to a thick wooden pool. You can hear their whimpers from where you're at.

"You'll see," was all he said; Sukuna leveled the weapon up and above over his shoulder as he aimed again, then pulled the trigger with a steady finger.

BANG!

The sound made you jump; you instinctively covered your ears in fright with your heart hammering, as did the people far and near to witness. Smoke came from the weapon, but it was pushed away and dissipated into the atmosphere by the wind. What you were looking at wasn't the weapon itself but the person tied to the wooden stake. Their head was blown clean right off, just from this distance where Sukuna stands.

Is this what he wanted to show you? The future? How it's going to be in his hand?

"Did I spook you? Sorry," Sukuna carefully put the weapon back into its case and walked toward you; he took your hands from your ears and slotted them into his own. Your eyes wouldn't move away from the headless corpse; it was stuck wide open, witnessing the scene. It wasn't until you blinked again and pulled your hands back from his hold then your curiosity overtook.

You: "What did you do to them?"

Sukuna: "It's obvious what I did, didn't it?"

You: "Yes, you did. I'm asking what kind of weapon was that."

Sukuna glances over his shoulder before covering the view by stepping to the side when you try to take another look. "I must admit, the Portuguese did come with something this time. It's a Matchlock rifle. It's one of the prototypes, not permanent yet."

"A rifle? You can kill someone from this distance?" Your furrowed brows and contorted face of confusion almost make Sukuna lose composure. This is undoubtedly the first time in a while that you have been interested in something and was willing to talk with him, without sassing back, of course.

"Even further, too," Sukuna confirm. "But like I said, this is just a prototype, not yet decided. I want to talk to the Portuguese and have a room ready for one of their men to stay behind and modify the rifle with me."

You: "Why modify it when it's already deadly enough as it is?"

Sukuna: "Not deadly enough to my liking."

You were back to your room and became a sitting duck again. 'If Sukuna could get that weapon, then we're screwed.' When evolution for weapons couldn't get any better or worse, you almost felt worried. Sukuna would indeed be able to conquer land much more and faster, but with that rate, even the death of others he's going to take isn't going to remain stagnant anymore.

More bloodshed and the lives of others will continue to bleed over this land of Japan.

"Get this letter to Yuichi as fast as possible tomorrow during your shift outside; we need information." You fold the letter with deft hands and give it to a male retainer. "Be careful."

"Lady (Name), you have a gift from Sultana Aida." Yumi hands you a box, and it is wrapped neatly. "It was sent earlier when you were in the...field."

You took the box and unwrapped the red sash around it. Sultana Aida has sent you self-care items, especially body oil, and cream. The scent was sweet and fresh, not overpowering enough to give you a headache. The oil inside the clear bottle was in a rich hue of gold, and the body cream was sealed tightly in a jar too. Sultana Aida had a penchant for making perfume and women's essential needs. You met them over a year ago during a foreign meeting.

"Send a gift back to her." You told Yumi, who nodded and went outside to where there is a room where you store all your possession and gifts.

[night time]

There was a fluid snap of your doors being open and closed; the person who always comes into your room as they please is Sukuna himself. Through the bronze mirror, you could see Sukuna in his loose attire, which exposed the skin of his partial chest once he was close enough to where the lantern light could reach. You applied the body cream you received today to your neck before Sukuna settled himself behind you and wrapped an arm around your waist and chin upon your shoulder.

You froze for a quick second. Sukuna closes his eyes in bliss to take in the scent. "This smells nice." Even if he notices your discomfort, he doesn't care at the moment, not right now. He nuzzles his nose closer until it presses against your neck, and the warm breath of his seeps through your skin and into the thinness of your night clothes. You close the lid over your body cream and set it aside.

"What do you want?" Your eyes remain on the mirror, which shows how relaxed Sukuna is; he got you in between his legs as they were propped up to where his knees were bending. There was a deep inhale from him.

"I can't even be here in my own home?" He inquired, "I'm here to spend the night with you." That made you decisively rip his arm off around your waist.

"No, you're not," you shot back and marched away from him to create a distance. "You have plenty of women in your harem who wanted to spend time with you," on the other side of the room, you defiantly look at the man, who gives you a lop side grin.

"I'm not bedding you, not right now." Sukuna restates your thoughts, "Just sleeping side by side." Your face was stoned, but it was enough for Sukuna to tell that you didn't believe him when your brows twitched. There was a 'huh' from you, and you were gunning for the door, and in a flash, Sukuna had you in his embrace again. Another momentarily struggle from you when you start to kick and tell him repeatedly to let you go. "Don't," he whispered huskily into your ear, "I won't do anything, I promise." The man carried you by the waist with both arms and settled down with you in a slump onto the large futon.

Sukuna loosened his arms, and you slithered away to the other side of the bed and got under the cover with your back turned to him. He wanted to push the boundaries, but he wouldn't. Getting under the surface, too, he remains still watching the slope of your curves highlighted by the sheet and your back rising and falling. Sukuna gathered your hair that was pools around the gap in between you both and played with the ends; he let them loop around his forefinger before running a thumb over the silk feeling of it. He then brings the strands to his lips and kisses them to bid good night to you.

Then the light went out.

You roll over in bed and bring the blanket under your chin to snuggle in deeper. But why did something feel heavy around you? There was difficulty opening your eyes, and when you did, sleep didn't completely fade away as drowsiness was still evident. If it weren't for the hand patting your back to lull you back to sleep, then you would've done so. "Go back to sleep." With a heavy grave tone that slinks into one of your senses, the haze of sleep washes away. Angling your head up, you see the fondness in Sukuna's eye and push him away in shock with an 'ack,' and Sukuna only rolls onto his back in bed. The man almost laughs at your reaction. Quickly sitting up in bed, you didn't realize how bright the room was when your face was scrunched up and brought the bed sheet up to your chest. Even outside was quiet.

Sukuna almost forgot you make so many faces during sleep and even when you wake up, although not this much. There was a yawn from you as you covered it with both hands, then you swept your hands through your hair. "It's almost near ten if you're wondering." He repositioned himself again on the futon, laying on his side with one leg propped up while he used one hand to support his head under his chin.

"Get out," voice groggy; you stood up from the bed to prepare for the day, but Sukuna reached across the bed and brought you back down.

"You should sleep in more; you look adorable when sleeping." Sukuna teases you, and by instinct, you try to tear your wrist away, but this further fuels him to bring you into his arms and lock you up. Cradling you, he brushes a few strays of hair out. The push and pull you both had is almost desirable to other women in the harem. Sukuna in the morning looks different, nearly too humane for your liking. When he brushes the hair aside, he lingers his hand on the apple of your cheek and brings his lips to kiss the top of your head. Your reaction was like a cat sprayed with water, always struggling. "I almost forgot; good morning to you too." The body scent you had acquired sticks to you so well that it is only what pheromones entirely throughout the night. Maybe this is the scent he likes, besides your natural scent.

"I took some time off from my affairs and decided to tend to you." If you look offended, you do indeed; anything he does for you sounds like an offense. The foreign topic of him trying to soften you up always seems helpless, but Sukuna has time to try everything; a man like him is never out of ideas.

"I don't need you to," glaring at Sukuna, his smiles widened even more, and you took the liberty to push his face away when he closed up again with your other free hand.

[afternoon]

He was serious when he said he wouldn't leave you alone. You wanted to be by yourself, but he made it difficult. Not only had he dismissed everyone who served under you and told them that their service wasn't needed for the day, but he was also hand-hogging you.

Sukuna grabs your hand, and you forcefully pull it away; he does it again, and you repeat it. This childish play continues until he grasps it tightly, forcing you to walk side by side. "Let go." You wiggle your hand, trying not to lose composure, and Sukuna swiftly plays with your fingers and separates them from interlocking his with yours to tighten the hold.

"No," that one-word answer from him had you wish you could disappear into the air magically. "I made a promise, and I intended to keep it." Sukuna brings you even closer as you bump into his arm.

You both were walking to nowhere, only letting your feet guide you and him around the fortress ground. It wasn't until Asuna's head appeared in your view that Danzo's tugged his mother's hand to tell his mother he wanted to visit you quickly.

"Danzo?" You call from a few feet away, and the little boy brightens. He lets go of Asuna's hand and runs toward you at full speed, and knocks himself into your legs. Danzo smiles happily at you, and you use your free hand to pat the boy's head. Asuna greeted you and Sukuna while lingering where she stood. Her eyes trail to your and Sukuna's hands which are interlocked tightly. As a spectator, the scene ahead of her almost makes it seems like a perfect family of three should be if Danzo were yours, even though you were awkward in showing affection to Danzo in front of Sukuna. She kept seeing you side-eying the taller man, who was observing every millimeter of interaction. Asuna's son was very fond of you during the first meeting, even if he had misunderstood you for being a character from a book. Although you don't mind interpretation, you were rather genuine in your exchange with Danzo.

"Have you been good?" You readjust the multiple layers of collars of Danzo's clothing, fixing any creases. Danzo nodded rapidly with a hum.

"Use your mouth," Sukuna spoke up, and you again side-eye him. Danzo's little body tensed up at the sound of his father. You pretended to wiggle your hand in Sukuna's and elbow his side purposely, and he saw a subtle disapproving eye and a frown from you. You were peeved with his tendencies. Why be a grown man picking on a child, especially his own? Even his half-brother was treated almost the same.

Before you can open your mouth to comfort the child, multiple voices enter the yard. Out and emerge from the corner is Eisha with her daughter and Sena accompanying the crown matriarch along with a few minor concubines. Everyone was locking eyes with each other and stopped their idling talking. Eisha (along with Sena) picked up on how close you were to Sukuna, and a knot formed in her chest when the apparent physical contact of hand-holding was the first thing she saw. A tight-lipped wry gambol set on her lips as she greeted Sukuna and ushered her daughter, Eri, to do the same, so the rest followed suit. But her eyes flickered to Danzo's last second; he was also close. Eisha knew that Asuna's son wasn't a thought in Sukuna's mind as he was just one of the many children he sired. Still, it tickles her interest why he was so close when her daughter wasn't granted the same physical closeness but a mere glance.

"Greetings Lord Sukuna/ Father." Then the rest greeted you, besides Eisha, due to ranking. You give the rest acknowledgment with a thin nod and adequately greet Eisha only. "What brings you all out here, Lord Sukuna?" She inquires with pique curio sitting at the back of her mind.

"Thought it would do Lady (Name) good for some fresh air." Then Sukuna turns the question to Eisha, "And what are you doing out here? You are frail and susceptible to the cold, which could worsen your health."

"I'm glad that you ask Lord Sukuna," she then pulls Eri forward in front of her by the hand gently. Almost as if she wants Sukuna to acknowledge the child. "I came out here with Eri for a walk after her studies." There was only a flat 'oh' from Sukuna, and from how he sounded, it lacked interest. Even Sena picks up on the tone, and that pricks a nerve. If Sukuna doesn't even care about her two previous children, then why would he care about Eri at all? Even in your presence, he doesn't seem to show filial affection towards them.

"I see; carry on with your walk then." Sukuna quickly dismissed them, but Eisha wasn't willing to let go.

"If I could, would Your Lordship, Lady (Name), and Concubine Asuna allow us to join your route?" Eisha wouldn't allow you and Asuna to be alone with Sukuna. And behind her back, she made a hand sign which the lower-ranking concubines understood and made a quick excuse to leave the yard. So now that only leaves her, Eri, and Sena. What Eisha did, didn't escape Sukuna's vision; that only made him take a deep and intolerable sigh inwardly.

All he asked for was one day with you without interruption.

For Asuna, she thought this timing couldn't be any worse with the visible tension brewing. She could tell that Sukuna's mood had floundered a bit since, after all, he was only out here to be with you. Then she focused on you, which she could say for once; your mood seemed to be in sync with Sukuna, although you wanted to get rid of him.

Two weeks later, two figures on separate horses rode up and stopped by the entrance.

"So this is Sukuna's mighty castle, huh?" Mugetsu's keen eyes search every nook and cranny of the building to see how well the fortress is built. Then there's Totsuwa, who already feels the regret setting in. He only accepted the invitation out of sheer impulsiveness and hatred for the pink hair man, and now the feelings somehow dissolved once he made it to Sukuna's Hell doorstep. It was easy for Totsuwa to imagine himself slaying the demon and reclaiming all his honor, power, and glory that Sukuna had muddled; he even talks significantly about it in his drunken stupor at an inn a week back.

"Don't be a chicken now, Iriyu," Mugetsu teases his best friend, "we might be able to learn more about our enemy." Somehow that doesn't sound comforting to Totsuwa, even when their tone is meant to lighten him up.

Getting off their horses, they handed the reins to a stable boy and looked for someone with deep pink and white hair. It wasn't hard to spot them when they were wearing their white garment. "Hello, Lord Mugetsu and Lord Totsuwa; I am Uraume, Lord Sukuna's retainer." They greet the two men with a proper bow, "If you would please follow me, I'll guide you two."

Mugetsu tapped Totsuwa's arm a few times, "They look pretty," he whispered, eyeing Uraume's back, "if only I wasn't married and they weren't your buddy's retainer, then I would've gotten them."

"Please, for the love of God, shut up!" Totsuwa whispers right back to his friend. "You always say that to every pretty woman you walk by!"

Mugetsu: "I can't help it, though."

[sukuna's office]

"Whoa..." Surprise color Mugetsu and Totsuwa when they saw not just the room but you seated a foot away from Sukuna. Rumors about the favorite wife do hold.

"Stop ogling at my wife," the pink-haired man snapped, brows drawn together into a scowl with the corner of his lip quirking up, and a tongue click could be heard. Sukuna wasn't sure why you insisted on being here; he would let you join any other meetings, but why this one? He doesn't know. There was a smidge of hesitation presenting at the back of his mind even though he tried to push it away logically; it always came back up. However, Sukuna wouldn't let it show. During the last two weeks, you and he had an on-and-off time together, the same usual push and pull. Still, you somehow had inserted yourself into his schedule willingly today with the promise of being interested in politics.

Sukuna had warned you it would be boring to dissuade you from this meeting, but you brought up a point, "You were the one who allowed me to visit your meetings, but now you won't let me?" Point taken, and now here you are. In the logical aspect, this allows Sukuna to spend time with you. Albeit not the way how he wanted it. But he couldn't brush away the nagging thought that it didn't feel right for you to be here.

Taglist: @sukunasobject @lilliansstuff @lucyrocks86 @ladywolf44005 @watyousayin @sandronebabyy @pinkrose1422 @skepticalleo @please-help-therapy-needed @whatsonthemirror @krispsprite @loser-alert @saturnknows @samdric @littlemochi @akigoat @mxghostbee @rose4958 @shadowywizardarcade @huicitawrites @baji-keisukes-wife @choso-wifey @jovialeggsbailiffsoul @sanderaen @peonnnny @tiredlattes @waytomanyhusbands @whatamidoing89 @utena-akashiya @outrofenty @welcometodemonschoolfan @im-a-killer-queen @loverisa @bubera974 @sashaphantomhive @chaoticstrawberryland @onetwo123three @sxftiebee @bbrrose @gretel-gravain @slasherflickchick @floraroselaughter @kikis-art @21yumna @lifegosoana @sob4 @unknown-204 @dathoe @dellalyra @noot-noot-noooooooot @goldenglow149 @sukunabitch @guccirosegold @aesthetic-faye @kakeruko14 @roseki @levisbadbitch @divxnee @dvmekarina

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destieltropecollection · 13 days

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Destiel Trope Collection 2024 | Day 25: Firsts

Liar | @ididitallofitforyou Rating: General Word Count: 1,006 Main Tags/Warnings: Established Relationship Summary: Cas is acting shifty. Dean doesn't know what's up, but he's going to make sure they talk about it, because that's what they do now.

Stuck in the Liminal | @bookwithwings Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,463 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Meeting, Established Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester, Past Lisa Braeden/Dean Winchester Summary: Dean has been out of the dating game for a while. Sam thinks it's time for him to get back into it. And who knows who he'll meet once he gives it a try.

Sam's annoying coworker | @silver-stake-through-the-heart Rating: Mature Word Count: 3,079 Main Tags/Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Lawyer Sam Winchester, Lawyer Castiel (Supernatural), Castiel and Sam Winchester are NOT friends, Lust at First Sight, Implied/Referenced Sex Summary: His brother is glaring daggers at him. Dean shrugs. How he should be reacting to this sex god? Only Sam, the straightest person he ever met, can remain unmoved to that. Dean eyerolls and reaches his glass of wine. He brings it to his lips... Sam schools his features in something colder. He nods curtly. "Maître Novak, you are late." ...and Dean nearly chokes. He coughs and looks back at the guy. Nope. Still the hottest man ever. Dean looks back at Sam. "That's Novak?" OR: How Sam shouldn't have introduced his least liked coworker to his brother.

Finally getting a break | @doreamoncat Rating: General Word Count: 3,523 Main Tags/Warnings: Movie night, Light hurt/comfort, First kiss, Getting together, Human first aid, Angel healing, Hint of angst, Fluff Summary: Dean is injured on a hunt, and doesn't want Cas to heal him. So instead they plan an Indiana Jones marathon as a way to take their minds off it. But the movie unexpectedly gives them a way to act on their as-yet unspoken feelings for each other.

no shame in being a slut | @watchinghimrakeleaves Rating: Explicit Word Count: 5,200 Main Tags/Warnings: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, First Time, Dirty Talk, Season 4, Brief Dean Winchester/OFC Summary: Castiel drops by the motel Sam and Dean are staying at to pass along details of a case. He can't help but overhear Dean with a woman, which leads Cas to give voice some to some desires he's been having ever since he raised Dean from hell.

Kickback | @verobatto Rating: Explicit Word Count: 10,609 Main Tags/Warnings: College AU, bullying, character development, fights, enemies to lovers Summary: For one entire year, Dean Winchester passed by like a tornado in Castiel's school life. With blows and contempt towards him. However, the experience made Castiel change his perspective on the world and his desires in the least expected way. Castiel trained hard not to have to go through that again. Now that he's a strong and determined man, he wishes life were fair enough to allow him to take revenge on Dean. Fulfilling his wish, fate crosses the paths of Dean and Castiel once again. Will Castiel get his revenge? However, care must be taken with the kickback you may receive from your enemy...

Well, I Never Been To Heaven | @samanddean76 Rating: Mature Word Count: 23,654 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Season Four AU, Hurt Dean Winchester, Protective Castiel, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Love, Rescue, Research, Hurt Sam Winchester, Protective Gabriel, Mental Anguish, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Castiel and Dean Winchester Falling In Love, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have A Profound Bond, Constantine References, Angel Castiel, Dean Winchester Is Tortured In Hell, Dean Winchester's Soul, BAMF Castiel, Borrowed Grace, Hell Is Never Going To Be The Same, First Time, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Eventual Happy Ending Summary: Dean Winchester is living a plain, ordinary, and boring life. Until one day a new student shows up in the little town of Spain, SD. It’s love at first sight, but then an unimaginable tragedy happens, and Dean is left alone in his misery. Or is he a student attending Oxford University on a full athletic scholarship who finds a familiar face in his coxswain? Or is he hiking in the desert and attempting to save a known stranger? Or is he a traveler who stops for the night at a cheap motel and finds the pizza man of his dreams? Or is he none of those things? Just an unwitting victim of fate and destiny? Castiel had led the assault on hell, in order to save the righteous man and prevent the first seal of the apocalypse from being broken, lest hell should be allowed to reign on earth. In the aftermath of his disastrous mission, he is being held captive by Alastair, and his image is being used in a final, determined attempt to break Dean. But the profound bond that Castiel feels towards the pure soul won’t allow him to go down without a fight, and he makes a desperate prayer to his very old friend to set in motion a chain of events that might save him and his beloved mortal, or possibly, doom them for all eternity.

First | @friendofcarlotta Rating: Explicit Word Count: 25,968 Main Tags/Warnings: Novelist Castiel, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Divorced Dean Winchester, Rabbits, Crowley Is a Rabbit, Rabbit Dad Dean, Protective Siblings, Addiction, Cravings, Recovery, Getting Together, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Therapy Summary: Romance novelist Castiel Novak is recovering from an addiction to painkillers and he’s struggling to settle back into life post-rehab. His therapist suggests visiting a local farm where anyone can spend an hour or two in the calming company of rabbits. The farm’s owner, Dean, is himself a recovering alcoholic… and a huge fan of Castiel’s books. A story of recovery, romance and rabbits, told in a series of firsts.

#destiel trope collection #destiel trope collection 2024 #destiel #fanfic #supernatural #firsts

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pppeachyyys · 1 year

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'good for me' tighnari

you always saw something special in tighnari, which also meant you were willing to do anything for him. but what if your desires are reflected right back to you?

tags! praise, desk fucking, penetration, mutual pining, consensual, half clothed sex, self indulgent, my immature self ( i cant take this seriously 💀 ), female reader

tighnari scanned the papers with narrowed eyes, his mind taking in every word and data written onto the stack of research. you felt your heart beat nervously.

he smiled. “yep. these look good. thank you for always helping us out, y/n.”

you felt relief wash over your body as he organized the papers and placed them on his desk. “it’s really nothing, i’ll always be able to be at your assistance sir tighnari.” you said while returning his smile. his eyes soften. “i’m glad to hear that. you may go now.”

he watches as you left the hut, leaving just him and his thoughts; specifically, the image of your gentle smile followed by your sweet voice saying his name. it made him feel all giddy and sweet inside.

“tighnari…” the forest ranger mumbled out, playing your voice in his head like a broken record. his tail swished around in satisfaction.

i should continue offering these errands for her…

it was the third time tighnari has asked you to either run a personal request or pair up with him for patrols this week. you watched every step you took towards tighnaris hut with pots of various plants in your arms. you couldn’t help but wonder what caused him to always be searching for you throughout the day.

not that you really minded though. who wouldn’t resist being in the aid of the chief officer of the forest rangers ? he was truly everything good put into a single being. whether it was his intelligence or stern yet caring words that spoke out of his mouth, you always felt your admiration for him grow day by day.

perhaps something stronger than admiration was blooming as well.

as you knocked the door that led to his home, tighnari promptly opened it with his usual faint smile. you welcomed yourself in and sat on a chair next to him.

“you know y/n, you’re always doing such a great job with these requests. it’s truly a big help to have you here.” tighnari praised you diligently. he viewed the plants closely, his ears flickering in curiosity. you flushed at his compliment.

“once again, it’s my pleasure sir.”

“still, i’m very glad that you are able to volunteer your time for this. after all, you already work so hard as a member of the rangers.” he commented. you felt your cheeks growing hot, did you always feel this way when people praised you ?

you avert his gaze in hopes that it’ll make your anxiety leave. it simply continues to grow when he gently reaches over to remove something from your face with his gloved fingers.

“sorry- there was something on your face. it must’ve been from when you were outside.”

his touch made you feel so vulnerable, you realize. you can’t stop your heartbeat from running a literal marathon or the embarrassing feeling in between your legs.

the plants on the table are placed away to the side, and tighnari neatly shoved the papers away from your view. he seemed distracted, to your relief; just when you thought you were able to hide your nervousness from tighnari, he looks at you with a smile.

“did you know that most breeds of foxes can hear from 100 feet away ? which means that also applies to me, a human hybrid of a fennec fox. we also have heightened sense of smell-”

there was surely no way tighnari was lecturing you about his own breed while you sat there practically begging him to touch you. he continued his rant, but you were unable to focus. just as you were beginning to space out, tighnari leans closer to whisper something into your ear.

“which means i can hear your heart beating excessively fast right now…” he mumbles. “... and your scent is all that's filling my brain…”

you swear you're an embarrassed mess by now, his words going straight from your head to your stomach. you gently push him away in fear that you won’t hold yourself back any longer. “sir- you’re teasing me too much.”

“just call me tighnari from now.”

he’s gentle, but the starved glint glazing his eyes tell you otherwise. his fingers reached to tuck a strand of h/c hair to the back of your ear and he’s inching closer, his hot breath against the nape of your neck.

it was a blessing nobody was watching the scene unfold. the chief of the forest rangers, making such arousing actions towards their own pupil. anticipation is bubbling to the very tip of your chest.

“be obedient and listen to me, will you ?” he asks smoothly and you nod a little too quick for your own liking. he gestures you to get up, making you face the table. “are you sure you’re okay with this ?”

“yeah.” you heave out. that’s all the more tighnari needs to place one hand on your hips and the other on your back. he gently pushes you down to the table.

“then allow me…”

you were pressed against the desk, your back facing tighnari. his hands went up and down your clothed back before reaching over to undo your pants, playing with the hem of your underwear. you could feel a hard buldge pressing against the thin fabric that was starting to dampen.

as he started to suckle on your neck and you unconsciously began to grind your hips against his boner. his sharp canines dug into your skin, eliciting a small whine from your lips.

this felt all too real. your hot boss bending you over while you shamelessly rut yourself into him like it’s the best opportunity ever given to you. he’s growling back sinful moans, attempting to control himself.

“i’ve been watching you, and you’re always doing such a good job for me.” tighnari whispers into your ear. he quickly removes his gloves, fingers slowly stroking your drenched panties.

“tighnari please…”

he removes your underwear, the smell of your arousal feeding into his desires. it’s so addicting, he wishes that he could have you all to himself, the way you whined and blushed under his touch.

two fingers are slipped into your hole. in embarrassment, you attempt to hide your pleasured moans, the ranger chuckles in response. “don’t hold back from me. don’t you wanna be a good girl and show me how good it feels ?” he asks while fucking his fingers deep inside of you. “tell me, how long have you been waiting for this ? you always seemed so nervous around me, and it just makes me want you even more.” he confesses. you let out a lewd moan. “since forever- ah, tighnari-”

he’s awfully good at what he was doing. the way he curved his fingers that hit the spot had you rolling your eyes to the back of your head. his pace is perfect and before you know it, you feel a heat in your stomach reaching its climax.

“ah ! tighnari i’m gonna…” you can’t finish your words." he nibbles on your ears teasingly. “you’re gonna cum ?” you nod quickly before cumming all over his fingers while still being a panting mess. he hums in satisfaction.

“that’s a good girl. don’t worry, i’m not done with you yet.” you can hear him unbuckle his pants. you’re already a sweating mess, and the thought of tighnari ramming his cock into you made you even more flushed.

he presses his dick against you and you realize how big he was. hell, you didn’t even dare to look back to see if your assumption was true. “tighnari it’s so big. will it even fit ?” you mumble.

“don’t worry, i’m sure you can take it all.” he responds, kissing your neck eagerly. his words were just too sweet to resist, and before you know it, he’s got you twirled around his finger.

you suck in a deep breath as he slowly inserts himself inside your throbbing hole. he was gentle, making sure not to hurt you in any way. inch by inch, he settles inside your gummy walls; and he swears that the image of you looking like this is enough to get him cumming.

“that’s my pretty girl.”

the word ‘my’ go through your head, and his praises make you clench around him unconsciously, your walls gripping onto his dick. he groans, “fuck… you’re making me so close already.”

the thrusts start off slow and steady. his hands are secured on your hip as he begins to rut into you deeper and faster. you squirm. lewd sounds of his dick fucking you in and out echoes through the room; you swear his desk could break any moment.

“t-tighnari… it feels so good !”

he’s panting and moaning into your ear as pleasure vibrates from all over your body. despite the fact that your hips are clothed, you swore his grip would bloom red bruises over your waist. the rolling of his hips into yours made you starstruck.

his dick reaches the same spot that pleased you the most. your voice gets louder as he continues to fuck you in that soft spot. “ah ! right there !” your legs are shaking and your eyes are rolled back, mouth hung wide open with erotic sounds exiting your vocal chords.

sticky liquid coats his dick and dribbles down to the wooden ground. the sound is so sticky and the smell of sex is heavy in the room.

“come on, just a bit more, ‘m close too.” he’s practically begging you as he continues to fuck himself into you. the feeling was addicting, your walls so soft and tight, perfect, just the way he liked.

tighnari is quick to reach his own climax and pulls out with a wince, cum slicking your back, leaving a shiny finish to your shaking figure. he moves your h/c hair out of the way before placing gentle kisses on your nape. “truly, you’re too good for me.”

“you really are too good.”

#genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin #genshin tighnari #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin oneshots #tighnari #tighnari x reader #genshin fluff #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #going feral

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theroyalthrones · 6 months

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Behind the Scenes | Chateau de Chantilly | Grenoble, Lavande

beginning | previous | next

Transcript Under the Cut

LAURIE ALAIRE We can't keep meeting like this GISELLE DE LA VALLIERE Laurie? LAURIE ALAIRE Sel, what are you doing here? GISELLE DE LA VALLIERE I'm just doing a bit of research. headed going to the library. LAURIE ALAIRE I'll help with you. GISELLE DE LA VALLIERE … In the library now, She's sitting up reading at a large chair. He's draped over another chair. He's staring ather, she can feel it. M1-3

GISELLE DE LA VALLIERE What? LAURIE ALAIRE What? GISELLE DE LA VALLIERE You're starring at me. LAURIE ALAIRE What are you even doing at the palace? 2-3 GISELLE DE LA VALLIERE I'm your sisters new lady-in-waiting. Yknow, for the wedding? LAURIE ALAIRE Really? No one told me that. GISELLE DE LA VALLIERE I don't see why they would. You probably didn't notice because you've had your head up your ass for weeks recently. 3-3 LAURIE ALAIRE Ouch, you really know how to wound me. GISELLE DE LA VALLIERE As if, that ego of yours has such a strong plate of armor doesn't it?

LAURIE ALAIRE (laughs) You've always been particularly gifted at the task, Sella. GISELLE DE LA VALLIERE … 4-3 LAURIE ALAIRE … Why would you be her lady in waiting? GISELLE DE LA VALLIERE Hmm? LAURIE ALAIRE Isn't the Lady Giselle de la Valliere too good for such things. GISELLE DE LA VALLIERE It would seem others don't share that sentiment, Lance. GISELLE DE LA VALLIERE Plus it's not like it's beneath me to aid the princess in her wedding preparations, now would it? 5-3 LAURIE ALAIRE My sister will be grateful for your company, I know I would be. GISELLE DE LA VALLIERE I can't say we won't be seeing eachother time to time. LAURIE ALAIRE That would make me very glad… Very glad. GISELLE DE LA VALLIERE Why are you moping around here with me? Don't you have pressing engagements? LAURIE ALAIRE I thought you were reading? 6-3 GISELLE DE LA VALLIERE Your presence is persistent, I can't consentrate- LAURIE ALAIRE (chuckling) Be careful, Giselle. You might make it sound like my presence effects you in more ways then one. GISELLE DE LA VALLIERE (scoffs) Fine, mope all you want. You're the one who wanted to tag- LAURIE ALAIRE I've been exiled. I ruined Caroline's party. 7-3 GISELLE DE LA VALLIERE Why'd you do it? LAURIE ALAIRE I don't know… I promised her I wouldn't. GISELLE DE LA VALLIERE I guess you broke that promise. LAURIE ALAIRE (sour chuckling) It wouldn't be the first. 8-3 GISELLE DE LA VALLIERE Don't bring that up, Lance. LAURIE ALAIRE Whaatt? GISELLE DE LA VALLIERE Don't be ignorant, I command you to stop it. LAURIE ALAIRE Command? I should command you to tell me why you're back, why you left.

GISELLE DE LA VALLIERE Why does every conversation come back to this? LAURIE ALAIRE You left and- I thought you'd never come back. GISELLE DE LA VALLIERE … Did you miss me? LAURIE ALAIRE I missed you, Giselle. Dearly. GISELLE DE LA VALLIERE So did I.

#ts4 storytelling #ts4 royal family #ts4 royals #ts4 royalty #royal sims #TheThronesStory #ts4story #sims story #sims storytelling #ts4 screenshots #ts4 story #ts4 legacy #HouseofAlaire #Sim: Laurie #Sim: Giselle

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annaphoenix1994 · 11 months

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Dead Man Walking - Part 2

First Part - Masterlist

Tags: Angst/Eventual Smut/Confused Simon/Jealous Simon/Simon Doesn't Know How to Process his Feelings

Word Count: 2,228

Summary: Lila Shelby is a private investigator and right-hand informant for Station Chief Laswell, sending you undercover to pose as an American soldier to investigate Phillip Graves as Laswell has an idea that there was more to the story than just what Shepherd had told her. Nearly eight months into the investigation, Lila (you) befriended as well as grew feelings for the quiet, yet intimidating British Lieutenant Simon Riley. When an intimate encounter simmers, Simon is faced with a responsibility he had never been faced with: Lila's heart.

Author's Note: I'm so sorry I'm just now publishing this. I had saved it as a draft months ago and just now finished it! Part 3 coming sooner than this one!

"You handled it well back there." Ghost commented, his gaze still solid on the amber-colored liquid in his glass, his heart racing as he processed her soft and vulnerable laugh at his comment.

She shrugged, "It only gets better from here."

"What're you going to do?"

"Well," She sighed, crossing her leg over her knee. "I did my research and sent it to Laswell. Just waiting on her to call me back and give me the order."

"I see." He nodded, a frown splaying behind his mask - a frown that she could not see.

But she felt it.

"After I get my orders, I'll still be here to locate the missiles and take out Hassan. I won't be going anywhere any time soon." She sighed.

"Good."

"Gettin' all sentimental, are we?" She teased.

"No, just saying that it's a good thing you're here."

She hummed, "I could say the same about you."

"Why?"

"You've saved my ass a couple of times already within these last few months is why," She giggled, playfully nudging his elbow with hers. A gesture of physical touch that nearly drove him wild. "Got a sharp eye on you, Lieutenant."

He huffed in agreement, "I have to. You don't know what don't push means."

"Believe me, I do, but I'm not patient."

"I'm well aware. That's why I've had to save your arse twice now," He grumbled, curling his fingers around the hem of his balaclava to bring it up to his top lip to take another sip of the bourbon, relying on the liquid courage for what was about to leave his lips next. "It was easy to spot where you were with an arse like that."

Too fucking bold, Simon.

She was nearly startled by his words, wondering if she should take it as a compliment or an insult, but something told her that he was trying to hint at how he felt about her, which was a shock in itself. "Been staring at my ass much, Ghost?" She chuckled.

"Can't help it," He shrugged. "It finds its way to my view all on its own."

"I'll have you know that I'm very self-conscious about my body-"

"You shouldn't."

"I do consider if my ass is the only thing you look at."

"I look at more than just that," He huffed, the bourbon taking completely over with his internal fight with his own emotions - something that he had never been able to conquer without the aid of alcohol to take the edge off. "Especially when you revealed your face. Haven't been able to get it out of my mind."

"I'm sure it was a shock," She giggled. "That typically happens when you thought I looked completely different than what you expected-"

"It wasn't what I expected, but it's not a bad thing. You're not ugly at all."

"You're just saying that-"

"Stop. You're beautiful."

He saw her arch her brow in his peripheral vision, hating how she refused to accept his compliment, but he couldn't blame her - he wouldn't believe her if she were to compliment him either.

"If you say so."

"I can show you how beautiful you are."

His words didn't mean to leave his mind. He wanted her desperately - to show her how he could admire her with his own touch and body, to whisper against her skin that her insecurities only haunted her thoughts and not his own.

She didn't respond as quickly as he would have liked and expected a rejection, something he was used to already. He sighed, breaking the silence as he regretted it almost immediately for possibly ruining their relationship.

"H-How?" She asked, her foot tapping nervously against the floor.

"It's just something I have to show. I can't just say it."

"Why?" She nearly giggled in disbelief.

"For one, I'm not good with words. Two, you wouldn't believe me if I said it."

"You're probably right," She sighed. "Although I doubt you can show me that I'm beautiful and make me believe you."

"We'll see about that," He grumbled, slowly standing to his feet. "That is, if you'd let me?"

She nodded hesitantly for her own sake, growing intensely nervous as to what was about to happen. She watched him close the door to his bedroom before he locked it, turning off the light in the process, the only light illuminating the room was the single light that was above the sink in his bathroom. She soon felt his presence standing before her, watching his arm extend towards her, his hand opening as if he were asking her to take it.

She did.

She stood to her feet, feeling his hot breath fanning against her face, realizing that he had exposed his lips from the confines of his balaclava, the dim light bronzing against his exposed skin of his jaw, light stubble surrounding his lips. Her breath altered at the sight, wondering what he looked like without the mask completely, putting together a mental picture as best as she could.

By what she could see, he was beautiful.

With a gloved hand now grasping hers, he reached for her other hand before guiding her arms to where they were around his neck, loosening his grasp before his hands rested gently on her hips. He saw a gleam of excitement in her eyes, looking over her features before slowly moving his face closer to hers, the feeling of her lips on his being better than he imagined, although he felt as if he overstepped a boundary when her lips were tight against his, hesitant on roaming his shoulders with her hands. "Relax, love." He mumbled against her lips.

"Hard to relax when this is happening," She giggled. "It's all overwhelming."

"Overwhelming?"

"The excited type." She giggled, forcing herself to relax against his lips, accepting his gestures that she desperately wanted.

"Good." He whispered before returning his lips to hers, sighing as he felt her relax, swiping the tip of his tongue against her bottom lip, a sly grin curling on his mouth as she accepted his tongue, deepening the kiss on her own terms, his grip tightening on her hips as he pulled her closer while he guided her to lay on the bed, settling his weight between her legs.

Naturally, her legs hooked around his hips, the pinch of his holsters and belt nipping at her inner thighs as he couldn't help but grind his hips into her as his lips moved against her neck, striking those nerve endings that sent sparks throughout her entire body mixed with the smell of his natural scent and deodorant. "Is this okay?" He whispered against her neck as she felt his bare fingers grazing against the exposed skin of her hip.

She nodded, "I want more of you. I want all of you, Gho-"

"Simon," He corrected her, feeling as if she deserved to hear his real name as she was about to give herself to him completely. "Simon Riley."

"Lila Shelby," She giggled, pulling back from his lips to say her full name. "Definitely a new way to introduce each other."

"I know who you are, love." He smirked at her expression when she realized that he had removed his balaclava completely, his words making her feel like she was melting under his words alone.

All she could do was hum in response, her hands hesitantly reaching up to cup his face as his lips returned to lock with hers, pressing his growing erection into her at the same time, a heavy sigh leaving his nostrils at the tension he had been longing to relieve. "You can touch me. I won't stop you."

"Not this time, huh?" She giggled, referring to the comforting hug she had tried to give him weeks prior after one of their talks, afraid that he'd pull away again if she began to explore his body.

"Not this time." He said lowly, his fingers resting at the bottom of her ribcage, hesitant to continue forward as it had been a few years since he had been with a woman.

"Touch me, Simon."

"Say it again." He grumbled, the sound of his name coming from her mouth encouraging him to continue.

"Touch me, Simon."

His hand moved to cup her breast, her back arching against his chest as his other arm stabilized him as he hovered over her.

Now fully feeling his erection against her core, a light sheet of sweat embraced her as her shirt had been removed fully, Simon sitting back on his knees to reach for the hem of his shirt to remove it only to be stopped. "Can I?"

She watched him smirk through the dimly-lit room, "I'm all yours." He said, opening his arms as she moved to sit on her knees, reaching for the hem of his shirt to slowly pull it upwards, Simon raising his arms above his head to feel his shirt leave his torso, feeling her palm press against his sternum, trailing her hand downward towards his belly button, feeling the hard muscle under her palm before he guided her back down on the bed, his lips pressing against her collarbone before making a trail of their own over the mounds of her breasts, his hand replacing his lips when he continued downward, stopping briefly once he got to her belt, the heat of her core radiating through her pants, nearly driving Simon wild at the thought.

Removing her pants from her hips and legs, he tossed them carelessly to the floor, his hands returning to her bare legs as his fingers hooked around the hem of her panties, "You alright?" He asked, continuously asking for her consent as he truly didn't want her to feel uncomfortable.

She nodded, lifting her hips as he removed her underwear, Simon noticing her insecurity by her thighs instinctively clamping together after she was bare completely under him.

His hands rested on her knees, "Gettin' shy on me, love?"

He knew exactly why she was nervous, but he hoped that she knew that he wouldn't judge her for whatever insecurity she thought she had.

"I-I can't help it." She blushed.

"Don't be nervous," He assured her, moving to lay between her thighs after feeling her relax. "Just relax."

"What if you don't like-"

"Shh." He smirked against her thigh, pressing his lips along her inner thigh from her knee to her hip, the smell of her pheromones enticing him further and further, his mouth watering for the taste of her to be on his lips.

Feeling her relax against his touch, his lips latched around her clit as a loud moan escaped her lips, turning her head to the side and clamping her eyes shut to enjoy the sensation Simon was giving her so effortlessly.

After a few moments, Simon sensed that she was anticipating more by how he felt her walls contracting over nothing. Slowly, he entered a finger inside of her, groaning against her clit at the feeling of her tightness. After inserting another finger inside of her, he curled his fingers upwards towards her G-Spot, continuing to nurse on her clit with the same motion of his fingers, effortlessly making her teeter on the brink of an orgasm.

He waited until she got to that high, stopping before she reached that high to tease her instead of making himself feel selfish, standing to his feet on the edge of the bed to remove his pants, his erection springing free and causing her to shudder at the sight. He pumped himself once, precum dripping from his tip as he relaxed onto his knees, "Ready?"

She nodded, reaching to grasp for his forearm and digging her nails into his tattooed skin, wincing as he entered her slowly, suddenly more aroused at the sound of a whimper leaving Simon's lips. "Fuckin' hell." He grumbled.

"W-What is it?" She panted.

"So fuckin' tight, love." He replied, pressing a kiss to her neck as he began to thrust into her slowly, resisting the urge to fill her to the brim just by how well she hugged him. She hummed, smirking at his compliment as her legs twined around his hips, her calves subtly pulling him closer against her.

"I'm going to assume that's a good thing." She giggled.

"Very good thing," He groaned, leaning up to view where they were joined, obsessed with how his girth disappeared within her with every thrust, grasping her ankles with his hands for leverage before he reached down and grasped a pillow, lifting up her hips to put the pillow under the small of her back, Lila unaware that the gesture was for her pleasure as he would perfectly hit her G-Spot with every thrust. "So fuckin' good for me, yeah?"

She moaned in response, although it wasn't what Simon wanted to hear.

He wanted to hear how good he made her feel.

He put his weight on her, curling his hips into her as he was pleased to feel the firmer ridges of her as he thrusted against her G-Spot, kissing against her neck and jaw before he asked, "Tell me, love."

"Yes," She sighed. "Always good for you, Simon."

He smirked against her jaw, "Good girl."

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eskawrites · 5 months

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listen. @sweepy-stringbean said 'we need the recovery scene after the vecna'd moss back stab' in the tags of a post and i was helpless to do anything but drop everything and write it. so here you go. tenlark sequel to this.

If Tenar ever wakes up, Lark is going to kill her.

When Tenar wakes up. Because she is going to wake up. She has to, because she trusted Lark to do a job, and Lark doesn’t think she can do it if Tenar is gone. Because Lark is shit at this, was never meant for it, will never be anything close to half the leader Tenar can so effortlessly be.

But mostly because Lark thinks her own heart will stop beating alongside Tenar’s, and then they’ll all be ruined.

She imagines it, late at night, sitting at Tenar’s bedside after she’s slipped back into the ward once the healers have closed the doors for the night. She thinks about what it would feel like, walking around with a still, dead heart. It would be heavy, she thinks. Perhaps it would sink further into her chest, weighing her shoulders down, pressing against her lungs and making it hard to breathe. She wonders if it would start to rot. If her stagnant blood would turn black, if her skin would grow ashy to match. She would be forever in mourning, her veins thick and black like a widow’s garment.

“Queen Regent,” Arren greets her when he walks into her room one morning. She glares at him, and he grins and waves the tray in his hands. “I brought you food. The servants say you aren’t eating.”

“I can get my own food.”

“A queen should never have to serve herself.”

“Will you shut up, Arren?”

He sighs, smile fading, and she would apologize if she wasn’t so busy fighting back sudden tears.

“I mean it all with love,” he says, as if she doesn’t know that. She reaches up and rubs her eyes. “And you really do need to eat.”

“What I need is to find Moss.” She curls her hand into a fist and lets it fall to the table. “What I need is to figure out what he’s planning. What I need is for the council to make themselves useful and aid Ged’s research.”

“Lark—”

“What I need is to get a hold of myself so I can do the job she left for me. No, fuck that, what I need is her.” She looks up at Arren, not bothering to fight the tears anymore. “I can’t do it, Arren. Why did she do this? Why did she choose me?”

“I think you know the answer to that.”

“It should’ve been you.”

“Oh no,” he says, laughing weakly. “I’d be screwing it all up, and you’d be telling me everything I’m doing wrong in precise detail.”

“But I can’t do this,” she says, a sob breaking through her words.

Arren walks over, sets the tray down, and places his hands on her shoulders. “She wouldn’t have chosen you if you couldn’t do it.”

“There are people claiming to have seen Moss in the eastern outskirts,” Ged says, every word heavy with exhaustion. “But the guards say it’s only rumors.”

“What do you think?” Lark asks.

“I think that, if the guards thought there was any chance she was there, they would have already tried to arrest her.”

She nods. “We never should have told the people it was Moss.”

“We couldn’t lie to them.”

“I know,” she breathes. It’s why she had given the order to spread the word.

“At least now she can’t hurt anyone else. If someone spots her, we’ll know about it.”

Lark shakes her head. “If only we had that kind of luck.”

“And Lady Fina has offered her best scouts to comb the outer villages,” Lark says, rolling up the parchment that contained Ged’s notes from that afternoon’s council meeting. “That’s tripled our patrols while maintaining a strong guard presence to protect the people. As soon as he makes a move, we’ll know it.”

She pauses and looks down at Tenar. Her face is frighteningly pale. Her hair is wild against the pillows, more unruly than she ever lets it get. Lark reaches out as if to brush it into place, but she stops herself and pulls her hand back.

“Of course, he hasn’t made a move,” she whispers. “We know he’s planning something, we just have no idea what. My best guess is that he—he’s waiting for the news of your death.”

She watches Tenar’s face, praying to every god she knows for some small movement. Some recognition of her voice. Nothing comes. Lark closes her eyes, then opens them and looks at her again.

“I’m doing my best, Tenar. I will do everything I can, for as long as I can. But I really, really don’t want to do it without you.”

Tenar remains still, silent, so far away and so close to the end that Lark can’t even see the rise and fall of her chest with her breathing. She does reach out this time, just to press her fingers to Tenar’s wrist and feel her heart beating. It’s quiet and frantic, but it hasn’t given out yet.

“Please,” she whispers, letting her touch linger just this once. “Please, Tenar. Please don’t leave me. Not now. Not ever.”

Many people in the palace would say that Queen Tenar has no temper. They say her patience is limitless, her demeanor unshakably calm.

Lark knows better. Tenar has a temper—an impressive one, too. She just has a much longer fuse, and a much stronger ability to hide her anger when it finally ignites.

Lark…doesn’t.

“Lord Vayne, would you quit blowing hot air out of that useless head of yours and listen to what I am telling you. Moss is not an enemy of the palace, and even if she was, sending bounty hunters after her would only serve to get them killed.”

“The men I am speaking of are the best in the land. They—”

“And Moss has helped save this kingdom when every other force at your disposal proved utterly useless. However talented your hired brutes are, they will not best her. Now sit down and hold your tongue while the rest of us discuss actual ideas.”

He glares at her, but he sits. Lark glares back, feeling completely hollow even in her triumph. She looks around the table. Everyone else is looking back at her, faces carefully blank. Arren catches her eye and winks.

The door bursts open. Arren jumps to his feet and draws his sword. Lark grabs her bow from her chair, but she recognizes the guard before she can aim.

“Queen Regent,” he says, ignoring everyone else in the room. “I’m sorry to interrupt—I just came from the ward. They’re asking for you. They say it’s urgent.”

Lark dashes across the room. Someone shouts after her, protesting her behavior or reminding her of some stupid formality she should follow before leaving the meeting, but she doesn’t really hear it. She doesn’t hear anything but her steps pounding down the hall, and her blood rushing in her ears, and the guard’s voice, apologizing again for interrupting, telling her he isn’t sure, they just sent him to collect her.

They reach the ward. The guard stops, but Lark doesn’t. She shoves through the doors. She races past the guards posted in the front room. She slams her way into the room with Tenar’s bed, and then she freezes, because all she can see is healers gathered around the bedside, and white sheets piled at the foot of the bed, and she realize that she doesn’t know why they called for her, and maybe she doesn’t want to know.

But then she hears a small voice, beloved and familiar even if it’s never sounded so frail.

“Lark?”

One of the healers turns, shuffling to the side, and Lark can see her at last. Tenar is still lying down, still terrifyingly pale, but her eyes are open. Her lips are pulling into a weak smile. She breathes in, and Lark can see it in the rise of her chest. She’s alive.

She’s alive.

And Lark remembers, suddenly, how furious she is with her.

Tenar’s mouth quirks up, like she can read Lark’s mind. Maybe she can. Lark wouldn’t be surprised, actually. Tenar glances up at the healers around her bed.

“Leave us for a moment.”

They all nod their assent and walk away, leaving the room empty save for Lark and Tenar and the heavy silence stretching between them.

“Lark,” Tenar breathes, but Lark shakes her head. Tenar lifts a hand toward her. Her fingers shake with the effort. “You can say whatever you want, and I’m sure I’ll deserve it. But come here first, please.”

“You almost died.” Her own words hit her like a blow, but the almost is what lingers, warming her chest slowly but surely. She closes her eyes. She steps closer. “I—I thought—”

“I am here,” Tenar breathes. Her fingers brush against Lark’s, and Lark blindly intertwines them. “I have not left you.”

“But you did.”

The warmth turns to anger, to rage, and she clings to it, holds it close until it is blinding and painful, preventing her from thinking too much about I have not left you and how good it threatens to make her feel. She opens her eyes, and Tenar’s gaze is understanding. Sympathetic. It’s easy, suddenly, to only see the rage.

“You did leave me,” she says. “No, not just that, you named me Queen. Me! Are you out of your mind?”

“No.”

“You are a fool, Your Highness!”

“I disagree, Queen Regent.”

“Shut up!” Her voice cracks, and she almost laughs. She breathes out, and it sounds more like a cry. “I’m so mad at you, Tenar.”

“I know,” Tenar says softly. “And I’m sorry. I truly am. But it was the right choice to make, Lark. I know it was, and I think you do, too.”

Lark does, but that doesn’t stop her from shaking her head. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”

Tenar takes her hand and pulls it up to her face. Lark moves with her, pliant, obedient, willing to be anything Tenar needs her to be, always.

“You’ve done beautifully,” Tenar whispers.

“You don’t even know what’s happened in your absence.”

“But I know you.” Tenar closes her eyes.

She’s sweating, Lark realizes. Exhausted. In pain, probably. Lark leans closer and brushes her hair back. Tenar smiles softly, and Lark feels relief crash so brutally through her that she thinks she might be sick.

“You would have done better,” Lark says, softer now. “Lord Vayne hates me, you know.”

“Lord Vayne hates everyone. Whatever you said to him, he probably deserved it.” Tenar opens her eyes. “I really am sorry. I will—they’ve already told me I must stay overnight, but I can call the council here, I will catch up on everything, I will—”

“You will rest,” says Lark. She runs her fingers through Tenar’s hair again. “I will do everything you need me to do, for however long you need me to do it. And you will rest for as long as your healers tell you to.”

Tenar’s smile turns sly. “Want to bet?”

“Against you? Never.” Lark swallows. “But my point stands. I’ve sworn my oath to you, and to this kingdom. I will be your regent for as long as you need me.”

“Even if you hate it?”

“Well. I do get to tell your council what to do, which is fun.”

“You can tell them what to do anyway.”

“Yes, but now they have to actually listen.” She grins as Tenar laughs softly. But then they both sober, their eyes meeting again. Lark swallows. “I’m glad you’re back, Tenar.”

“I’m not done yet.” Tenar squeezes her fingers. “And I wouldn’t leave you.”

“You keep saying that,” Lark breathes.

“I do not say things I do not mean.”

“Believe me, I know.”

“I know you do. Allow me to prove it to you anyway.”

Lark realizes how close they are, foreheads nearly touching. Tenar pulls at her hand, eyes wide, searching—begging for something in lieu of a command she doesn’t dare give.

As if Lark has ever wanted anything but to obey. She closes the distance, feeling Tenar’s smile when their lips meet, hearing her quiet sigh as Lark cradles her head and kisses her. They part after only a moment, and the light in Tenar’s eyes brings tears to Lark’s.

“What is it?” Tenar breathes. Her thumb strokes over Lark’s palm, pressing gently, grounding her. “My dear Lark, what’s wrong?”

Lark lets out a short, wet laugh. There are so many terrible things waiting for them both just outside the door, but Lark finds that the only answer she can give is to shake her head and lean in again. Tenar kisses her gently, happily. This time when they part, she brings her hand up to cup Lark’s cheek and keep her close.

“Stay here a while,” Tenar says. “Lie with me, and tell me all I’ve missed, and we’ll figure out what comes next together.”

What can Lark do but obey? She follows Tenar’s gentle pull on her hand until she’s lying beside her, arms wrapped carefully around her, and she lets Tenar ask question after question about what has happened, and she feels that—finally, for just a moment—the world is right again.

#tenlark #erathia #celebrity fake dating au #lmaooo sorry if anyone ever looks through that tag for actual ronance content and gets this nonsense instead #thanks rae for unintentionally enabling me #again

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writersmorgue · 4 months

Text

Febuwhump Day 7 - Suffering in Silence

I would like to preface this by saying I did NOT do much research for this so if you know much about first aid I am so sorry.

TWs in tags || read on Ao3 || wc: 1,817

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Hanta saw this video the other day, about how parents could hear the most blood-curdling screams but only panic when their children are suddenly silent.

Well, he thinks he knows the feeling. His friends are always loud, if in different ways. Mina is always squealing happily about something or another, Eijirou is always making noise, clanging weights in the gym or singing badly in the communal showers, Denki is always talking, always humming or stimming or body slamming into the nearest person he trusts not to punch him on instinct. Kyoka is always drumming on some surface or humming in the quiet of the lounge.

And Katsuki, he’s just… Katsuki. If you asked anyone to describe him in one word, it would be loud.

He thinks if any of them ever stopped making noise, he would be very concerned.

So that’s why when the loudest person in their class announces he’s going for a solo hike during their squad camping trip, Hanta, ever the mom-friend, allows him to go with just a handheld radio and some flares.

My quirk is a flare, dumbass.

Hey, you never know!!

And then the scheduled return time passes, and he never shows back up. There’s no noise

“I’m going to go look for him,” Eijirou checks his watch for the nth time, gathering his backpack and hastily shoving their med kit inside, “he probably wandered off the trail.”

They all know that’s not what happened. Katsuki is a stickler for rules, no way in hell would he have strayed from the path, and it’s unlikely he ignored to return time unless his phone or watch were dead. Even then, his survival skills are fantastic, he’d have come back by now.

Which means something is wrong.

Hanta chuckles thinly, “Or he wanted some more alone time, I’ll go with. Kyoka you should come too.”

They head out after confirming channels with Mina and Denki.

Eijirou nervously fidgets with his fabric bracelet as they trace Katsuki’s supposed hiking path. “You don’t think he was like… kidnapped or something, right?”

Kyoka shakes her head and removes her ear jack from the ground, “Nah, we’d know. Even if he couldn’t use his quirk he can still yell loud as fuck.” She offers no alternative.

“Sensei and our parents are the only ones who know we’re here anyway, it’s not like Ka- like last time.” Hanta glances at Ejiirou warily. The kidnapping first year is still a rough subject for all of them, but he knows Eijirou was affected almost as much as Katsuki is even after almost two years.

“Yeah.” Eijirou nods, reassured but still visibly anxious.

They step out into a sort of clearing, leading to a steep incline and cliff with a small lake beneath it. There’s an inky smudge on the cliffside and the occasional resilient weed poking from the gray rocks.

Hanta cups his hands around his mouth and yells Katsuki’s name a few times. “Well, he was definitely here. Do you think he went swimming?” Hanta suggests, walking down to the rocky mini-beach.

Eijirou looks more concerned than before, but steps forward with Hanta, “No, he hates water. Nullifies his quirk.”

Hanta turns back to Kyoka, “You could try your quirk again.”

Her expression startles him. Her eyes are wide, her mouth pressed into a thin line. But her ear jacks are still close to her head, so he isn’t sure-

She breaks off into a dead sprint, shoving past Eijirou and Hanta before they even have time to question her. Her radio and phone are tossed back as a last thought, but Hanta knows she still has her headphones on her, so whatever it is must be pretty urgent.

And then he spots it.

A limp, pale hand jutting out of the water, wedged in the jagged rocks at the bottom of the cliff. It’s so distant that Hanta can barely make it out, but it falls directly below the smudge.

Soot. From an explosion.

Fuck, he thinks, just as Eijirou voices it before tossing his radio as well and jumping in.

Kyoka has almost made it to Katsuki, because it can only be Katsuki under there, and takes a deep breath before submerging her head.

Please, fuck please let him be okay.

Hanta scrambles toward the water before remembering his training and pulling out his own radio.

First sending an SOS to the emergency line on his own, he then radios back to Mina and Denki on Eijirou’s.

“Did you find him?” Denki’s voice crackles through.

“Uh,” Hanta falters, looking from the radio to the water. Three of his friends are now under there and he has no fucking idea what the situation is, “listen, Denki. I don’t know how bad it is yet, but we need Aizawa or someone to come-”

There’s a splash, and Hanta’s head shoots up, Eijirou’s head flings out of the water. A soggy head of blond hair resting on his shoulder, “HANTA!” He screeches, more desperate than Hanta’s ever heard. “TAPE! TAPE!”

Kyoka’s head pops up next, gasping. Her arms flail as she tries to regain her buoyancy. “WE NEED DENKI HERE NOW!!”

Hanta flounders for a mere second before shooting into action. He arches his elbow and shoots a long rope of tape out to the edge of the lake. Eijirou immediately grabs onto the end, taking Kyouka’s hand as Hanta reels them in with a grunt.

He jams the SOS button on this radio as well and yells at Denki to look at the sky in the direction they walked earlier, “Do you see the tape?” He arches his other arm and shoots another line into the sky.

Denki is silent for a moment before he grunts an affirmative, and Hanta can tell he’s running.

Eijirou finally makes it to shore, dragging Katsuki’s limp body with him.

Well, not quite limp, he looks like he’s having some sort of seizure.

“Hyp-poxic c-convulsion,” Kyoka stutters, body shivering severely. It’s cold enough to warrant Katsuki wearing a scarf and gloves, which Eijirou is actively stripping him of. Hanta can’t imagine how cold they must be.

Denki enters the clearing just as Eijirou begins chest compressions, Hanta shouts at Mina to run back and grab all of their blankets. She’s frozen at the scene before her, but eventually nods hesitantly and turns back around.

“Denki, shock him, you need to-” Eijirou is still pumping at Katsuki’s chest, so focused that Denki has to practically shove him off.

“Back!” He shouts, rubbing his hands together and summoning his quirk.

Kyoka yanks Eijirou away from Katsuki and cuffs his hands with her ear jack.

Denki takes a deep breath and closes his eyes before resting his hands and pulsing electricity into Katsuki’s chest.

Katsuki’s chest arches, the movement so unnatural and controlled that it sends a shiver down Hanta’s spine.

Denki checks his pulse and resumes chest compressions, jaw clenching. They all collectively wince when they hear a dull snap.

Mina comes racing back into the open, throwing the blankets on the ground next to Eijirou and sliding to her knees.

“What’s happening?” A stern, tinny voice speaks out of Mina’s phone.

Oh, Aizawa. Good call.

“Katsuki went on a hike alone he must have fallen off the cliff. It looks like he tried to use his quirk but he ended up propelling himself into the water. He has a head injury, and probably needs stitches.” Kyoka relays with a dangerously monotone voice, the vigorous shaking has subsided for the most part.

Hanta’s eyes travel to where Eijirou is sitting near Katsuki’s head. His hand is pressing gauze against a bleeding wound on the upper part of his forehead. The skin around it is a shocking dark purple in comparison to the pale, almost blue tint of his skin.

Kyoka continues, “He was underwater for an unknown length of time, when we pulled him out he was convulsing. Weak, irregular pulse. Hanta?”

Hanta scoots forward, moving around Denki to press his fingers to Katsuki’s pulse point.

“Weak, irregular.” He says, looking up at Mina’s phone as if Aizawa will climb out himself and fix all their problems.

“Kaminari, shock him again, then check his pulse and tell me.”

Hanta removes his hands and allows Denki to take control again.

“CLEAR!” He shouts, activating his quirk. Katsuki’s eyelids flutter this time, giving them a glimpse of his severely bloodshot eyes.

Denki leans down and checks, “Heartbeat, no breathing.”

“Rescue breaths,” Aizawa instructs.

Denki shuffles to Katsuki’s side, tilting his head up and plugging his nose. He presses their mouths together and breathes several times. Katsuki’s chest moves steadily with each exhale.

“Is his chest rising?”

“Yes.” Hanta and Mina both respond, staring as they wait for something to happen.

Denki shifts back to chest compressions, blood smeared on his cheek from Katsuki’s head.

“How long has he been above water-”

Katsuki’s eyes shoot open, pink liquid bubbling up from his mouth as he chokes.

Mina gasps, “He’s-!”

“Move him on his side!” Aizawa yells from the phone.

Eijirou holds his head steady as they roll him, his chest heaving as water spews from his mouth and nose.

“Fuck, is this good? Please tell me this is a good thing, I don’t know what to do,” Eijirou leans over Katsuki’s head, trying to see his face.

“Kirishima, breathe.” Kyoka places a hand on his back, but Hanta can tell she’s panicking too.

Denki reaches forward to check his pulse again, sighing when he feels something. He pulls out his phone with the other hand and holds it in front of Katsuki’s mouth. They breathe a collective sigh of relief when it barely fogs.

“Steady pulse, he’s breathing.” Denki exhales, watching Eijirou’s arm as he rubs shaky circles into Katsuki’s back.

“Send me your coordinates, we will be there in ten. Make sure he stays breathing, you hear me?” Aizawa grumbles, “I have to call his parents, call me back if his condition worsens.”

The call clicks off, three beeps cutting into the thick silence.

Katsuki wheezes.

“Holy fuck.” Hanta breathes, finding a truckload of emotion hitting him all at once.

They almost lost him. They almost lost Katsuki to a stupid cliff. No villains, no fighting, just an unfortunate accident.

Katsuki spits up again, and Hanta looks down at the pool of water draining from his pale lips.

Just… some water.

Eijirou crumples, sobbing into Katsuki’s shoulder. He drags his fingers through wet blond hair, avoiding the wound that has finally stopped gushing blood.

“I… can’t believe that just happened.” Mina whispers, new manicure crusted with dirt, her knees scuffed and bleeding.

“Yeah.” Denki nods, pulling himself away from Katsuki and into Kyoka’s side.

“He’s going to be okay.” Hanta asserts, pulling one of the blankets over Katsuki’s shoulders and taking one of his hands. “He’s fine.”

He’ll say it as many times as he needs to.

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whumpinggrounds · 9 months

Note

Hi there! Could I ask for some advice on writing nonspeaking characters/characters with mutism? One of my characters is unable to speak due to an early injury that resulted in paralysis of his larynx. He primarily uses ASL to communicate. Do you have any tips on how best to write or characterize him?

Hi! To be honest I forgot about this ask briefly, sorry!

So, a character with a paralyzed larynx. While I don't have any experience with this specific diagnosis, I can tell you that there are some ASL signs that require sound - or don't require it, but someone fluent in sign would make sounds with certain signs, which would be a signal of true fluency. Usually, these sounds are not super distinct, as many of the people making them can't hear them. You should explore whether your character makes noise when he signs or not.

It is worth mentioning that this character might not be welcomed with open arms into the Deaf community, depending on Deaf culture where he lives. This is something that is changing right now, but the Deaf community has been known in the past to be insular and difficult to break into if one is not Deaf, even if one does use sign language for a separate medical reason. There can be toxic standards of "Deaf enough" and being "Deaf of Deaf," or the Deaf child of Deaf adults.

Other things to think about - does your character make noise when he laughs? Yells? Cries? What does any of that sound like? Does he ever make involuntary noises? What would that look and sound like?

As a person that is unable to speak, your character might or might not identify with the nonverbal community. He would likely not identify with selective mutism or "mute" as a label, as the former is a separate diagnosis, and the latter is no longer used and often considered offensive.

Think about who he surrounds himself with, how they behave, and how that behavior is addressed within the narrative. Do people learn sign for him, or not? Do they talk over him, interrupt him, ignore him, or try to guess what he's going to sign? If so, what affect does this have on your character?

Finally, the larynx doesn't just aid in speech, it also aids in preventing us from aspirating food and choking on it. Is your character able to eat by mouth? If so, how much? Does he have to eat slower and pay close attention to avoid choking? Does he have to eat certain consistencies of food to avoid choking? Does he have to drink particular consistencies of liquid to avoid choking? If he uses a feeding tube, what does that look like?

These are all just questions to get you started. It might feel overwhelming, but you don't have to know everything right away. Pick a few things that seem right, do some research, and decide more! I'm happy to talk through more questions if you have them. Anyone who has more experience with this or information to add, feel free to tag on. As always, happy writing!

#disability asks #writing disabled characters #writing disability #disability #disability representation #writing nonverbal characters #nonverbal characters #asl #sign language

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annon-guy2 · 6 months

Text

BlazBlue Cross Tag Heroes: Marta Lualdi Astral Heat Reply Quotes (BlazBlue Cast)

Marta defeats her opponent with Radiant Roar and lands near her ally who has been healed and stands with her as they do a victory pose together.

Marta: "Are you okay?"

Replies;

Ragna: "You sure got guts to heal me of all people, but… thanks.”

Jin: "Hmph! Don’t expect any thanks from me, Vanguard runt!”

Noel: "Yes, t-thank you so much Marta! I will repay your kindness someday!"

Rachel: "I do appreciate you healing my familiars... not that they needed it."

Taokaka: "Tao feels so much better nyeow! Thanks Flower Girl!"

Tager: "All systems are green! You healing Artes is much appreciated!"

Litchi: "To think you're capable of this... you have my thanks."

Arakune: "B y! H l d! L f o ce re r in ! Re o ed! stor ! R to d! HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!!! (Body! Healed! Life force returning! Restored! Restored! Restored! HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!!!)

Bang: "A surprise healing spell combined with a secret attack ninpo! Well thought ahead my future disciple!"

Carl: "You have my thanks Miss Lualdi. My sister gives you her thanks too."

Hakumen: "You should look out for yourself going forward, but you have my gratitude."

Nu: "Vitals restored. Systems green. Resuming operations."

Tsubaki: "Yes, I am feeling rejuvenated thanks to your blessings!"

Hazama: "My my, it would seem you trust me after all! And here I thought you hated "two faced" people like me..."

Makoto: "Hell yeah! I'm feeling good now that you perked me up!"

Valkenhayn: "To help an old man like myself... you truly are an example of a kind young lady."

Platinum (Luna): "L-Luna didn't need help! But, at least you kicked those punks asses at least!"

Platinum (Sena): "T-thanks Miss Marta. I hope our opponents isn't too mad at you beating them to heal us..."

Relius: "Revitalizing your ally while damaging your opponent at the same time? This warrents further research indeed..."

Amane: "What a spectacular way to conclude this performance! You truly are this show's leading act!"

Bullet: "I appreciate you watching my back while I was down. At least this fight is over..."

Azrael: "Heh... I was just napping! Now... why are the prey already been eaten down to the bone?"

Kagura: "Healed by a charming young lady? I must be in heaven right now."

Kokonoe: "Talk about high level healing.... perhaps I can apply this 'Healing Arte' to Tager somhow..."

Celica: "So this is what it's like to be healed? Now I know this brings happiness to those I help! Thanks Marta!"

Lambda: "My body is healed. Thank you..."

Hibiki: "There are no issues here Miss Marta. Shall we be on our way?"

Naoto K.: "Ugh... that was embarrassing... but in all seriousness, thanks for the save."

Nine: "Your magic isn't like Celica's, but I'll take what I can get."

Susano'o: "Don't think this changes anything! You only prolonged your usefulness for a moment longer, worthless girl!"

Es: "All bodily functions have been restored. You have my sincerest thanks, Knight of Ratatosk Marta Lualdi."

Mai: "I'm feeling all good now thanks to you!"

Jubei: "Sorry to have ya defend me while I was down like that... but thanks for the aid little missy."

#BlazBlue Cross Tag Heroes #BlazBlue #Tales of Symphonia Chronicles #Tales of Symphonia: Dawn of the New World #Marta Lualdi #Special Quotes

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littlepanduh-writes-365 · 2 years

Text

Day 101

Title: “I Still See Those Stars”

Features: Jiyoo (Dream Catcher) | Seola (WJSN) | Seulgi (Red Velvet)

Word Count: 2,609

Inspiration: angsty one shot starters - "It really hurts."

Tags: Apocalypse/Dystopian AU | Angst | Open Ending

cw// blood

(I actually think this might turn into a full flic. There's a little more backstory regarding Hyunjung and a continuation for Seulgi and Jiyoo. I'll keep posting WIPs for the time being. Enjoy this little excerpt for now!)

(Minor context that will be in the full version: I haven't fully developed the story, but this is taken place some time in the beginning of an apocalypse. Just from a little research, it seems that electricity and satellites would still be working, especially in bigger cities. That's why my characters are still using them.)

“It really hurts.” Yoohyeon wants to follow up with another snarky comment, but finds herself completely winded after saying those three simple words. She lets out a gasp and attempts to cover it with a chuckle.

Doom washes over Minji and ferociously drains into the car seat below them. Yoohyeon wasn’t one to bluntly voice her pain. She was only like this in dire situations. Minji checks the gash on Yoohyeon’s side. Fighting her tears, she puts pressure on an area that was still bleeding and ignores Yoohyeon’s wince.

“We’re only twenty minutes away from the nearest encampment.” Hyunjung presses down on the accelerator.

Minji knows she needs to stay positive, but the logical side in her couldn’t help but think of the worst case scenario. What if the next encampment was already run over by a mob of monsters? What if it didn’t have medicine or food? They were running out of backup plans and extra supplies.

The weak woman puts a hand over her girlfriend’s fist. Not wanting to look at a bloody bandage, Minji looks back up at Yoohyeon and brushes away some stray hair.

What if she lost Yoohyeon?

“Stay strong.” Hyunjung’s timely advice is directed towards Yoohyeon, yet looks at Minji through the mirror in the sun visor.

Minji hates it. Twenty minutes was a long time. So much time, with little to do. She could stare out the window to calm her anxieties or stare into the love of her life’s eyes in case it may be the last time she does so. She could think about what her life will be like in a new base or reminisce about her college days with her girlfriend before this biological warfare started. Twenty minutes in this universe could be nothing or everything. Should Minji help look into other encampments and check radio signals or should she comfort the person she loves the most and mentally prepare for the worst?

She looks out the window to check for any signs of refuge. They were driving on a road that was right in between farmland and the city. Unfortunately, there were no signs of activity on either side. The factories were far out and didn't promise resources. Scavenging city buildings was risky and they already showed signs of abandonment. “How far out are we?” She isn’t coherent enough to think of a plan, but she could at least brainstorm something. The other passengers can put together the pieces.

Hyunjung looks at the GPS. “I’d say less than 30 kilometers.” Minji hates how unsure she sounds, but understands any satellite device has a growing margin of error in terms of accuracy. Time will only tell when cell towers and the electric grid will start to fail like in the movies.

Due to its damaged suspensions, the truck shakes rather violently as Hyunjung runs over some carcasses. Minji wants to scold her for driving so fast but still feels a wave of anxiety when Hyunjung slows down to an appropriate speed. The internal battle irritates the leader, making Minji hate her desperation for a safe haven.

Yoohyeon grunts. The aggressive shaking caused her to bleed out again. Minji fumbles around for the first aid kit. After making so much noise, Seulgi reaches behind them to pass on a clean bandage.

Minji dresses the wound. Thankfully, it’s not deep, but it’s undeniably sizable. “You’re gonna be okay, Yoo.” The patient reaches up to bite on her first. Minji hates seeing her in so much pain.

“Make a left at the intersection,” Seulgi commands in a low voice. Hyunjung follows her orders.

“Do we know anyone at that encampment?” Minji continues distracting herself.

Thankfully, Seulgi doesn’t hesitate to respond. “Our main point of contact is Kim Taeyeon.”

“Kim Taeyeon.” Minji ponders over her name. “Why does that name sound familiar?” Uncertainty hasn’t ever been a stranger to Minji ever since this horrid adventure started, but she wished there wasn’t so much of it at a time like this.

Seulgi visibly gulps. However, she knows not to test Minji’s patience. “Taeyeon-unnie took Joohyun-unnie into her care.”

It’s a rather bitter memory.

This Taeyeon-person seems trustworthy, but considering Joohyun’s fate…

Minji doesn’t like how there hasn’t been a single odd in their favor.

Still, she pushes for answers. “How do you know we can trust her?”

Seulgi bites the inside of her cheek. Even Hyunjung glances over to check on her. “Taeyeon-unnie took Joohyunnie in without any question.” She pauses to brace herself and to push back the affection. “I understand what happened to Joohyun-unnie, but we all know that was out of our control. I’m still grateful that sunbaenim took her in without question and treated her as best as she could.”

Minji can hold onto Seulgi’s hope, but continues to dig for a peace of mind. “And what if she’s not there?”

“I was in contact with her yesterday. They still have control over a communications tower and haven’t had to resort to using a backup power generator. They seem to be doing fine.” Seulgi’s defensive nature is a rare occurrence and tips Minji off.

“That was before the attack.” Minji sounds a little more volatile than she ever wants to be. “What if she’s not there? What if they were affected, too?”

Seulgi sighs. She doesn’t know how to give an answer that an angry Minji will accept.

This time, Hyunjung steps in. “The next camp after is another 12 kilometers from Taeyeon-ssi’s base. Hyojung-unnie and Hyunwoo-oppa are there. I haven’t contacted them, but their base camp is pretty big and I’m pretty confident that they’re still there. We’ll radio in when we get close.” Her supposed backup plan still had holes in it, but the concept was enough to ease some of Minji’s worries.

In the back, Yoohyeon takes a shaky breath. Minji immediately consoles her.

Hyunjung looks at her backseat passengers in the rearview mirror. “You think you can hold up, Yoo?” She won’t be able to see, but Yoohyeon smiles.

“She’s holding a thumbs up.” Minji lets out a chuckle.

It’s enough to keep the driver going.

“How about you?” Hyunjung lowers her voice and looks towards Seulgi. “Are you doing okay?”

Seulgi hesitates. Her silence is enough of an answer.

The tension in the car is rather unbearable, so Hyunjung rolls down her window and turns up the music. She mentally prepares herself for what she’s going to see—who she’s going to see. It’s a lot to think about and she may never be ready to return, but knows she doesn’t have a choice.

At least there’s a hint of excitement. That’s gotta count for something, right?

Trying to stay awake amidst the silence, Yoohyeon looks out the window and notices the Lotte World Tower. She smiles. “We’re on our way home.”

The message was a little too obscure for Minji’s comfort. Was Yoohyeon starting to see The Light ™? “What do you mean by that?”

Yoohyeon continues to stare out the window. “Everytime I took the bus home from uni, I knew we were close to home when I saw the Lotte World Tower. Don’t you remember?”

Minji doesn’t remember, and she’s about to lie, but suddenly remembers bus rides with Bora and Siyeon and finds comfort in the past. She wonders if her other friends are there. She wonders if they’re alive. She wonders if she can go home.

The car stops. Minji looks outside and sees that they have reached a bridge.

Hyunjung turns in her seat to crack her back. “It’s a rather long line, but the coast is clear and at least things are moving along. She pauses to take a deep breath. “We won’t be moving for a while. I’m going out to stretch and—” to brace myself. Hyunjung doesn’t complete her thought. “Is that okay with everyone?”

Seulgi looks back, mostly for Minji’s approval. She senses this magnetic pull between her and Yoohyeon that is just begging to be satisfied and mentally scrambles a way out of the car as well. “I’m going to check our inventory.”

Hyunjung unbuckles her seatbelt and scurries out. “Knock on the window in case you need something. I won’t go far.”

The driver’s window and the back door are open, but it’s the most privacy Minji and Yoohyeon have had in a long time. Minji allows herself to decompress, but tries to keep her emotions at bay. She can’t relish in relief until they pass this bridge.

“Minji-yah,” Yoohyeon weakly calls out to her.

The owner of the name looks down at her girlfriend and squeezes on her weakening hand. “We’re almost there, Yoo. Just wait a little more.”

The injured woman pitifully smiles. “Do you remember the time we went stargazing after finals?”

Minji doesn’t like this one bit.

She doesn’t like how Yoohyeon sounds tired of clinging onto hope. She hates thinking that Yoohyeon is resorting to their time at university to stay optimistic. She doesn’t want to remember their happiest memories at a time where it might be her worst one.

Yoohyeon chuckles. Even if her eyes were jaded, that smile peaked through the windows of her soul. “I was exhausted, but you pulled me out of bed and drove an hour out. You held me as we stared into the sky.” Despite her diminishing health, she forces herself to talk. It’s something she wants. It’s something she needs.

Minji remembers that day. She doesn’t think she’ll ever forget the moment she finally confessed to Yoohyeon. Yoohyeon doesn’t have the energy to retell the story in detail, but Minji probably doesn’t need it.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Although faint, there’s a hint of mischief in her smile.

Thinking this is Yoohyeon’s way of lightening the mood, Minji plays along. “What’s that?”

It takes a moment for Yoohyeon to respond. Be it the fact that the adrenaline is no longer numbing out the pain or the reality of Yoohyeon digesting the idea of exposing the truth because she might not have the chance to do so at their wedding, the younger woman musters up some courage. “You were so upset about all the fog at the top of the mountain.”

Minji giggles out of embarrassment. “Yeah. You tried to make me feel better by saying you saw a shooting star.” She stares out the window. It was barely past noon. If only Minji could wish on a star, she’d pray for Yoohyeon’s safe recovery. “I know you were lying, but you were persistent that you saw it.”

Yoohyeon’s smile is so beautiful yet painful to witness. “You’re right, I didn’t see a shooting star that night.”

She pauses to catch her breath. When she closes her eyes, memories seem to flash in a span of seconds. Yoohyeon does see the day they actually went to see a meteor shower. She remembers wishing how she wanted to spend the rest of her life with Minji. Oh, how unfortunately short that time might end up being. It’s a shame she never got to give Minji the ring she bought considering how their apartment was blasted over like the rest of the neighborhood. Just like the star she bought, the ring was only a form of symbolism in their relationship, but it was better than nothing.

After a long period of silence, Minji caresses her. “Save your energy, Yoo.” She presses a gentle kiss on her forehead.

Rushing back into consciousness, Yoohyeon decides to push through. She opens her eyes. Minji’s face is full of concern. Yoohyeon wishes she could simply wipe away all of her worries, but knows that’s only possible if she were to stay alive, so she tries to stay positive. “Minji, I did see stars that night though.” She reaches towards her girlfriend to caress her cheek. Even if this memory may be short-lived, she wants to ingrain it in her heart along with the other ones that she’s collected throughout the years. They longingly stare into each other’s eyes. “That night, throughout university, through this apocalypse, right now, I still see those stars.”

Minji doesn’t understand Yoohyeon. She doesn’t understand how she can be so gentle and poetic and caring and romantic at a time like this. She doesn’t understand how through all this pain, she tries her best to rid someone else’s.

It breaks Minji’s heart even more.

She grabs Yoohyeon’s hand and gently kisses each knuckle. At a time like this, she wishes she could give Yoohyeon every romantic phrase every language could offer, but when words fail her she does her best expressing herself physically. “I love you.” It’s the best thing she could muster up without falling apart. It’s short and sweet and doesn’t measure up to how she’s feeling, but she knows it’s enough.

Yoohyeon continues, “Your eyes were the first thing I fell in love with. I liked a lot of things about you, but once you finally confessed to me, I allowed myself to dangerously fall in love with you. Your eyes were the first of many things.”

It’s the tip of Minji’s emotional iceberg. Tears break free past her ducts. They don’t go far though. Yoohyeon won’t allow it. She knows Minji hates when that happens. She does her best wiping her tears with her thumb.

Actually, she understands why Yoohyeon is like this.

Just like her, loving her girlfriend was easier than loving herself. Loving Minji was easier than fighting for her own life.

What she doesn’t know is that Yoohyeon has been brainstorming this speech for years. It’s a shame because Yoohyeon wanted to say this at the altar with Minji and all their friends, not while she was bleeding out in a dead friend’s car with two of Minji’s roommates. It’s the best she can do in this apocalypse and as long as said apocalypse is going to last, she’s going to keep wishing she could give Minji the better they deserved.

Minji grabs her hand and kisses each knuckle again, this time a little more slowly and one by one. Yoohyeon is saddened by the fact that she can’t feel the sensation anymore.

The adrenaline is definitely running low. A wave of exhaustion hits Yoohyeon and she’s not sure if she can fight it anymore. “I love you.” Yoohyeon blurts out.

This time, Minji can muster up some words. “I love you, too, Kim Yoohyeon. I love everything about you. I love everything we’ve shared, even this damn apocalypse. I’ll love you ‘til the end of time, even if that may be sooner than later, but you deserve to hear it.” She continues peppering Yoohyeon’s hands with kisses. The words are still not enough, but she knows she needs to say it.

It’s bittersweet. The words are comforting, yet dampen her spirits. At least she knows that Minji will always be there for her. “Hold me?” Even if it were to be the last time?

After staring into each other's eyes for a moment, Minji looks down to check on Yoohyeon’s wound. The most recent bandage has a small peak of blood, but nothing as bad as Yoohyeon's initial gash. A little cuddling doesn’t seem to hurt.

She unbuckles her seatbelt and shimmies closer to Yoohyeon. Not wanting to move Yoohyeon too much, she wraps an arm around Yoohyeon’s shoulders and pulls her close.

They stare at the unmoving tower. It’s not as sparkly as the stars Minji promised that fateful night and Hyunjung’s yelling isn’t as romantic as cicada chirps, but with the way Minji holds her close and whispers her profession of love to her, Yoohyeon falls just like the first time.

#something about apocalypses and confessions #sad but a guilty pleasure #didnt want to post considering whats happening in other fandoms but ive been wanting to post this for a week so i hope yall understand #need to rid some angst #apocalypse au #open ending for now #angst #littlepanduh #365 challenge #jiyoo #jiu #yoohyeon #dream catcher #dreamcatcher fanfic #kpop fanfiction #littlepanduh heartbroken era #blood cw

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