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#thank god because i would not have built one myself
nectar-cellar · 2 years
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what’s this? a barbershop...? 👀
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always-andromeda · 2 months
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𝐝𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⟡ Ellie Williams x F!Reader
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ⟡ 1232
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⟡ You and Ellie enjoy an all-too-rare "quiet" moment with each other.
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ⟡ soooo...this is my first time writing something for Ellie...please be gentle lmao. I decided to be a little easy on myself and start off with something light with absolutely no plot. Just pure, fluffy porn. That being said, I want to add that from this point onwards, anything I write based in the TLOU universe, I will be including links on what we can do to aid Palestine. From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free.
HOW YOU CAN HELP PALESTINE
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⟡ smut (minors, do not interact, please and thank you), reader has no physical description aside from being afab and able-bodied, fingering (reader receiving), oral (reader receiving), pet names (babe, baby), slight overstimulation, general softness, nothing else I can think of!
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Early mornings suit you, Ellie decides. Especially when it's all cold and quiet and blue light as a thin layer of frost covers the outside of the window by her bed. You're both thankful that it obscures the view of any eyes that may have been peeking into Ellie's garage.
They would've seen you sprawled out on her mattress and Ellie slotted firmly between your legs, paying all sorts of attention to your thighs. And thank fucking god, you're the only one who can hear the filthy words that fall from that wonderful mouth of hers.
"You're so fucking soft, babe." Then she chuckles, "And so easy to work up."
Your thighs shiver with anticipation and you're far beyond the point of feeling any kind of shame about it. There's only urgency filling your chest as you hope that Ellie's teasing turns into something. It wouldn't be the first time that she'd spent so long on you that Jesse had to come and "wake her" for patrol.
Now that had been a special kind of torture: Ellie hoisting herself up off of you and yelling to Jesse that she'd be right out as she pulled on her hoodie and gathered her hair into a bun at the nape of her neck. She grabbed her backpack, kissed you on the forehead, and muttered, "See you tonight," with a cocky grin. Then she fucking left.
And you'd have to shake away whatever mounting pressure she'd built up inside of you and uncomfortably shuffle your way home in yesterday's clothes all while trying to avoid the watching eyes of Jackson's population. It felt like every ounce of deprivation was written on your face in those moments and you hated it.
So you thread a hand through her hair, gently urging her towards your cunt.
"Hey, hey, hey, I'm gettin' there," she teases and removes your hand.
“Now, please,” you whine.
But it’s no use. With a little laugh under her breath, she keeps peppering kisses along your bikini line. You know she relishes in it, listening to you gasp as she gets closer and closer to where you need her only to pull back moments before her lips could connect with your center.
She must be feeling nice this morning; she hasn’t admonished you for squirming or whining. Maybe it’s because she doesn’t have patrol today. Or maybe it’s because you spent hours after dinner the night prior relieving her stress as well. Or maybe it’s just the simple fact that quiet moments like these are rare. All you know is that you can handle it; you can handle her.
You ball up the sheets in your fists and adjust your hips ever so slightly, settling in for whatever Ellie has planned for you. She uses a finger to pull the thin cotton crotch of your underwear to the side and groans to herself.
She laughs, “I don’t even have to try and you’re soaked.”
You lift yourself up on your elbows to look down at her. “Imagine what would happen if you did try,” you quip.
“Tough talk for a girl in your position,” she says. Before you can give her another snarky reply, she licks a long stripe up the center of you. The sudden warmth is welcome but it still startles you. 
Ellie adds with a scoff, “Besides, I don’t need to imagine. I am well aware of what happens when I try.” With that, she eases a finger in you.
In and out, she patiently worked you open until asking, “Want another, babe?”
You give a breathy yes. A beat passes where you wait for her to request a please alongside it. But it never comes. She must be feeling really nice.
With a whine, you feel her slip that second finger in. She’s methodic, curling her lithe fingers with each pump and carefully itching an ache inside of you that begs to be scratched. Bit by bit, she only feeds the flame; only makes it climb higher and higher up your belly until it seems to burn at the back of your throat. That wet squelch between your legs intensifies as she fucks you faster. You let out a soft moan and Ellie curses under her breath.
“That’s right, baby. You’ve got it.”
You can’t quite see her expression but you can tell she’s got that smug smirk creeping across her face. It’s the face she makes when she can tell just how well she’s playing you.
Right then she decides to go for the kill. Her tongue flicks over your swollen clit in time with her scissored fingers and before too long, you’re chasing it. Rutting against her mouth, you follow that all consuming fire that burns away each and every one of your better senses. It craves nothing more than pleasure and the praise of the girl you love more than life itself.
Strangely, you don’t mind it. In another world, you could afford to be so needy and so selfish whenever you wanted. Perhaps that’s why you’re so drawn to the feeling now; to the fleetingness of it. It’s lightning in a bottle. And with the heat mounting, you feel ready to burst.
A string of wanton curses falls from your lips. Bones scorched with pleasure, you're quickly approaching the point where you’ll be nothing more than ash.
Ellie groans desperately against your cunt, “C’mon, give it to me. You’re almost there.”
That’s all you need to fall over the edge. You shatter as soon as your climax makes contact. You’re a mess of limbs. Legs wrapping around the woman attached to your cunt. Heels digging into her back, still chasing that endless more until it damn near hurts. Chest heaving as you start to realize that it never will be enough. But somehow, that’s alright. If it was enough, there’d be nothing left for her to give; nothing left to yearn. And you’d rather spend the rest of your life wanting her than wandering in oblivion.
Finally, the pleasure gets to be too much. You’re all but a pile of smoldering cinders, terrifyingly close to blowing away in the wind. You cry out and tap the side of Ellie temple, signaling the end of the
She quickly obliges and switches to pressing gentle kisses to your mound between whispered praises. Hands gripping your thighs, her thumbs swirl soothing circles to your trembling flesh. Her kisses work their way up your belly, between your breasts, across your collar, up to your lips.
“You alright?” she asks softly.
Your head still spins a bit but you manage a nod and a low hum which only makes her chuckle.
A thin layer of sweat on her forehead sheens in the light. The smattering of freckles you adore dance with the flush on her cheeks. Judging by the creases next to her eyes and the smile she wears, she’s languishing in how you look too.
“I sure did a number on you, huh?”
“A little,” you mutter. But you know you’re not fooling her.
Ellie settles at your side and weaves an arm behind your neck, loosely holding you to her. You stay like that for a few seconds; quietly intertwined.
You look up at her through your lashes and break the silence. “Love you, Els.”
She smiles and presses one last kiss to your nose. “Love you too, weirdo.”
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partycatty · 3 months
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older!johnny cage > overheard
you're caught in the act of swooning over your boss
notes: i'm not even fuckin playing i just woke up from my nap in a cold sweat with this idea haunting my mind so here i am. i truly honestly genuinely cannot stop thinking about dilf johnny and his thick fucking arms and how much i want him to [REDACTED]
[ masterlist ]
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• during your break from training, you managed to squeeze in a meal break with one of your closest friends. it was just the two of you, laughing and for once breaking the stoicism implanted into your demeanors from training ruthlessly.
• "jesus, commander cage really kicked our asses today," your friend whined, rolling her shoulder. "i get we're fighting against demons and elementals, but did we really need to run twenty miles?"
• "it wasn't all bad," you shrug, poking at your food. "we've done worse, i feel."
• "oh hush, you had the time of your life," your friend groaned, lightly pushing into your shoulder with a smirk. "you and johnny cage got to run beside each other in formation." your friend was sure to say his name in an announcer voice, wiggling her fingers as she pretended to read a large sign.
• you huff, planting a fist on the table as you try to conceal your embarrassment with faux anger. "oh my god shut up..."
• your mind wanders to earlier in the day. johnny decided to wear only a tank top instead of a long sleeve with a vest, giving you a delicious view of his arms as they pumped during the run. while you two didn't talk, he shared panting encouragements by your side, telling you you were doing so good and how much further you had left. it made running feel almost impossible as each word and grunt knocked the wind from you.
• "jesus, look at you," your friend laughs at your dreamy expression as you replay the memory. "you're down bad, girl, anyone and their mother could tell."
• "is it that obvious?" you murmur, burying your face with your hands. "i'm doomed."
• "nah, you might have a shot," she insists, pulling your hands from your face. "he might be into younger women, most celebrities are."
• "but he's not just a celebrity, he's our superior," you whine, rolling your head back. "i just watch his movies and pretend i'm the love interest."
• "oh, it's bad bad," she laughs, looking past you for a moment. her smile falters.
• "can you blame me? ugh," you rake a hand through your hair. "he's all muscle, he could just pick me up and snap me like a twig! normally i'd settle for height alone but holy fuck he's built like a brick fucking wall!"
• your friend falls silent.
• "and don't even get me started on his age," you point an accusatory finger. "he is 50 something and so fucking fine i can't even bring myself to focus on literally anything ever. i watched some of his old movies, and he literally aged like the finest fucking wine any vineyard has ever even dreamed of making! thank god his daughter is the commander because if he stood around and told me what to do i'd behave so much like a dog it would embarrass me. he is the god damn devil in disguise and i sure a shit don't have a single chance of him even looking in my direction with any more than a smile because at the end of the day i'm just a sad little recruit crushing on a guy who probably has a massive di—"
• "i'm fifty-nine," you hear a low, horrifyingly familiar voice in your ear. you can't even bring yourself to turn around, smile dropping and eyes widening. the only thing you can bring yourself to do is stare across the table at your friend, who's as equally still. maybe if you were still enough, he wouldn't see you. like a dinosaur.
• "lieutenant," you breathe out after a long silence, drunk on the smell of his cologne. "we were just... t-talking about you."
• "oh yeah?" his voice is rumbly, a teasing inflection making you want to burst out in tears. you had a faint suspicion he was behind you the entire time, something he confirmed before you could muster the strength to speak. "sounded more like it was just you."
• "well," you wonder if you can outrun him, stammering as you try to talk yourself out of this. "you know..."
• you finally get the courage to spin in your chair, turning around to face him. he's towering over your sitting form, a shit-eating smirk on his lips.
• "i'm sorry, sir, i'll... i'll do extra push-ups, i'll go overtime on training, scrub the toilets, anything to—"
• he holds a hand up, waving it away as he shakes his head slowly.
• "don't stress it," he stands up straight, crossing his arms. oh my god his arms. "but, uh... just a word, in my office, when you have the chance." you almost miss the wink he sends at you, but you caught it just as he spun on his heel and walked out, a cocky sway to his hips.
• you spin back around, slack jawed at your friend, who's red from holding in her scream of excitement.
• "he's totally gonna bang you on his desk," she finally spits out, covering her mouth immediately after. you just lower your head, hitting it against the table in defeat.
• who knows what he's gonna do to you in his office?
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punksocks · 1 month
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Warning Signs That You May Have A Toxic/Karmic Significant Other
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Hey everyone, you may have seen my recent post about breaking up with my ex partner after 5.5 years. If not, I’ve been deep in reflection after ending this relationship. My reasons for ending it were that he refused to seek professional help to manage his anger which would come out in constant outbursts of violence (not physical ab*se but hitting walls, kicking furniture, scarring my dog, etc) and his mental health in general. After breaking things off I analyzed our relationship and all the red flags became crystal clear in hindsight. This blog is not only my emotional space to reflect, but also a place to give out advice to make sure you guys feel less alone in the world. So I’ve compiled a list of behaviors that made it clear that in hindsight the relationship was destine to be toxic and could not continue. It’s important to take lessons from painful experiences in order to continue to grow, and that’s what I hope I can help with by sharing my experiences here:
(TW Manipulation, Distressing Themes, Emotional Ab*se)
- They hate your intuition: (they work to make you doubt whatever means you have of self guidance. Whether that’s tarot/astrology, or spirituality in general, or therapy, or your simple gut feelings/reactions to things. They hate them because they know that they’ll be singled out at some point by them so they work to make you not believe in yourself through manipulation/gaslighting. My ex would constantly say the tarot is going to tell me to break up with him, but he never really changed he’d just belittle it and say I was getting weird about spirituality and he’d try to make me doubt myself or choose between the tarot and him. When I asked him to go to therapy he would also say that he was worried the therapist would tell him to break up with me-implying I was the problem. When I would ask him to go anyway he would find a way to avoid it- saying it’s too expensive, too hard to find, he doesn’t have time, etc)
-They constant give you advice that puts you in harm’s way: (My ex always told me I was too quick to cut off people that threw me under the bus and that I was paranoid. When I found out my former business partner was being shady and stealing from me, he told me to keep working with her. I said I had to take things over. He said I had no chance of covering the expenses on my own and that he wasn’t going to help me at all even though he was working a consistent 9-5. I rationalized this as putting too much pressure on him to support me through my apprenticeship over the previous few months, even though by the time we were having this discussion I had picked up a seasonal 9-5 to compensate for starting the business. I still felt guilty because I was asking him to cover the rent at home while I built this business up. I ended up wracking up debt over trying to cover everything myself and he was telling me I was going to fail every step of the way. When I didn’t fail and the business remained open over a year later, he said he had always believed in me every step of the way.)
- They rewrite history (that’s the other thing- when I broke up with him he said it was his idea to open the studio in the first place. This was a lie. A bold one at that. At the time I would have had to become self taught due to dealing with several egotistical mentors (wow thematic) and I looked for positions in other studios and there were none. My ex told me I should “pause” my goals. I told him I’ll open up my own space with another artist. He had a long talking down to me about how we couldn’t afford any of that, and how impossible it was, etc. But I went through with it anyway, effectively doing all the work on my own. He constantly told me what I was doing was crazy. But I made success out of it, thank God. Now my ex is trying to take credit for the whole thing as if I don’t remember what happened. Audacious.)
- Instead of having their own dreams they focus on wearing yours down (I have so many big dreams I want to accomplish and every other idea I shared with my ex was pushed back on or breadcrumbed. I wanted to live abroad, he’d say it’s too expensive but maybe he could find a way to make it work if I stopped putting so much pressure on him. I took over my own business, he told me I shouldn’t do it and should quit while I’m ahead. He would always try to counter every idea I had with a “logical reason” of why it wouldn’t work. He would try to control me by doubting me and in turn trying to get me to doubt myself. I never actually listened to him in hindsight, and when I pushed through successfully he would pretend to have been on my side the whole time.)
-They always compare you to their exes, in bold ways (My ex would always go out of his way to bring up his past relationships. The examples and instances were never appropriate. But one of the first worst early examples was when we were at a show. My friend’s band was playing. In the middle of the set he decided to look up his ex on social media. I was clearly uncomfortable but he continued. Then when we’re talking he brought up a nickname she used to call him that was inappropriate. When I was upset by this he threw a shirt (merch gifted to him by my friend’s band) in the booth almost hitting me with it and he stormed off. He made himself seem like the victim in a situation where he was trying to bait me into starting a public argument and yet made me soothe him afterward.)
- The betrayal of not ever being believed (early on this was another giant red flag in hindsight. I’m black and I tried to explain colorism to him, while I was having a bad experience with it. He’s white and should have been listening and understanding with open ears. Instead he tried to argue me down for being “mean” to light skinned black people. In the experience I was talking about how a mixed femme at work established a boundary with our white bosses to try to avoid racist harm. They let the femme do this without any pushback. I tried to establish the same boundary in the same meeting and those white bosses accused me of actively refusing to do my job. I told my ex this was colorist and that’s when he argued with me about this. He didn’t believe my experiences until he googled “the right articles”. When I brought this up in the future he would say he was just trying to see all black people as equal. It was a pretty disgusting defense.)
- Throwing insults in your face about past trauma (I told my ex about how emotionally abusive my mother was (wow there’s that pattern again) and he would throw this in my face and blame me or compare me to her at the slightest provocation in several arguments. When I was disrespected at work, he would blame me for misinterpreting things. Complaining about how I used him for money whenever I had asked him for help managing the business’ expenses. And so many deep cuts of things he should never said to me and names he shouldn’t have called me if he ever cared about me. He always wrote it off as me misremembering or him meaning it as something else or a distraction tactic of whataboutism -‘what about when you complained that I left dirty clothes on the floor?’ For example. All ways he tried to manipulate me from seeing this pattern of messed up behavior. Every argument he would make us talk in circles until I would have to give up from frustration and exhaustion.)
-They’re full of hot air, and if they seem like they aren’t they’re probably mirroring you (when I broke up with him I stopped hanging out with him pretty much immediately. Although I had to coordinate moving out still, I started keeping my head down to focus on my work. Essentially I had already moved on. I thought we had had deep discussions about the world and life but when I had less to say he had nothing to add. He would just keep filling up the air with anecdotes about nothing and commentary on anything just to keep crossing my boundaries and to try to force me to pay attention to him when it was clear I neither interested or comfortable doing so.)
- They try to force you to become as cynical and jaded as they are (I was never antagonistic per se, but when we were together I had unconsciously started looking/preparing for the worst in every scenario and every person I’d meet. Because of my ex’s toxic influence. Getting along with coworkers? They must be just “kissing up to you” according to him. Like that tv show most people are fond of? No way that has to be trash. Want to try something new? No there can’t be anything good about that. He was a very stuck person that refused to find the joy in almost anything. Unless it was too impressive to ignore —but even then he had to nitpick it apart. I would wonder why his compliments would feel so hollow- it was because he really had trouble seeing the good in anything. Like a day or two after we broke up I was already feeling lighter and more optimistic. When people were kind to me I embraced it easier and in turn every aspect of life got a little brighter. The contempt for others was palatable. Because he expected everyone to be ready to undercut him like he was ready to do to them.)
- Before you know it, they’ll have you romanticizing breadcrumbing behavior (I asked my ex to get on meds for his mental health and to find a therapist so many times over the course of 5 years. 4-5 months before I broke up with him he got on medication. Then after a peace period of a month or so, we were back in a cycle of petty arguments and he was saying the meds don’t work. He didn’t even try to go to therapy until I broke up with him. he got an appointment the next day because he “was trying to win me back” Essentially, he’d never work on himself or actually actively improve things. He’d always make one or two half steps to placate me then complain about how it was too hard and completely impossible to put the work in. Even with the therapy example, he wanted to display that he could make progress in order to win me back. Don’t worry, I had seen this tactic before and knew he would just fall back into toxicity. So, it didn’t work.)
- When you do leave they get cocky about how you’ll have nowhere to go (I leaned on my ex to support me when I became overwhelmed by figuring out my business on my own. I worked several temp jobs in addition to the business but it was stretching me thin. So I needed his help several times and only had so much saved up by the time I broke up with him. After begging me to take him back the entire night and pretending to be supportive, the next day he was scoffing and boasting about how “[he] didn’t even know what [I] was going to do.” He did this over everything from buying my own detergent-even though I always bought the detergent- to managing my bills on my own-even though I usually managed most of my bills on my own- until I finally was able to move out and leave him behind.)
- They never defend you and always make it seem like it’s your fault if you get attacked (My ex was always siding with abusive people and gaslighting me when I noticed that behavior. As many of you may know, my mom was a terror throughout my childhood. I confided in my ex about how much of an impact this had had on me. Before I went no contact with her we all got dinner when she came in town to see me. Despite all my warnings and preemptive begging to be supported through the difficulty of meeting with her my ex threw me under the bus immediately. He laughed at her jokes at my expense and didn’t stop her at all from singling me out. I shutdown in this moment and began to draw to cope- I’m neurodivergent so that’s one of the things I default to doing when I’m overwhelmed. They continued to make fun of me together and when I asked him why he didn’t have my back afterward, he blamed me for “not being friendly enough” and “not interacting with [my] mom enough”. This pattern of doubting and failing to help me would continue through our entire relationship.)
- They’ll have -self aware- moments that aren’t quite what they seem (I truly cannot count the number of times my ex would start an argument just to talk me in circles then try to get me to believe I was in the wrong too. It was truly maddening. He would always push to say he “understood” how we had gotten there. Then ramble on and on and on saying that I was attacking him and he was the victim of things. I asked him to do the dishes? I’m “criticizing [his] housework and putting too much pressure on [him]”. I ask him not to throw things when he’s upset? I’m “overly criticizing [him] and making [him] so anxious he can’t help but hit things”. And on and on and on it went. He would always tidy it up by saying he forgave me because we were “both wrong” and he just “would try to be better next time and [I] should too”.)
-They have underlying personality issues that need to be addressed (and when you bring a hint of these up, they lash out about how you’re attacking them and they throw personal attacks back at you because of their fragile ego. If you -somehow- get them to see a mental health professional you may find them lying about what feedback they got. After I broke up with him he said he’d go to anger management class and find a therapist “to win me back”- funny how it’s after you leave them and set the ultimate boundary they do the work to show you they can hypothetically change and it’s never one of the times you’ve begged before in the midst of madness. Before I moved out I overheard his therapy appointment and she asked about his bipolar diagnosis and he said he was just anxious despite the mood swings. When he came to me to tell me the good news of him finally going to therapy he left that out. When I asked if the therapist knew if he had another disorder he manipulated that. He said the therapist asked if it could be anything else but it was just a brief thought. He framed it that way instead of the consistent behavioral issue it was.)
- Usually they attract drama and chaos but blame you for it as their partner (He always kept his ex around in boundary crossing ways. In hindsight I wouldn’t be surprised if he had cheated in any way with any of them because of how murky he was about spending one on one time with them. They also will always encourage you to keep other toxic people in your life so they can keep flying under the radar/blaming the other toxic people when you feel drained/etc. When I decided to go no contact with my parents, he second guessed me. When I decided to go no contact with my friends that were harmful, he second guessed me. He went out of his way to call me paranoid and picky and every other name in the book he could. Even after I broke up with him he went out of his way to tell me I was paranoid and should quit tarot reading “because [he] knew it would turn [me] against [him] one day”. I told him his opinion meant less than nothing to me.)
- Whenever you set a boundary they try to undermine it and take it as an attack (When we met, all of my ex’s small circle of friends was made up of people he had dated or slept with. Once his friend, who had flirted with him multiple times, asked to stay in his apartment while she moved out of her place. He offered her his bed. She even had a boyfriend at the time but she went to my ex first. I told him this made me very uncomfortable. He screamed and yelled about how he’ll always choose his friends first and I have to understand that and that she didn’t want to sleep in his bed while he was in it. It was crazy but the whole time he called me dramatic and made me feel insane for being so uncomfortable with it.)
- They may often act out in public over the littlest things (my ex would get absolutely infuriated when there were lines in places. Insane right? Especially living in cities? with other people? And yet whenever we went out I’d have to prepare my mental for the possibility of him getting angry and breaking down because people were waiting ahead of him in line. In hindsight the entitlement he had was overwhelming in itself. The last time we went out to a movie -which was a whole scheduling fiasco in of itself with him during our entire relationship, he was obsessed with movies. I like movies but spending 6-9 hours in a theater? Every week? On top of hours of mandatory movie viewing at home? It was exhausting. He also made me pay for my own monthly movie pass even though it was his thing. Even in covid, although I’m immunocompromised I had to negotiate with him to wait to get vaccinated before he went back to the theater. And to wear a mask in the showings. He would huff and fuss about those small courtesies the entire time. Anyway the last movie we went out to see had a long line but we bought tickets ahead of time. He pitched a fit and kept storming off away from me and threatening to leave over the line. I kept following him foolishly, and coaxed him into staying. Of course there were enough seats and of course he enjoyed the movie. He apologized after for “getting overwhelmed by the line” but that shouldn’t have happened in the first place.)
- It’s all or nothing for them but breadcrumbs for you (I’ve always been clear that I have no plans of staying in the country I’m from. From the start I’ve understood I’m not meant to stay here. And yet I stayed in a city I hated so he could suddenly finish his associates degree. We moved back to my hometown but we lived in the most stressful neighborhood because he “wanted to be downtown with a pool.” He would always complain about every single idea I had to leave the country. I’m thinking about doing a language school or artist residency? He “did long distance with [his] ex who cheated and it would be too hard”. I want to study this language and go to this -easy-place for a visa? He “kept forgetting to study and had no idea how we would ever afford the move.” And on and on it went until I simply gave up on trying to get him to step up.)
- They twist everything to be about them even grief (my grandma was like a mother to me, so it hit me hard when she died. She even told me she was going and thanked me for my friendship at the end. It was still a very difficult period and I couldn’t accept it until it just happened. When I got the call and burst into tears my ex said “I’m so sorry… do you blame me because we stayed here for me to go to school and you couldn’t be home with her?” It hadn’t even been 20 minutes since I learned she was gone. The extent of his selfishness would shock me until I cut him off.)
- They make you bury things they don’t like about your self expression/goals (I’ll use a simple example. I love fairy lights. When we met I had fairy lights and my ex had no complaints. But when we moved in together they ‘would always bother him and give him headaches’. So I took out the lights. Then he got me a glowing lamp I wanted for my birthday but never allowed me to turn it on when we were in the room. I brought the lights I love to my work and my ex would complain about them there too. He’d say he didn’t know why he “just didn’t like spending time at the studio” and then use the lights as an excuse, and then hed complain all day about how exhausting it was to be there. He’d only offer to come to the studio more if I turned them off just for him. All this time later and all of a sudden I don’t have any lights I like up. This didn’t happen for everything, but there were a lot of little things he was so controlling about just to be authoritative about something I liked.)
- They hate it when you have positive things happen to you (and instead of seeing your success as a good thing they see it as you one upping them, so they often express jealousy and then disguise it as a joke. He would “joke” about how I was going to fail so often I lost count. When I had a great day there would always be a hint of disappointment in his voice. He would always undermine it in anyway he could. “Oh you made X amount that’s nice, but that’s not enough to cover the rent”. I got a lot of compliments on my outfits, so he’d say “no one ever compliments me”. Always something to bring me down and try to get me to focus on a worry.)
- They downplay your trauma (I’m a burn survivor. My dad burned me through hot water and neglect as a baby on around 20% of my body. For that and many other reasons I became sort of a local legend for my time in our local child protective services. In a city of well over a million people. Doctors thought I wouldn’t be able to walk again and it was a miracle when I did. My grandmother had to wrap my scars everyday, twice a day for 3-4 years afterwards. She would tell me the pain would make me cry random throughout the night until I went to kindergarten. All that to say, my scars had a BIG impact on my health and my life. When I told my ex about my insecurity he said “sorry that happened, but it’s not that big of a deal.” Crazily at 21 I took that as flattery. It was not, it was severely downplaying the trauma I went through because my ex didn’t care for that part of my life. I even remember thinking I should tag a post as a burn survivor and he said “isn’t that like advertising your burns, why warn people about it?”. I got better and embraced my scars all through my own healing but damn it was all severely fucked up.)
- They usually have a Fatal Flaw they try to make you contend with (My ex had explosive anger where he would hit something (a wall, the couch, his desk, etc) or throw things at any slight provocations, and he would disguise it as a reaction of low self esteem instead. I didn’t realize how bad the conditioning had got until I broke up with him and I wasn’t getting jumpy from him coming home anymore or my dog wasn’t hiding from him anymore. I was walking on eggshells all the time and I only knew it subconsciously. He would also curse at me and call me the meanest names from the smallest arguments, he would get belittling. It’s their signature style to make you feel small and to desensitize you to truly nightmarish behavior.)
- That’s the other thing- most people and sometimes animals can tell they’re off (I would always wonder why my ex never seemed to make a good impression on others. They could tell he was off from the start.)
- They start trying to love bomb you after you give up or when they sense you are finally giving up (I always asked my ex to pay more attention to my business/endeavors/art/etc when we were together, to respond to texts I sent him at work-within reason-, to give me some support or feedback. His replies were always blasé. “That’s nice.” Or “I will.” As soon as I broke up with him. He was complaining that he always missed texting me at work. Then he started getting more involved on my social media pages. Then for the first time in months he watched my story on Instagram completely unwelcomed and unprompted. It was how fake the performance of interest was that really struck me after everything.)
- They always ask for one more chance when you’ve given them at least a hundred chances (Evem when I broke up with him he kept saying “you cut off other people (for being toxic) but I never thought it would be me!” I feel like I’ve already put plenty of examples of this, so I’ll just say this points to the fact that at their base motivation they don’t really respect you or care about you. If someone actually cares about you, they’re going to go out of their way to make you comfortable, to care about your opinions and feedback, from the very start)
- Even when it’s over, they still always try to blame you for their bad behavior. (My ex painted himself as an introvert when he was in a relationship. I had always asked him to make -newer, healthier- friends and to make a social effort. Since the beginning. After we broke up he made an effort to go out to social events. After he went out one day he came back and said “I was such a girlfriend guy, I never went out and socialized!” In turn I said you’re not a girlfriend guy you never cared about what I had to say, if you were a girlfriend guy I wouldn’t have had to break up with you for literally never taking me into account. So that ended that.)
- When it’s over the relief hits you in waves (I didn’t even realize how much I was doing to cope with the hostility and boredom of the relationship until it was over. I stopped overeating, I actually lost my appetite for days. I went from taking edibles every week to not even craving the ones I had. I wasn’t the most indulgent but I was shocked by how immediately I was fine with going cold turkey. My time with myself became even more peaceful. Even before I moved out, I was more creative and productive. I felt the beauty and the optimism of all the little moments deep in my spirit and my glow was brighter than ever before. My ex kept turning to me in despair and asking “how can you be so okay with this??” I answered him indifferently because he wasn’t worth entertaining. But obviously my spirit had been restored, I wasn’t wasting love on anyone that didn’t deserve it anymore. My energy was finally all mine. And I had faith in God that everything would be alright. And it was.)
You slowly but surely realize that you were formed to be a victim of a narcissistic/antagonistic person due to being raised by narcissistic parents and in an environment full of enabling emotionally and verbally abusive behavior. When we met I was so vulnerable. I had moved to a new city on my own, I was in a financially precarious place. The city was The Worst for Black people (tm). I was so desperate for an ally, I caught an energy vampire instead. I’ve healed and learned a lot from this. To be much more deliberate about who I let into my life. To be unafraid of purging and moving on when someone shows you they’re incapable of growth. To not accept crumbs of affection and appreciation. To pour my love into myself first before I let anyone else do the same. So I write all this to say, it’s not your fault. It’s not your fault that some people are so corrupted to the core that they’d rather destroy you than heal themselves. So… forgive yourself for this experience. Forgive yourself for being a person that just loves and cares about others. That believes in cultivating a world full of warmth and compassion. Don’t let one (or a dozen- ugh the people I’ve had to move on from oml) toxic ass person ruin you and your compassion. I had to forgive myself for believing in a lot of disappointing, inept, bad people. But I won’t stop being kind and compassionate because of those losers. I’ll continue to shine my light on those who need it whenever I’m supposed to. I mean I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to rely on anyone again without fear of their self interest but one step at a time, I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.
Anyway, wish me luck on this fresh start. Buy a reading if you want to support me. But yeah, thanks for reading y’all.
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istoleyoursk1n · 5 months
Note
Hello! I know I just requested something else, but I also have another request if you're up for it 🥰 How about all of the companies with a s/o who's really short and wears a lot of layers but it's later revealed that they're absolutely ripped and ridiculously muscular but nobody would have expected it? I think it'd be hilarious to see everyone go "Holy cow you could crush my head if you wanted to 😯"
Thank you so much again!!
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How would they react to a Tav who wears a lot of layers but is secretly ripped
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: ̗̀➛ ASTARION
“So you’re telling me the little garden gnome could have manhandled half of us if they wanted to? Gods. Am I to be thanking you for sparing me and my pretty skin unscathed all this time?”
Probably the one making fun of your height and holding things up above you so you couldn't reach them.
He didn't really see you as anything he should be threatened by so he figured he could get away with a lot.
Besides you never really tried to fight back most of the time so he found his own little source of entertainment with his playful little jabs at you.
Was very much startled when you shook those layers off to reveal your muscular frame, he didn't expect it at all. You didn't even look strong in his eyes, until now at least.
Suddenly he’s wondering why you haven't once tried to punch him in the face after the amount of times he's poked fun at you.
Do not punch his face though (0/10) would not recommend, he bites.
Questions why you even bother to hiding yourself in layers upon layers of clothing? Is it some sort of deceptive tactic he wasn't aware of? (It probably wasn't but he’s appalled that you’d even hide something like this).
Other than that, he's impressed. Who knew you were hiding your own raw strength behind layers of clothing? Quite the sight for sore eyes if he does say so himself.
Encourages you to show it off more often, who needs all those rags when you have such an impressive build?
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: ̗̀➛ WYLL
“Hells, to think that behind all those rags was the body of a true warrior! Safe to say that I’ll never be doubting your abilities again.”
Truthfully found you rather adorable since you were considered the shortest among the rest of your travelling companions.
You seemed harmless enough, but, he never once believed that you were completely fragile because of it.
However, there were times when he’d often do tasks that you knew you were perfectly capable of handling yourself over the fact that he was unaware of your true strength.
There have been a lot of times when he jumped in front of you during battles, worried that you couldn't handle it yourself.
However, the shock that appeared on his face once all those layers were shaken off was priceless.
He might have been a little bit embarrassed as well seeing as how he might have underestimated you a tad bit which knew could be quite undermining on your end.
Immediately voices his initial surprise and how amazed he is that you seem to look as fit if not even more so than him.
You look amazing! And he wishes you could leave all the layers more often if it's something you are comfortable with of course.
You knew he was already quite fond of you but now wistful glances from him would come as often as possible in pure admiration of your raw strength. Safe to say he’d never be underestimating your capabilities again.
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: ̗̀➛ GALE
“It seems that until now, I find myself learning new information about you… though, I must say, you possessing a rather athletically built figure wasn't one of them. Not to say I don’t appreciate the way you look.”
Wasn't quite sure why you were wearing that many layers of clothing. The weather was already relatively hot and still, you insisted on wearing such things.
I mean, as long as you are comfortable and happy with them he didn't seem all too bothered by it.
Found you endearing in his own way, seeing as he would often find himself craning his neck or having to bend his body to meet your eye level but it made it all the more amusing for him.
Similar to Wyll, he found himself underestimating your true abilities as you truly appeared harmless in his eyes. Sure, if you had to kill a goblin for your own survival you would but you didn't exactly give off brutish vibes.
Even so, that never made him find your company any less enjoyable.
Though, he was quite startled when your true form was revealed, and all those extra layers of clothing were taken off from you. He wasn't even sure if he was looking at the right person.
One moment you appeared as innocent and delicate as could be only for you to actually have the body of someone who's probably more physically capable than him.
You've probably given him another reason as to why he admires you all too much. The new look on you is a tad bit distracting for him and Gale can't manage to hide how smitten he is for the life of him.
If anything, now you’re all the more distracting to him, and it takes him a while to break out of that haze he's put himself in.
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: ̗̀➛ KARLACH
“Fucking hell, all the things I could have known about you but I never thought it would be this! You’re absolutely ripped! A badass body for one of the coolest people I know.”
Was practically squealing from how adorable you looked, especially in comparison to her towering height. You were like a little puppy in her eyes.
She couldn't understand why you’d wear so many layers of clothing, it's not like it was cold, and she knew that if she were to try that herself she’d feel uncomfortable as all hell.
But she won't press on it, as long as you are okay with it then wear as much as you wish.
The moment she was able to touch you, she was off carrying you around. She had wanted to pick you up for the longest time but she didn't understand why you felt slightly heavier than she thought you would be.
Perhaps it's all the extra layers of clothing? Either way, she didn't care. As long as she got to mess around with her favorite travel companion then what the hell.
Freaked out the moment you actually revealed how ripped you are beneath all the rags. You were practically as muscular as her.
It only seemed to excite her more because now she's fawning over how amazing you look and what you did to make your body look like this.
You've only grown to be ten times more awesome in her eyes and to see you use your true strength makes her swoon. She couldn't have chosen a better companion to have alongside her.
Suddenly the extra weight she felt carrying you made a lot more sense. Not that she’ll ever complain. Even with the newfound information, she’ll never stop lifting you up in her arms for the fun of it.
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: ̗̀➛ SHADOWHEART
“I suppose there's more to be known about you, isn't there? I was not expecting you to be as fit as you are but I can't say it isn't something I’d find myself grow tired of seeing.”
She didn't think much about the extra layers of clothing you wore other than it being for comfort or aesthetics. She's not one to care much for it.
You've been a helpful and valuable member of the group thus far, she saw no reason to underestimate you even in terms of strength.
It was rather amusing to have you around as a much shorter companion than her.
It wasn't something she ever mentioned or poked fun of but the coy little smile on her face revealed just how much she found the height difference amusing.
She was pleasantly surprised the moment you revealed just how muscular you truly are, even with her insight she never would have expected it.
Regardless, she's impressed with your stature, knowing that obtaining such a form would have taken a long time to have.
With or without all the layers, she still thinks you’re pleasing in her eyes, and whether you choose to use that undeniable strength is all up to you.
Though, she will take a moment to admire you while she can. She’d never force you to quit using layers of clothing but looking at you when you’re like this has its own appeal.
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: ̗̀➛ LAE’ZEL
“Just when I thought we’d have to eliminate you for your lack of use. Chk, perhaps I was wrong about you, istik. Consider my blade unsheathed for now.”
Practically disregarded you at first. You seemed so weak in her eyes that she wasn't even sure what assistance you’d provide for her.
She finds the layers upon layers of clothing unnecessary and it isn't practical when charging into battle. She's told you to leave it multiple times to your dismay.
Unless you have done something to prove that you are fairly capable of handling your own battles, she's very blunt about how incapable you seem to her.
It's even worse if you’re short cause she just has more aspects of you to undermine you with.
She’ll come off as really mean but that's mostly due to how she was raised. She can easily spot disadvantages and she won't hesitate to point out each one, especially if you two aren't close.
Was genuinely shocked to see you without the layers and what your true strength truly holds. She would have taken all those demeaning words the moment you've proved yourself.
Besides, seeing you in your true glory probably woke something up in her.
She's infatuated by strong, powerful warriors and seems that you fit the bill.
You were everything she thought you weren't and she’d come to realize just how wrong about you she was. You could have probably even sparred against her if only she had given you the proper chance.
She’d come around to actually apologizing for her earlier jabs at you sooner or later but she truly has gained a newfound respect for you. You’ll never find her insulting you again.
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: ̗̀➛ HALSIN
“You’re full of surprises, aren't you? Perhaps you never truly needed my protection, you've been blessed with a body that I’m certain nature itself worked tirelessly to perfect. However, I stand at your side in case you wish for any assistance.”
Thought nothing much of your extra layers of clothing. If anything it made you look all the more adorable in his eyes.
You could tell he was already enamored by you every time you had to look up to him to speak, the smile on his face never seemed to have disappeared.
He was probably extra protective of you under the assumption that you weren't as strong as the rest. Not that it was something he considered to be bad, but he wanted to make sure you wouldn't get hurt.
He’d end up doing most of the fighting for you, insisting that he's got it handled even though you knew you were capable of fighting the rest off yourself.
Regardless, it wasn't unpleasant to have Halsin come in to protect you despite your capabilities, it showed how much he cared.
He was startled when you showed your body beneath all the layers of clothing, even having to take a few seconds to stare as if he couldn't believe it.
This only seemed to make him all the more interested in you now that his eyes managed to catch a glimpse of the skin underneath all those rags, it was a sight that he would have imprinted into his mind.
Nevertheless, he will never underestimate you again but he’ll always be there in case you still wish for his protection. He could never say no to you.
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matchamilkislover · 5 months
Text
White Horse, 2. (a.a.)
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pairing: knight!abby x princess!reader
cw: fantasy!au, fem!reader, a tiny bit of blood mentioned, eventual displays of fighting and violence bc it’s fantasy, kind of slow burn?, tension, reader has an attitude, tall af!abby bc size difference, royalty!au, mentions of arranged marriages, some mentions of au politics, abby in armor is a warning in itself
synopsis: you are the youngest princess of the royal family that rules over your kingdom, Aphrynia. now a young adult, you’ve come of age in a tense time, and your personal protection is of utmost importance — which is why the resignation of your previous personal knight means a rushed reassignment ceremony with little to no preface. That being said, why does the name of your new knight sound so familiar?
word count: 3.67k
a/n: this is a kinda slow and really dialogue-heavy chapter but i’m still giggling and kicking my feet, i am so excited for the rest of the story omllll (it’s my own story i have to write it myself but i’m also delulu)
you can read part 1 here!
⊹ ⋆。˚ ————————— 𓆩♡𓆪 —————————⊹ ⋆。˚
Clapping resounded in the large room, but you paid the sound no attention. Yours and Abby’s gazes were still locked on each other, like you were caught in a dance to see who would break away first. Finally, she gently kissed the top of your hand and released it, standing to tower over you with her tall, built form. The simple kiss on your hand made your heart speed up unexplainably, and you swallowed and quickly pulled it down to your side, burying your hands in the skirts of your gown. Abby’s gaze, however, was still locked on you, and you looked down and then around the room to avoid her gaze. What in the world was going on?
Realizing that everyone else in the room had moved on from the ceremony and started milling about, you too decided that it was time to go, clearing your throat before stepping out of place to find Nina. Abby opened her mouth and looked like she was about to reach out and say something to you, but was interrupted by members of the court starting to swarm and try to steal her attention. Thank god, you thought to yourself, dashing away before court members could swarm you, too.
A hand suddenly fell on your shoulder as your eyes searched the room for your lady’s maid, and you cursed in your head, turning to see which Lord or Lady (or worse, daughter or son) had gotten their claws into you. You would’ve breathed a sigh of relief when you saw that it was one of your own siblings if it wasn’t George.
“If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you’d just seen a ghost, little sister,” he teased, that shit-eating grin of his spreading across his face. You just rolled your eyes and turned to face him.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, George,” you lied, brushing his hand off your shoulder and crossing your arms. He laughed.
“Oh sure. She’s the one you always attended lessons with, right? Yeah, she was fun,” he replied casually.
“If by fun you mean insufferable, then sure,” you retorted. “Please, you only liked her because she supported your shenanigans.”
He lifted his hands humorously. “Hey, you got me there. It’s nice to feel appreciated once in a while.” You sighed and started visually searching the room again, hangover still leaving you in a mood not quite fit for George’s lovely personality.
“I’m sure it is. But you’re a big boy, so if you could entertain yourself so I can get away from this lovely conversation, that would be great,” you finally huffed and quickly strode away, back on the hunt for Nina. Finding her meant finding breakfast and a nice rant session. And, you thought as your head throbbed again, a lot of water.
“There you are!” A familiar voice squealed as you moved about the cavernous room. You instantly smiled.
“Oh, Nora, thank goodness,” you squealed back as your eyes landed on your friend approaching just from your left. The two of you met with joining hands, squeezing comfortably.
“Are you alright? You looked entirely shocked to see Knight Anderson up there,” Nora inquired, her brows furrowing in concern. You sighed for what felt like the millionth time on this already exhausting day.
“I’m fine, I just didn’t really expect to see her, that’s all,” you replied, trying your best to brush off the way your heart pounded in your chest. You really wished it would stop that. Nora suppressed a knowing smile.
“She’s certainly changed a lot, hasn’t she,” Nora noted with waggling eyebrows.
“Nora,” you gasped, fighting the urge to smile with her. “You know good and well my opinion of her, so you can stop that now!” Though it felt genuine to you, your retort was unconvincing, and Nora simply rolled her eyes.
“Are you seriously still hung up on that? It’s been what, 8 years?”
“9,” you interrupted. “It’s been 9.” Nora rolled her eyes again.
“Close enough. If you want to hold a grudge, that’s fine by me, but I am going to enjoy this while I can,” she teased, sauntering away as you gasped again and feigned reaching out to hit her playfully as she walked away.
Finally, you spotted Nina waiting patiently for you near the edge of the room and let out a breath of relief. You approached her quickly, and her face lit up as you neared, feeling much less awkward when she was with you rather than being alone as a lady’s maid without her princess. You easily hooked your elbow with hers as you took a spot next to her, desperate to seem too occupied to socialize with anyone else.
“Can we please get out of here?” You begged through the clenched teeth of your plastered smile, nodding gracefully to people who passed you like nothing was wrong. Nina almost giggled.
“Yes of course, princess,” she replied, the two of you stepping forward and turning to the door.
“Why does everyone keep giggling at me?” You questioned, again through clenched teeth.
“Excuse me for my bluntness, but your reaction to Knight Anderson was quite entertaining,” she replied, still suppressing giggles.
“My reaction? What reaction?! I was under the impression my face was quite neutral, thank you!” You replied in a way that was almost offended.
“You just seemed quite surprised to see her, is all,” Nina explained gently. “I highly doubt someone who doesn’t know you well would have noticed, princess,” she reassured as the pair of you finally approached the large doors that would lead you out of this blasted throne room.
“It’s not my fault no one told me she of all people would be my new knight! You would be caught off-guard too if you were me!” You retorted, trying to keep your voice to a whisper despite your urge to raise it.
“All I’m saying, princess, is that-” Nina’s reply was cut off by a voice ringing out over the chatter of the crowd to you.
In terms of the aftermath of the ceremony for Abby, it was certainly a wave of attention — attention she didn’t want even one bit, especially when the only person she really wanted to talk to was you. Judging by your reaction, you certainly hadn’t been expecting to see her. Hell, she hadn’t been expecting to see you either until maybe 10 days ago. But it seemed like no one had bothered to inform you that she would be your new knight.
“Knight Anderson?” a voice asked, bringing Abby out of her thoughts and back to the many people surrounding her in the throne room.
“Hmm?” She replied, clearly having zoned out and not heard whatever the woman had said. She was quite a sight to take in, with gaudy clothing and a tight, pointed face. The woman smiled, but it looked more like a sneer.
“Oh, I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Lady Ulfrid, I’m new here as well. I was just wondering, Queen Arabella spoke quite highly of your accomplishments, and it must be so for you to be a personal knight for her youngest daughter. What might these so-called accomplishments be, I might ask?” Lady Ulfried sneer-smiled again, and this time, Abby couldn’t help but feel like Abby saw the expressions just as they were. She was questioning her.
Raising an eyebrow, Abby let a smirk dance on the corners of her mouth and adjusted her stance. “Well, I was top of my class in training, but that’s not the answer you’re looking for, is it? So what would you like to hear about? The battles I led in our recent land conflicts with Chryiont? Or the ones I led 2 years ago in Dungard? Or was it my successful takedown of the great Pirate Duke? You’ll need to be more specific, my lady,” Abby replied with a knowing smile, satisfied by the woman’s widening eyes.
“Oh, well, I- I just meant, um-, well,” Lady Ulfrid floundered, and it satisfied something a little sadistic within Abby. She was tired of being questioned because of her age, much less her gender, and it felt nice to make people who questioned her then question themselves instead.
“Don’t worry,” she replied, cutting off the woman and leaning down to her height. “I think I know exactly what you mean.” She smirked, and stood back to full height as Lady Ulfrid’s face reddened and she sped away from the knight, muttering something incoherent under her breath.
Turning to scan the rest of the room with her hands clasped behind her back, Abby suddenly realized that talking to Lady Ulfrid had made her lose sight of you. Last she saw, you were talking with one of your court friends — Nora, was it? — and now you had completely disappeared. Something about this felt oddly familiar. Right as she thought she caught a flash of your dress — god, that dress made you look something unearthly — another person tapped on her arm, and she nearly groaned before turning and seeing who it was.
“Long time no see, huh Anderson?” George asked with a sheepish grin, pulling her in for a one-handed hug. Abby grinned back and returned the hug gladly.
“Too long,” she replied easily. “But you know, I don’t think I can condone your shenanigans now,” she continued teasingly. George laughed with a wide, open mouth, patting Abby on the arm.
“Yeah, well, I’ll just have to figure out a way around you,” he replied jokingly.
Abby chuckled and shook her head. Suddenly remembering that she had been looking for you, she snapped to attention, scanning the room quickly. Finally, she spotted you nearing the exit with your lady’s maid, and she patted George on the arm as a farewell before starting after you.
“Princess!” She called, nearly jogging across the room and swiping between different huddles of people. “Princess!”
Your smile dropped when you heard Abby calling after you. Shit. While you stood there trying to accept that Abby Anderson would be constantly on your heel from now on, Abby caught up, slowing to stop and face you. You looked at her, expecting her to say something, but she just stared back.
And you both kept staring.
Looking at her felt like seeing a dear old friend and someone entirely foreign to you all at the same time. Like two winds hitting you from opposite directions, pushing the breath out of your lungs and filling them back up all in one motion. She was so different but so familiar, it made you want to both run away and never leave her presence all at once. You didn’t even realize you were staring, studying her like art in a museum, until Nina loudly cleared her throat beside you.
Whoops.
You came to a start and also cleared your throat awkwardly, nodding to Abby as a delayed greeting as you shared an uncomfortable look with Nina. “Well, uh…I, we…it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” You remarked awkwardly. This was already going terribly.
“It has,” Abby confirmed with a nod. You pursed your lips.
“Well, uh, I suppose we should get going, shouldn’t we, princess?” Nina asked timidly, looking at you with wide eyes.
“Oh, yes, of course,” you replied quickly, nodding and turning with Nina to return on course to your chambers.
You grimaced uncomfortably in Nina’s direction, and she returned the look apologetically. Abby looked like she had wanted to say something else, but instead bit her tongue and followed the two of you silently. The walk through the corridors was painfully quiet, you unconsciously straining to listen to the sound of Abby’s footsteps behind your own, hyper aware of her proximity to you. For someone who called her despicable the last time you had seen each other, you were certainly strangely invested in even the smallest movements of Abby Anderson.
Once you and Nina were safely inside your chambers, with Abby standing in place just outside your door, you flopped into a chair, rubbing your forehead. “This day has got to be some twisted sort of dream,” you moaned, slipping off your shoes one at a time. Nina simply suppressed a giggle and shushed you.
“These walls are not as thick as you wish them to be,” she reminded you in a hushed voice, perching in a chair adjacent to yours while she awaited your breakfast request. You pouted and sighed.
“I truly don’t understand why nobody told me she would be my new knight! I mean, she disappeared the day after we had our millionth argument 9 years ago, and now, out of the blue, she’s going to be right behind me 24/7? Guarding me? Protecting me like someone’s out for my blood? It’s just…fucking insane!” You whisper-yell, frustration bubbling over now that it was just you and Nina. Well, and Abby, waiting just outside the door.
Nina sighed, knowing that she should try to make you feel better, even though she couldn’t help but agree with how you felt. “The queen does what she does for a reason, I’m sure. With you being young and the whispers I hear from the other servants, I’m not surprised she wants a trusted eye on you,” she replies in a quiet voice. You take a deep breath and close your eyes, nodding.
“I know, I know. It’s just frustrating that not a single soul ever bothers to tell me anything. I mean, I would have really liked a warning that the girl I basically grew up with was not only returning to the palace as a knight, but my personal knight, and, to make matters worse, she looks like—” you gesture wildly to the door, “—that! How am I supposed to deal with that!?” you exclaim, your whisper lifting a little. Nina starts giggling uncontrollably, and after a minute you join her, if only because of the sheer ridiculousness of the situation.
“I think,” Nina says, taking a deep breath once her giggles finally subside, “that some breakfast and a lot of water might help make you feel better, hmm? Maybe a tonic from Dr. Anderson?” Nina offers kindly.
“Yes, please, you’re a saint, Nina,” you reply, rubbing your forehead again as the throbbing pushes forward. “But, no tonic, actually, please—I can’t handle being embarrassed by asking Abby’s father for a hangover cure the first day she returns, I think I might keel over from sheer embarrassment,” you finish with a groan. Nina chuckles and nods, standing from her perch.
“Whatever you say, princess,” she says with a pat on your shoulder. “I’ll be back soon.” With that, she pushes the door open and exits the room, mumbling an awkward greeting to Abby that makes you cringe from sheer discomfort.
Sighing, you look around at the chaos that is your room after this morning’s rushed preparation activities, and decide that the least you can do even with this raging hangover is make your bed. You stand determinedly and approach the bed, pulling back layer after layer neatly to then arrange each one on top of the last. It’s a bit awkward with the shuffling of your dramatic skirt around the edge of the opulent bed frame, but you manage to make it work.
You’re tucking in the last corner of your many blankets when an unfamiliar knock on the door catches you off guard, and you get stuck pulling your hand out from beneath the mattress. You pull harder and harder, gritting your teeth and kicking yourself mentally for the ridiculousness of it all. Stupid fucking mattress, you groan mentally as you pull, why is this thing so goddamn heavy!? With one exceptionally strong pull, your hand rips free from its feather-filled prison, only for the momentum to send you falling backwards into a heavy sofa behind you, the collision making a crashing sound that mixes oh so wonderfully with the surprised shriek that leaves your mouth. You catch yourself just barely on an arm of the sofa, but have no time to process what just happened when Abby comes barging into the room, eyes wide as she searches for you.
Just perfect.
You both stare at each other like deer in headlights when your eyes meet, unsure of what to do. It’s Abby who breaks the silence first.
“Are you alright, princess?” She asks in a concerned tone, walking over to you gingerly. Her large form seems almost unnatural in your space, and it takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the proportions.
“Um, yes, I’m fine, I just…fell,” you explain awkwardly, cheeks going pink. You stand straight and pull your hand off the sofa arm, hissing quietly when the friction stings on your pointer finger. Looking down to inspect it, you notice a long splinter shoved inside of the skin and grimace.
“You just fell?” Abby asks quizzically, raising an eyebrow as she eyes the splinter.
“Well, I, um— I got my hand stuck, and when I pulled it out, I guess I pulled too hard and just…fell…” Your voice trails off as you look from her to the bed and back to your hand, touching the splinter gingerly and hissing again.
Abby nods, humming in understanding. “I see…do you need help, um, with that?” She asked, gesturing to the splinter.
“Oh no, I’ve—I’ve got it,” you reply casually, trying to hide the clenching of your jaw when you gently pull on the slice of wood. Abby opens her mouth to ask if she can help again, but you're already setting your jaw and pulling the splinter firmly, gasping at the more intense stinging when it slips out of your skin. A large bead of blood immediately forms on the spot, hinting to a stream, and your face pales at the sight as you bite your lip and look away, eyes searching for a handkerchief.
Your breath quickens in panic as you search, just the thought of the blood now seeping out of your finger making your breath quicken and your heartbeat skyrocket. A warm hand on yours and the feeling of a handkerchief being dabbed on your finger pulls you out of your growing panic, and you look to see Abby ever so gently holding your hand in one of your own while the other dabs the blood from your finger with a handkerchief.
“I remember one time when we were 9, you fell and scraped your knee on the stone while we were running in the garden, and you were very nearly screaming,” Abby said suddenly as she looked at your finger. “I guess I was right to assume that fear hadn’t changed much,” she continued, chuckling. A breathy chuckle left your mouth in return, gaze still focused on her hands touching your own.
“I never did have the stomach for it, did I?” You responded quietly, a gentle smile dancing on your lips. “I guess some things never change.”
“Yes,” Abby agreed, “some things never really change, do they?” She spoke in nearly a whisper, eyes finally glancing up to meet yours. Your breath caught in your throat, heartbeat slowing as you gazed into the stormy blue of her eyes.
“I guess not,” you whispered.
The sudden rapt knocking of Nina’s small fist and her pushing the door into your room ripped both of you out of the trance you had been in, you grabbing the handkerchief and holding it to your finger while Abby’s hands dropped yours and she stood at attention. Her mouth opened like she was about to announce her arrival before she spotted the two of you standing unusually close, and her movement stopped, brows immediately furrowing in confusion.
“I— We—“ you started.
“She fell!” Abby nearly shouted, her expression unsure. “She fell and I heard the commotion, so I came in, and she, um, got a splinter,” she finished, gesturing toward your hand. You raised your handkerchief covered finger as proof, and Nina nodded slowly. You weren’t quite sure why you felt like you had been caught doing something wrong, but it certainly did, and you certainly weren’t sure how to feel about it.
Abby cleared her throat, and nodded to the still open door. “Well, um, I should…yeah,” she stuttered, nodding a goodbye to both of you before returning to her post outside of the door that she closed behind herself.
As soon as the latch clicked, Nina’s eyes were on you like a hawk, and you were retreating back to where you had been sitting with your face in your hands. “Did I seriously just see that?” She asked incredulously, bringing a tray of food over with her and setting it on a small table. You nodded, face still in your hands, but you were quickly coaxed out by the smell of the food.
“I was just trying to make my stupid bed, and my stupid hand got stuck under the stupid mattress, and I fell pulling it out and got a splinter on my finger, and then it started bleeding when I pulled it out, and…yeah. That’s about it,” you poured the words out quickly, immediately feasting and downing large gulps of water when you finished. Nina simply nodded knowingly and watched, nibbling on a piece of toast as you ate.
“Y’know, that didn’t seem very despicable to me,” she remarked after a few minutes of comfortable silence, a mischievous grin growing on her face.
“Ughhhhh,” you groaned, turning an annoyed glance at her. “Are you going to keep being like this? It was just an awkward situation,” you complained, shoving another piece of fruit in your mouth. Nina laughed and nodded.
“I’m sorry, princess, but it’s been just too easy,” she retorted, still laughing. You rolled your eyes, but inside, your heart still skipped a beat every once in a while, thinking about her calloused, warm hands encapsulating yours, and her deep eyes gazing into yours like nothing else existed in the world.
You seriously needed to distract yourself if you were going to survive this.
⊹ ⋆。˚ ————————— 𓆩♡𓆪 —————————⊹ ⋆。˚
taglist: @paqerings @katniiss @dummysimp011 @chocbaleine
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justkending · 9 days
Text
Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (Chapter 4/7)
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Mini-Series Summary: Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader
Word Count: 3900+
A/N Note: Only a few more chapters to go (I think, but we're both lost on how long this series will be.) Thank you guys for reading and as always, thank you for the love and support!
____________
Chapter 4:
Y/N's POV
It wasn’t him. It was 100% me. I did this to myself. I built a wall so quickly around him because I didn’t want to like the man behind my misery. 
My teammates knew enough about my backstory to think they had an idea of my reason for joining SHIELD: helping the little guy because, at one point, you were the little guy—the manipulated guy—the one who no one saved, so you had to save yourself—and now anyone else who can’t do it for themselves. 
Yet, there were so many other things I kept for myself, and things files couldn’t tell you. No files existed of them, and I’m glad because I didn’t want the pity. 
James Buchanan Barnes was the reason behind my abuse. Not personally, but my abuser was obsessed with his accomplishments under the German and Russian terrorist organizations and wanted to make a female, more skilled, discrete, and sleeker version of the Winter Soldier. 
Who fucking didn’t, right? God, every goddamn evil bastard on this godforsaken shit show of a planet wants to remake something that was a once in a lifetime kind of thing and crack more than a few eggs to get to that point. Selfish asshole…
Being constantly compared to him and then beaten for not hitting the unreachable mark of the man I was ‘of no comparison to’ after years of trying to hit that standard, and then being asked to be on a team with him? A lot of emotions hit me like a train when I got that news. 
Will I amount to being the trained spy and agent I am for Shield with him by my side? Will he make me look like a completely pointless addition to the team? After five years of already working with the Avengers and then learning who the Winter Solider was? Steve’s best friend and probably the only person he could relate to in their journey? All the way to having to work with him… The change-up was instantaneous, where I would have begged for baby steps. 
Then again, when has the world made it easy for me?
So yes. I was an ass and kept him further than arm's length away to stay safe from learning that he was a good guy when I wasn’t ready to like him yet. I had a lot of trauma I never thought I’d have to work through with the infamous man himself, and that irritation and annoyance just continued when he finally matched my energy, and we never strayed from that relationship until… now.
And here he was, genuinely asking what HE did wrong when I was the reason for our enemies’ plot line. 
“Bucky, I don’t think I can talk about this right now,” I breathed out slowly, feeling the tears prick in my eyes.
It had been a minute since I cried and felt this vulnerable, and I couldn’t seem to stop it. I think subconsciously, I didn’t want to stop it, but my mind was begging my body to hold out until he was out of the room. 
“Y/N, if I did something to you, I didn’t realize-” 
“You wouldn’t have known,” I whisper, not trusting my voice to stay steady, but also not wanting to put anymore of the blame on him from here on out. 
He wasn’t a bad guy.
He had proved himself time and time again to be a really good guy. Even when he broke and decided he hated me back, he still had his moments when he put it aside and showed chivalry. I admired him for it even when I ignored the admiration. 
Makes it hard to fully hate a guy who made sure ladies weren’t opening any doors for themselves. Or a man who remembered Morgan’s birthday and bought her an ice cream cake before stealing Steve’s shield to sled down a hill her dad told her not to. Or a man you treat like absolute shit 99% of the time, and he still checks on you when you have nightmares, and he grabs water and an ice pack and helps you even out your breathing before waiting for you to go back to sleep. 
I didn’t ask him for the help, and he never mentioned the handful of times he fell into the routine of soothing me back to sleep. Never brought it up, never made me feel like I owed him, and never hinted at remembering such kindness. 
But now?
“You wouldn’t have known why it started this way to begin with. And you likely won’t,” I sigh, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth before turning around; a lot more put together, even if it was just a mask I had learned to put on most of my life. 
“I don’t understand,” Bucky furrowed his eyebrows at my disposition. 
“I don’t expect you to, but maybe we should go to sleep and talk about it later. It’s getting late, and you have to go to your ‘job’ tomorrow,” I say with hand quotes. “We have to keep the ruse going.” 
“A few hours of sleep doesn’t affect me,” Bucky shook his head, and I could see him itching to put his hands back on me, but he held back. “Please. I need to know what the hell I did.” 
“Again, Bucky,” I say sternly this time, all emotion I’m struggling to keep at bay shoved down. “You are not at fault, and tomorrow I’ll talk to you, but for now, I need to sleep on it.”
He read my face for lies, and I kept it neutral. I wasn’t going to break here. Now was not the time. I needed space to think about how I was going to approach this after so long of avoiding it and being put on the spot wasn’t going to work for me. 
“Ok,” he said, softer than I think I ever heard him talk. His eyes were soft and sensitive, and I didn’t know how I felt about it…
He turned and walked out of my room, gently shutting the door behind him and turning off the overhead light he had originally flashed on. 
I didn’t instantly head straight to bed. I stared at the doorway in the dark, seeing the faint silhouette of the barrier between us. He was still on the other side, and I could hear his heart rate higher than normal.
This was affecting him more than I thought it would. Why was he so worried about what I thought of him? He didn’t seem bothered by my disinterest in the past. Or at least I didn’t figure he did. 
____________________
When I woke up, Bucky was already gone. His truck, normally in the driveway, was missing, and I knew he had taken off for our mission report. 
Thankful, I took the time to make my coffee, sit on the front porch, and watch the neighborhood take on its morning routine. 
People were on runs with their family dogs, moms were doing their morning walks with strollers, some neighbors were out already tending to their gardens, and everything suburban seemed to be on track. 
Towards the end of my cup, I notice Ms. Bauer coming back from her jog she must have taken earlier than the others. 
“Oh, hello, neighbor!” she shouted when she spotted me, uniformly checking our house like her head was on a swivel if she heard a pen drop in it. 
Still in her jog, she sashayed over to my lawn, and I mumbled, “Here we go,” smiling at her as she followed the sidewalk to our steps. 
“How are you doing today, Bethanne?” I grin standing from my patio chair and going down the steps to meet her at the bottom of the flight. “Is there a run club I didn’t know about? You’re the 10th person I’ve seen getting a head start on their steps for the day.” 
She laughed and waved a hand at me before taking an earbud out, pausing her music on her watch, and placing her hands on her hips as she looked up at me. 
“There is actually a mommy and me walking club on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Depending on the weather, of course, but who knows,” she grinned up at me. “Maybe you can be joining it sooner than you thought.”
“Maybe not as soon as you think,” I laughed, holding my mug tighter with both hands so I wouldn’t strangle her instead and leaning on the banister. “We wanted at least a year in the house by ourselves before we add another set of feet to the chaos,” I scrunch my nose and add, “but I’m excited for the day Beau and I have a mini-version of us running around here.” 
“Speaking of Beau,” she grins, looking to the driveway. “Where is he today? He’s usually home with you most of the time, right?”
“Oh, it was time for him to get back to work. He took off for a few weeks to get moved in and spend time with me before we had to get back to the real world,” I answer as planned. 
“That’s right. I think I remember you guys talking about that at the first block party,” she nodded, watching me carefully for slip-ups. “Can you believe it’s only been two weeks of you guys here? I feel like you two have been a part of the community for at least a year.” 
“You’re sweet,” I gush convincingly and look out to the neighborhood for effect. “You guys have really taken us in as your family, and you don’t know how much I appreciate it. We appreciate it,” I correct and look off in the distance like I’m thinking of my sweet, doting husband when, in reality, I was thinking of the day this mission was over and I could carry on with my normal life. “I don’t think I’ve mentioned this. Beau isn’t one to really talk about it, but his family life wasn’t the best. They’ve practically been strangers since he turned 18.” 
“Oh, is that so?” she inched up, feeding on the new (fake) information. 
I nod. “When we started dating, my family took him in as his own- well, I only had my dad around for most of my life, but they got along really well. He passed three years ago,” I give a tight-lipped look as I look down at my feet in sadness. “They developed a bond, which wasn’t hard considering who my dad was. He was the best, though we might be biased in thinking that. Taught Beau how to do a lot of things dads are supposed to teach their sons. Well,” I sniffle for added effect. “Anyway, we’re kinda on our own now. No extended family we’re close with, and with my dad’s passing, it’s really just us. So when I say we’re grateful for y’all’s hospitality, I mean it.”
She seemed to buy it, as much as an undercover convict could, and smiled kindly up at me before placing a hand on my arm. 
“Of course, sweetheart. We’re just lucky you two are some of the good ones. You’d be surprised who’s come in and hasn’t made the cut. Lawns in disarray, unfriendly attitudes, and you know the list,” she winks and rolls her shoulders back before stretching in her spot. “Speaking of being lovely neighbors, how would you and Beau feel about a dinner at our house? Reggie and I have been talking about having you over for quite some time now, and I think we can finally host.” Before I could ask, she stopped me and explained. “Kitchen renovation. It was and still is a pain in my ass, but it should be doable for a small dinner.”
“That sounds lovely,” I beam as much as I could act. It was the perfect next step, and the bait had been taken, but a part of me wanted to settle things with Bucky in our personal dispute before we put on our masks for the two main perpetrators. “Let me check with him and see what his schedule will look like now. He’s getting some new orders today, and some things are changing in the company. We’ll know more tonight. But we will for sure make it work.” 
___________
After Bethanne told me some useless neighborhood gossip, she excused herself, and I went back inside to get ready for the day and consider how I would approach Bucky on our issue. 
I knew it was time to be truthful, even if I dreaded it. Bucky had proven time and time again that he wasn’t the enemy, and I needed to deal with my issues. I was tired of wasting energy on hatred and anger, and these last two weeks proved that Bucky wasn’t the one who should have been receiving the blunt force end of my trauma. 
I had until four in the evening to come up with an idea of how I wanted to go about it, but I had stress cleaned instead and couldn’t come up with a non-terrifying way to approach this life-changing conversation.
Finally, I found it best we get dinner in the town over (as not to have any peaking eyes or eavesdropping ears as we dive into my life story I hadn’t indulged to near anyone before), and I would talk to Bucky there. However, plans changed when Bucky came home. 
From my spot in the kitchen, I heard him shout in his domesticated voice across the street, “No, that sounds perfect! We’d love to!” The door opened just as he finished his sentence, and his voice became clearer. 
I moved around the island and slowly walked toward the door to get a view of who he was talking to, and I noticed Bethanne at her mailbox waving to Bucky. 
I furrowed my eyebrows at the obvious commitment he put us in, and after he waved back, he shut the door behind him, looking at me, and dropped the act quickly. 
“What did you just agree to?” I asked, nodding my head behind him. 
He looked me up and down, and I almost forgot I had picked a new, semi-fancier sundress for our “surprise anniversary dinner” (at least the front I was trying to put on for getting out of town without too much suspicion).
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(Make whatever color you please or change it in your mind if you want! I'm choosing to pick it as a darker red.)
“You look nice,” he says as his eyes trail back up to my own, and I swear I see him take a gulp. 
“What did you agree to?” I asked again, focused more on what he had decided for us regarding Bethanne. 
His previous shocked face faded away, and he rolled his eyes slightly before throwing his work bag to the side.
“Bethanne invited us to dinner. I said yes because we need to build a relationship with them,” he replied stoically, as if my question was dumb and pointless. 
I just stared at him and let my “personal vendetta” look rest on my face. He studied me and had the decency to shrink ever so slightly. 
“What?”
“What happened to discussing things first?” I said in an eerily calm voice. 
“I didn’t think accepting dinner at a home we’ve been trying to get inside of for the last two weeks is something we’d have to discuss.” And now he straightens up, throwing his empty arms to the side. 
A few seconds later, I yelled, “You dipshit!” in a muffled grunt, keeping my voice down as much as I could handle and balling my fists in anger. 
His eyebrows shoot up and he huffs with his chest puffed out as he marches to me. I see the intent in his eyes, and I start walking away towards the opposite room closest, needing a minute not to lose my shit, and if I have to look into his stupid azure eyes like he wants to read everything passing through my mind, I’ll break.
“Don’t walk away from me,” he growls, and I shoot him a look over my shoulder as I shift my pace and head down the hallway to the bedrooms. “Y/N, stop being a stubborn ass and-”
“Unless you want a heel thrown at your head, and you’re welcome for being civil about this, I suggest you leave me alone,” I shout behind me, turn sharply to the left, and go to my room. 
“I don’t even know what THIS is! You looked at me like you wanted to kill me when I walked in, and I haven’t even talked to you today besides updates about work,” he said just as I slammed the door in his face. “Oh, real mature. Shut the door like an adolescent. Wait, I forgot. You are one…” He mumbles the last part and I hear him lean on the door.
Instantly, I whip the door open, and he doesn’t have time to predict his next move. He falls flat on his back on the wood floors of my room, only padded by a thin oriental rug I made Tony buy me. 
He’s winded from the fall and clutches his chest as I bend down next to him and say, “I said. Leave. Me. The. Fuck. Alone.” I stare at him for a second, solidifying my threat. I stand to walk out and only give him a glance as I pass the doorway. 
_____________
Bucky’s POV:
I left her the fuck alone. 
I may have been royally pissed (that is a blatant ass understatement), but something about the look in Y/N’s eyes told me not to push unless I wanted to wake up with my head no longer attached to my body. 
I was too scared to leave her room in fear I’d run into her when she wasn’t ready and risk taking the chances of the guillotine earlier, so I sat on her bed and tried to rack my brain to where I slipped up to cause whatever the hell I walked in to…
I knew almost instantly and realized what a stupid, simple mistake it was. Bethanne asking me to dinner set her off, I knew. But her comment about talking with each other before making decisions told me my mistake. 
Something happened I didn’t know of, and I may have just fucked whatever it was up. As for what it is? No goddamn clue. But using context clues and just basic reading of the body language, Y/N had already made a plan, and I threw it out the window, likely.
I heard footsteps before I could think further, and Y/N appeared in the doorway, taking a deep breath. She would have convinced me she was going to be civil if it wasn’t for her history, but I was excited to see which lane she chose. 
“One thing before I bite my tongue,” she says in almost a whisper, like she’s trying to keep her frustrations at bay. “You make me want to shave my head like Britney Spears in 2007 75% of the time. This moment was almost a tipping point for that kind of outcome..” She lets out a long breath like she passed the test of keeping it together. 
Surprisingly a lot more tame than I was expecting. 
“Glad you got that out of your system. Now, please tell me what the hell happened?” I asked, keeping my guard up in case she resorted to her typical insults and fury. 
“Oh, now you want to communicate,” she mocks and walks to the bed, harshly sitting next to me but leaving a copious amount of space between us. 
I let it slide because I know she’s fighting bigger demons, like the urge to insult me, until I personally dig my own grave and say goodbye to my cruel reality. 
“Bethanne was goading us,” she answers, thankfully getting right to the point. “Something about her proposition seemed off, and I wanted to clear some things up with you before we jumped on the offer.”
I nodded my head, seeing that my instantaneous reply wasn’t thought out. That was on me, yes, but she also reacted extremely dramatically, expressing an odd feeling about the interaction instead of hard proof. 
“What did she ask, and what was off about it?” I question, trying to stay mission based because something seemed off still.
“It wasn’t what it was but how she was asking. Something in her tone and the way she was looking at our house and me. Like she was trying to take in detail after detail up close. Checking for cracks in the foundation,” she answers and turns to me just slightly. “She also said her kitchen was under renovation, and something felt off about it.” 
“The vibes about our neighbor getting a kitchen renovation made you knock the wind out of me when you opened your door?” I said before I could think, but I didn’t budge, my furrowed eyebrows aimed at her. 
She matches my glare and turns her body fully to me. 
“It seemed like an excuse,” she answers slowly. 
“To what? Host a dinner? That’s kind of the opposite effect. Who would want to host a dinner when you have kitchen renovations? It means they trust us if they’re willing to let us see a house that’s not perfect like the front they put on.” 
‘That’s what you get from it, but I think they just planted a little seed of their own.” 
“What do you even mean?”
“Kitchen Reno? That’s an excuse to say, ‘Oh, Charlotte, I can’t cook the chicken pot pie I was going to make for you two because our new oven hasn’t been delivered and installed yet. You know? Because we have the kitchen under renovation? I completely forgot,’” She acted in a convincing Bethanne impersonation and then quickly turned back to serious. 
“You got that from a kitchen reno comment?” I deadpanned after a minute. 
“I got that from understanding women masterminds who know how to manipulate a situation. I am that woman, so I think I can read them pretty well,” she says confidently back. 
Touché.
“And what if you’re wrong?” Her bitchface grew at my question. 
“First off, I’m not. Second off, even if I was wrong, we are supposed to consult each other about accepting invitations into the house of our suspect enemies,” she ran a hand through her hair, which I notice now looks styled differently. Did she curl it or have it blown out? And yes, I know what a blowout is. I have women friends and coworkers.
Yeah… I was in the wrong here, and that’s on me. I wasn’t thinking. I also had a long day snooping around for more information about this whole operation, but it isn’t necessarily an excuse… It’s not like  I haven’t worked on a case like this in the past. I mean, minus being fictitiously married to a coworker. 
“I’m sorry,” I say, and she gives me a weird look. “What?”
“I wasn’t expecting an apology,” she says, standing slowly and straightening her dress. 
“I know when to accept I made a mistake,” I shrug and stand as well. 
She studies my face like there's a retort that’s going to follow, but I just stare at her silently, communicating that I’m set on my apology. 
“Ok…” she drags out, watching me as she steps toward the door. “Well, I guess we need to get ready for tonight. Considering we have dinner. With our neighbors. And we need to set up bugs if possible.”
“Guess so,” I nod, crossing my arms. 
She stops suddenly and looks at me with a look of realization. “You’re in my room.” She steps to the side, leaving room for me to leave, and avoids eye contact. 
She’s still acting weird, but I need to change and get my head in the game for tonight, so I walk out with a subtle head nod as I leave.
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xhoneygirlxx · 8 months
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Still Adore You (With Your Hand Around My Neck)
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Epilogue: Destroy Myself
Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
summary: this is the beginning of the end. the start of a chaotic relationship you just can't seem to leave.
warnings: Eddie and Reader are in their 20s. Modern Au! kind of mean Eddie. rated R for smut, 18+ only Minors DNI!! unprotected p in v. cream pie. swearing. shitty writing and grammar errors.
*if i miss anything let me know*
a/n: hello my loves! this is part one to my still adore you series! i hope you guys like it as much as i do. thank you all for the love and support you've given me, i love you all so much <3
Also if you are an ageless/faceless blog you will be blocked. please have something on your profile so I know you are not a minor and are not a bot.
series masterlist
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I pray my salvation makes it to the pearly gates,
Bring the suffering that I face,
All the things that I face,
Destroy myself just to wait for you.
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When God created the Earth, he picked two of his children to live amongst the paradise he built to be our parents - Adam and Eve. The Garden of Eden was beautiful, a place like no other. The only rule that God gave was for them to not eat from the one tree, the tree of knowledge of right and wrong, good and evil.
They had plenty of other trees to eat from, other fruits to feast on, but when the serpent came speaking words of temptation, Eve gave into him and took a bite from the forbidden fruit, Adam would soon follow after her.
Because of the rule was broken and they went against God, they were banished forever and were cursed with the pain of mortality. Their children and their children's children would face pain and sorrow, hurt and sickness, and ultimately death.
Like Eve, you gave into temptation as well, the warnings you received and how you ignored them all for the name of love. From the very first time you met Eddie Munson warning signs flashed, blinding you with the bright lights. Caution tape blocked you from crossing that line but you inevitably ignored it, ducting under it and continuing on your way.
You walked straight into the line of fire for the promise of nirvana, for just a taste of the sweetness of his love. For the longest time you thought Eve was stupid for falling for the devil's tricks but when he came to you with the prettiest brown eyes and lips that you wanted to kiss for hours, you finally understood.
Dying by the hands of the man that you love is probably the worst death. His strong grip squeezing the air out of you so slowly, smiling at you as he did it felt like torture, but what a way to go. You'd still adore Eddie with his hand wrapped around your neck, with his heavy palm crushing your windpipe, and you'd die so full of love.
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The night breeze cools the heat of your skin, hitting your sweat soaked hairline and creating chills that ran up the skin of your arm. The night was still young as they say, the party inside still going in full force. Sweat bodies and clouds of smoke filled every room, creating a sort of heat that quickly became too unbearable.
Quickly finding refuge in crackling embers of the firepit. Unknown people and nameless faces fill the chairs around you, mingling with one another. Despite the happy nature and good vibe of the atmosphere around you, you sit with a permanent frown. Pissed isn't even the word you'd want to use for how you feel at the moment.
Furious, enrage, even spitting angry would be a better description for how you felt towards your friends right now. A random house party in a random place was not how you wanted to spend your Friday night, but then Annika and Nikki looked at you with their big pleading eyes and the end was history.
"We'll stick next to you the whole time," they said, "We promise we won't leave."
Only an hour in and their promise was nothing but a lie, leaving you the minute you stepped through the threshold shouting that they'd return shortly. You didn't expect any less honestly, Annika only wanted to come here for the possibility of hooking up and Nikki was more interested in the arrival of her possible new girlfriend Val.
You always found something to do whether it was people watching or drinking until your vision began to blur. Tonight was different however, being the designated driver you were banned from drinking any alcohol and people watching was only fun for the first forty five hours.
Now you sit playing on your phone, scrolling through every app on your phone until your friends finally arrived. You continue to look at the bright screen in your hands reading through old notes that you had yet to delete, too engrossed by the amount of grocery lists to realize that half of the group left the circle.
"You know this is a party, right?" A gruff voice asks.
Lifting your head slightly, you look up from under your eyelashes to the man across from you, scowl written on your lips. The orange glow highlights him in the best of ways, making him even more alluring.
Brown curls fall from the the bun that sits on top of his head, framing his face so beautifully. His lips pull into a smirk, making the deep crevice of his dimples pop out. Big doe eyes sparkle at you, glimmering in the heat of the flames.
His outfit is basic, a band tee with a faded logo, showing off how well loved it was. The holes in his black skinny jeans show off the tiniest hint of black ink that hides beneath the fabric. The fire and moon fight over the rings that sit on his hands, both going back and forth on which one glints in the silver. A loose cigarette sits tucked behind his ear and a sweating bottle of beer rests in his strong hands.
He's captivating, alluring you like the serpent did Eve. You don't engage, promptly scoffing and then rolling your eyes back down to your phone.
"You know my uncle always said if you roll them hard enough, they'll get stuck."
You hear it before you see it, the grin that sits on his face. It adds gasoline to the already burning inferno that rests inside of you adding turbulence, causing roaring flames.
"Good, hope they do." It's bitchy, ice cold like a winter's breeze. Instead of hurling an insult that you, he laughs. A true genuine laugh that you'd compliment if it weren't for the anger pumping through you.
Shutting your phone off, you drop it into your lap and cross your arms over your chest. Sighing loudly, you look at the curly haired man across from you unimpressed, eyebrow arching sharply.
He takes your challenge of a stare down, watching you over the glass of his beer bottle as he puts it to his lips taking a swig. His gaze in unfaltering but yours isn't. It's not your fault though, not when his neck looks so delicious as he swallows every last drop.
Removing the bottle from his mouth, he catches you eyeing the plump of his lips. Even though you've been caught, your stare doesn't waver, only moving the line of your sight back up to his eyes.
"Ya know, it's not really nice to be mean to your friend." His statement causes another eye roll from you, another loud scoff pulling from your throat.
"You're not my friend," Your words swim with annoyance and it only fuels the man in front of you even more.
Gasping loudly, a ringed hand clutches his chest as if he'd been insulted to the fullest. "I'm not you're friend? I thought the warmth of the fire cemented our relationship."
He curls his lips inwards, biting back a laugh that threatens to sneak it's way out. You're not any better, your bottom lip stinging with the pressure of your teeth that sink into it.
Silences covers the two of you, begging for one of you to break first. Although you put up the toughest of fights, you're the first to lose, a small giggle escaping the lock on your lips. The man isn't far behind you, snorting loudly into the quiet night air.
"First of all, I don't even know your name." You counter, mentally berating yourself for letting a laugh squeak out.
"Oh, you need my name?" He asks, eyebrows raising curiously.
Your eyes squint at the absurdness of his question, "Yeah, that's how making friends works, genius."
Batting his eyelashes, he waves a hand at you in flattery. "I love it when you call me sweet names."
His voice is flirty teasing you to the fullest and if you don't do something fast you're going to melt, and not because the heat of the flames.
"That's my cue to leave." Pushing yourself halfway up from the chair, you're immediately stopped by his arm waving you to stop.
"No, no I quit, I promise." It's said between breathless laughs, his eyes crinkling at the sides when he does.
Smirking ever so slightly, you bask in the sound of his voice. Sitting down slowly, you sigh as if you'd rather not be here regardless of the growing smile tugging at your lips.
Once sat back in your seat, you wait with a tapping foot and crossed arms, trying your hardest to look annoyed. He looks at you smugly, like he's enjoying the little performance you put on.
"If I tell you my name, you gotta tell me yours." He demands, you don't respond just pulling your hand out to inspect the acrylics that rest on your hand.
"I'm Eddie." He beams at you, rolling his tongue over his bottom lip.
You purse your lips, looking him up and down as if you're bored. When you give him your name, he nods slowly and repeats it like it's the prettiest thing he's heard.
"Well there you go, now we're friends." The depth of his voice makes the beat of your heart skip, cheeks burning the more you get flustered.
Shaking it off, you give him a look that the kind that reads "really?", and he only answers by returning a look that says "of course". Sucking your teeth, you look down at the blue fabric of your jeans.
"We can't be friends if we don't even hang out." It's shy, your confidence subsiding harshly under the heat of his eyes.
Now he scoffs, shaking his head back and forth causing the loose curls to move with him. "Don't do me like that, Pookie. Just gimme your number and I'll hang out any time your little heart desires."
"You did not just call me fucking Pookie." You laugh, throwing your head back and clutching your stomach.
You don't see him but Eddie just looks at you like you're the prettiest thing he's ever seen, adoration swimming in the dark color of his eyes.
When your laughter ceases and you fall back into your normal position, you open your eyes to see him looking at you. For the first time in your life you finally see what it's like to be looked at as if you hung the stars in their place. It feels good, heart racing and air catching in the back of your throat.
Blinking out of your trance, you nod shakily. "Umm, you said something about my ugh number?"
Eddie reaches into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out his phone and tapping in the code to unlock it. Handing it over to you wordlessly, it's already open to the new contact screen where you punch in the ten digit number. You ponder for a moment before typing in a name, flicking back and forth between the options you have, until you ultimately adding it under your given nickname with a black heart.
Handing it back to him, he looks at it smirking and then puts it back into its rightful home of his pocket. Opening his mouth to say something Eddie is interrupted with the sound of the backdoor opening and the rush of the music inside pouring from the doorway.
"Hey, we've been looking for you!" Annika shouts, stumbling towards you on unsteady feet.
Looking at the clearly tipsy girl, you turn back around to see give a sympathetic look to Eddie, quietly apologizing for your drunken friend.
"I guess that's my que to go." You shrug, moving from your spot on the chair.
Eddie only looks at you tenderly, dimples on full display for you. "Go ahead, Pookie. I'll see you later."
Sending you off with a wink, you walk away from the sanctuary you found. Walking over to your friend, you can't help but look back at the pretty boy you met finding him already smiling back at you.
Threading your arm in your friend's, you allow her to put her weight onto you so she doesn't fall. Unfocused eyes scan to where you keep looking, squinting to find the person.
"Who's that?" She keeps squinting, trying hard to see the man's features.
When her eyes seem to make out what she looks like, she perks up with a dopey smile. "Oh my fucking gawd, he's hot."
Saying it a little too loudly, you instantly clap your hand over her mouth and look back to make sure Eddie hasn't heard. You find him shaking his head, shoulders shaking with a clear laugh as he lights the cigarette that hangs between his teeth.
"Hope you got his number, would be a shot missed if you didn't." She chastises once you remove your palm from her lips. You sigh loudly and pull her along and make your way into the house.
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Eddie kept his promise, using all his free time over the summer to see you. It started off innocently enough, late night drives down to the lake, midafternoon hangouts in the Dairy Queen parking lot where you’d sit in the bed of his beat up truck, and hanging out in his apartment watching him play video games.
Friends, that’s all it was in the beginning. Two people opening up to one another, bonding over their shitty childhoods and laughing at jokes that no one else ever understood.
As the heat of the roaring sun became more intense, so did the relationship between the two of you. Touches became lingering like the tickle of the tall overgrown grass by the lake. Kisses were light and airy, reminiscent of the lightning bugs that flew around in the dark summer sky. Eddie’s scent lingered with you even after you’d gone home, similar to sunscreen.
Tangled sheets and messy hair, flustered cheeks and dopey smiles. The two of you shined so bright even the stars that hung from the dark blue night were jealous.
But when the sunsets came sooner and sooner, so did the end of your fairytale. Calls became unanswered, hangouts were no more, and hand holding became totally off limits. What was once warm and sickly sweet smiles, was now cold shoulders and icy attitudes.
You felt stupid, falling for someone that wasn’t even yours. Giving Eddie your heart on a platter when he never even asked. When this all started you knew what it was, signing your soul over to the devil using your blood as ink.
The risks were in plain sight, the rules agreed on with the locking of pinkies, and yet you still broke them. Eddie told you over and over again this wasn’t anything other than some fun, a way to pass the boring summer days faster.
And although it hurt, you still plunged the sword deeper and deeper. What is love without some loss?
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The mahogany teakwood candles that burns on the top of your dresser does nothing to get rid of the smell that you and Eddie have created. Notes of dark oat and frosted lavender are being drowned out by sweat and sex.
Cotton sheets soak up the perpetration, the outline of his body imprinted to remind you that he was once there, the only lingering memory of him when he inevitably leaves. Cheeks flushed with red, screaming claw marks on alabaster skin, and bruises in the shape of teeth.
"Fuck, squeezin' me s'good, baby." Eddie's all gritted teeth and panting breath as he wiggles around underneath you.
The ache in your knees is no match for the burn you feel in the pit of your stomach, your hole clenching around the thickness of his cock. Switching between bouncing and rocking your hips, you're hurdling closer and closer to the edge.
Sentences aren't even forming in your brain, only random blabbering falls from your lips in loud whines with the way he punches into your cervix.
"S'good, shit you feel so good." It comes out like a sob, ripped right out from the depths of your soul.
Big strong hands grip at the plush of your hips, finger prints threatening to leave a mark for the next day. A wicked grin forms on red kiss bitten lips, basking in the glory of you crumbling on top of him.
"Yeah? Is it good, princess?" Arrogant and cocky, two traits that only he can pull off without it being a turn off.
Your head wildly bobs, drool escaping from your parted lips. "Uh huh," the only real response you can give him in this very moment and it's all he needs to know he's fucked you dumb beyond repair.
Bending his knees, Eddie starts to fuck up into you with unwavering force. The thatch of course hair that sits at the base of his cock catches deliciously on your swollen and neglected clit, resulting in harsh mewl.
With your own eyes screwed shut you don't see that his have rolled into the back of his head, jaw unhinged with the pleasure of you clasping around him tightly. Regardless of his own peak nearing, Eddie continues to keep up with his facade, making sure you finish way before he does.
"I'm so deep huh? S'deep, shit- so deep in this tight f-uhh, fucking cunt." Teeth bite down on the fat of his bottom lip, holding the whimpers from escaping from his mouth.
The speed of his movements, the loud squelch of your juices, and the intensity of him hitting into your g-spot is enough to make your head dizzy. He's everywhere, his touch, his scent, his voice. He's everywhere, all around you and you don't think that anything else in the world could create the same euphoric feeling he does.
"M'gonna-, ah I'm gonna cum." The end is closing in on you, the wave of ecstasy crashing into the shore. Although it feels so good crossing the finish line, you know when it's over he'll be gone all too soon.
"Me too, sweetheart. Motherfuck-, cum for me." The act that he had put on has finally faltered, cracking right at the seams.
That does it, pushes you right off the edge into the blissful waters of your high. Your already weakening knees have now failed you, letting you drop onto the slick soaked skin of Eddie's tattooed chest.
The two of you continue to whimper and moan as your highs ripple through you. Both of you create lightning, a pair of super bolts roar in the middle of your quiet bedroom. In the heat of your bliss, you're completely ignorant to the consequences of such strong power being created. No matter what the outcome is, at least it was beautiful and for the smallest of moments, it was real.
After the glory has finally wore off you remove yourself from him, letting out a strong hiss when the feeling of him is completely out of you. Letting your body fall to the plushness of your mattress, you allow yourself to cycle through the memory of it all.
Naked chests heave, a silence pulling over both of you like a heavy quilt in the winter. It's comfortable like this, the heat radiating off of your skin mixes with Eddie's, the pumping of hearts syncing into the same rhythm pattern.
While your body settles into the softness of your bed, Eddie's is quick to jump up from his spot with a loud grunt. Fresh red marks flash at you, decorating the smooth skin of his back along with the pretty freckles you used to trace with the soft flesh of your finger tips.
As he sits on the side of your bed catching his breath, you wonder if he misses the feeling of your touch the way you miss his skin. You wonder if he misses the intensity of your body next to his, arms and legs tangled together buried underneath the shelter of his comforter. You wonder if his bed misses the shape of your body the way yours misses his.
The springs of your mattress groan when the weight of his body leaves and for a moment you feel the same way. Footsteps are muted by the fibers of your carpeting. You watch from your spot as Eddie grabs a tissue from your vanity, wiping himself free of any evidence of you and then disposing it into the garbage can with a careless toss.
Muscles flex as he begins to redress himself, hiding the masterpiece that you left on his skin. You hope that they sting when he's under the heated water of his shower, a pang that will go away within a few days while the pang of your hurt will last a lifetime.
His messy curls pull from the neck of his shirt, shaking with the motions of his head trying to get rid of the unruly hair that masks his vision. From the singular foot away that the two of you stand, you pray that he won't leave, that this isn't the end.
"Do you wanna stay? W-we could watch a movie or something." Behind the sincerity of your voice is a girl that mourns the loss of her once best friend, begging him to remember what the two of you had in the beginning.
The clang of his belt ricochets through the room, an uncomfortable hallow sound that you wish to forget. Spinning on the socked heel of his foot, he gives you a blank face. One so devoid of emotion, cold and vacant.
"Don't start doin' this, Pookie. You already know what this is." A clear warning given with a strict tone.
The nickname that used to cause butterflies only brings mountains of sadness. It used to have meaning, a funny inside joke between the two of you now dwindled down to the name of a place holder.
"I just thought-" Going unfinished by the sound of Eddie's deep sigh.
"Not tonight, kay?" He says as nicely enough to placate you and even though you know nothing will come from it, you're still full of hope.
Bending down, he begins to slide his feet into his shoes, the same one's you gifted to him only so many months ago. Watching him tie the browning shoelaces of his vans, you wonder if he remembers the way you smiled while handing him the box, or how he felt when you said you got them just because.
It tugs at your already bandaged heart, the sticky adhesive of band aids doing their absolute best to keep the muscle intact. The rattle of the remaining broken pieces rattle in your ears, muffling everything else around you.
The lanky man stands to full height, grabbing his beloved leather jacket from your floor where it was left in the tornado of excitement. Rounding the end of your bed he makes his way to you, standing over your still naked body.
Bending at the waist, Eddie places a wet kiss on your forehead and pulls away with charming smile.
"I'll text you, pook."
You nod at his words, gripping on tightly to the faith that this whole thing will work out the way you hope. Giving you a wink, Eddie quickly exists your room and just like that you crumble.
On the wet sheets of your bed you curl into yourself, naked and vulnerable in more ways than one. Tears leak from your eyes and sobs rip from the depths of your stomach. It hurts watching him walk out because you never know when it'll be the last time.
You try to think back to when everything changed, where it all went wrong. All of the flashbacks and memories flood your brain, a film wheel of all the happy moments. More tears flow, a nonstop river of all the heartache.
You miss him, what your friendship used to be. At this point you don't even care if he loves you the way you love him, you just want him to care for you like he did all those months ago.
You wish you could go back to that warm summer day where you handed over your heart and let him carve his name in it, so that no matter what you did you'd belong to him for the rest of your days.
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thank you all for reading!! i hope you guys like part one :)
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A New Friend (Part 1/2)
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pairing: park ranger!frankie morales x f!reader
rating: M (mild sexual desire but nothing even mildly explicit, reader has a douchey boyfriend, breakups, frankie is an angel because i said so, just cutesy flirting mostly, we get sexy in part two don’t worry)
wc: 4k
frankie masterlist
Where the fuck am I?
You turned to study the woods around you, the trees notched with marks you’d made after having watched one too many survival shows on your couch looking a little too familiar for comfort.
You’d been trying to find your way back to the trail for two hours now, sunset turning into night before your eyes.
Now, you had to come to terms with the fact that you were indeed very lost, going in circles when you were supposed to be heading south—you were supposed to be heading south, right?—to your campsite, the campsite your boyfriend and his friends were at getting shitfaced, likely not even noticing your absence.
As you wandered the dark woods in hopes of finding any sort of sign or guide to safety with your dull flashlight, you considered why you even came along on this trip in the first place.
This weekend marked your fifth anniversary, plans of a trip for just the two of you becoming quickly derailed by the unexpected—at least on your part—visit of his two best friends who showed up and invited him out for a camping trip. Not wanting to spend the weekend all by yourself, contemplating the future of your relationship, you decided to join them, much to their dismay judging by the way they’d been ignoring you since the start of the trip.
This evening, you decided to go out on a walk to get some much needed air from the men who were busy pretending you didn’t exist—including your partner. That’s how you found yourself lost, stuck stumbling through a navy blue washed forest, every sound heightened from fear, your brain creating scenario after scenario of how you’d reach your demise. Be it a bear or a bobcat, a stranger or nature, your anxious heart was sure somehow, this would be the end for you if you didn’t find safety.
Luckily, after a few minutes of hopeless navigating, your flashlight shined on a wooden sign with an arrow pointing left, “Ranger Station: ¼ Mile”.
“Thank god,” you exhaled, nodding as you started off in the direction of the well-used path.
As if the universe were laughing at you, halfway to the station, you began to feel a light drizzle from the blackened skies above, the clouds that had looked harmless this afternoon now slate-grey and rumbling. Shaking your head at your luck, you started to move quicker, but it seemed the rain had the same idea, the drizzle quickly spiraling to a full downpour by the time you walked up the steps to the Ranger’s lodge.
“Please be open,” you mumbled to yourself, noticing that the lights were off inside the tiny cabin. “Please, someone fucking be here.”
You pounded on the door after your knocks failed to earn a response, your eyes frantically looking around the building for any sign of life that could help (or hurt) you. Suddenly, your luck seemed to turn as a man dressed in a tight, form fitting uniform of khaki and forest green came running up the pathway with his coat thrown over his head.
“Excuse me!” you called out over the loud, crashing thunder, pulling his eyes from the ground up to yours. He seemed startled to see you standing there, drenched from the downpour and helpless.
“Oh—sorry,” he apologized as he stepped up the porch to unlock the cabin door, guiding you inside with the flick of a light switch. “I was out sweeping for stragglers when it started to get dark, must’ve missed you.”
“I got myself pretty lost, I don’t blame you,” you chuckled, overcome by the immediate relief brought on by shelter and warmth.
The cabin was small, a warm little space washed in golden light. There was a plaid loveseat in front of a fireplace, a half-read book laying on the coffee table in front of it. Turning your head a bit, there was a kitchen nook built in, nothing extravagant, just a mini-fridge, microwave, portable stovetop, some pots and pans, and a coffee machine. Beside the kitchen rested a desk that looked more like a dinner table, littered with papers and manilla folders as well as a closed laptop. Above, there was a loft built in, though you figured you’d need to climb up there yourself if you intended to study the layout.
“So,” the Ranger’s husky, low voice interrupted your snooping. You turned to watch him as he hung his coat up on the hook by the door before kicking his boots off. “How can I help you? You mentioned you were lost?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, clearing your throat. “I don’t remember the campsite location. I’ve been wandering for hours now.”
“By yourself?” he questioned, a crease forming between his brow as he studied you better, his eyes raking over your entire form before the reality of your soaked state dawned on him. “You cold? I have some tea, or…coffee?”
“Tea sounds great, thank you.” You watched him as he nodded, walking over to the kitchen nook to get the stovetop heated and water placed in the kettle he had hidden in a cupboard. Meanwhile, you looked longingly at the fireplace, hoping that he’d notice your shiver and light it. “Do you…possibly have a spare set of clothes? Anything would help, really.”
“Oh. Sure,” he nodded, avoiding your eyes but remaining attentive as he left the kettle on the burner and walked over to a closet by the door. He tugged out a plastic bin and lifted the lid off, a stack of brand new ranger uniforms inside. “What’s your size?”
You begrudgingly disclosed that information in exchange for warmth, and soon he was setting a pair of forest green pants and a beige t-shirt in your open palms.
“Uh, the restroom’s right there.” He pointed at the closed door in the corner of the room. “I’ll light the fire.”
“Thank you,” you offered him a smile but he was still avoiding looking at you directly, so it went unseen. With an awkward nod to him, you walked into the tiny bathroom to undress and redress, the full-length mirror mounted on the door serving as a good source of entertainment as you studied the way you looked in the ranger’s uniform, the pants undeniably, and shockingly, hugging every good curve on your body.
“The, uh, tea is ready when you are!” His voice sounded through the wooden door, making you jump as you posed in the mirror. gathering your damp clothes in your hands, making sure to hide your undergarments in the pile, you walked back out into the living room, spotting the man in uniform sitting at the table/work area with a mug of his own. “Yours is on the coffee table.”
“Thank you so much, for all of this,” you gestured around and he gave you a nod, no sign of a smile on his face, but there was no apparent anger or discomfort either. “My, uh, my name is…” You gave him your name and offered another friendly smile.
“I’m Frankie,” he greeted you back. Still no smile. “The storm is gonna go on all night. I think the odds of getting back to your campsite are slim, unfortunately.”
Your heart sank a bit at the news. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust this handsome ranger to house you for a night, but the thought of being an inconvenience to yet another person made you feel sick.
“I, um, I have a tent, so…I can stay outside and you can stay in here,” he offered.
“I know I’m not an expert at this stuff but that doesn’t sound very safe.”
“There's a cover, so, it’s not too bad. Your comfort and safety take precedence. It’s sorta my job.” He shrugged and took a sip of his drink.
“I appreciate the thought, but honestly, I think I would feel more comfortable with you in here with me.” You weren’t sure why you cared so much about keeping this glum ranger around, but there was something in his eyes, in his voice that calmed you in a way you desperately craved after the weekend you had. You weren’t naive to the deceit of men, but you truly believed this one meant you no harm. Besides, you were pretty sure sleep wasn’t going to come easy tonight anyway.
“Okay,” he agreed, his voice softer than before. “There’s, uh, not much for entertainment around here.” He chuckled, watching you as you set your clothes down by the fireplace before taking a seat on the sofa. “There’s books. Lots of books, but I know that’s not everyone’s—“
“Oh, I just finished this,” you interrupted him by picking up the book from the coffee table.
“Did—was the end any good?” he asked, standing up from the table and walking over to the kitchen nook to refill his mug.
“It was. Are you liking it so far?” You turned to watch him, the sight of his shirt straining against his broad back making you feel like a cheater for the lustful images your brain decided to flood your mind with.
“I am, but I’m an anxious reader. Constantly have to fight the urge to flip to the last pages.” He laughed again and you felt yourself melt further into the sofa. “So, are you camping alone, too?”
“No,” you sighed as you shook your head and set the book down.
“Touchy subject?” he guessed, resuming his seat at the table.
“I don’t know,” you exhaled and scratched your neck, chuckling at your own predicament. “It’s my anniversary tonight, and instead of spending it with my boyfriend and his two closest friends in the middle of the woods, I’m spending it with a stranger…ranger?”
He chuckled at the rhyme and let out a sympathetic sigh. “Can’t say the first option sounded very good, either.”
“No,” you nodded, looking to him with eager eyes. “It fucking sucks! And they were just ignoring me anyway. This is the most conversation I’ve had all weekend.”
“So is he like…an avid camper or something? You guys do this often?” Frankie questioned, sitting forward with his elbows on the table, his mug held in both hands.
“No, he’s just…an avid douchebag.” Frankie’s boisterous laugh both shocked and delighted you.
“Which is why, I’m assuming, you went and got lost in the woods by yourself?”
“Yep,” you sighed and shook your head. “And the sad thing is, I bet they haven’t even realized I left.”
“It sounds like you need to make this your last anniversary,” he advised, shrugging his shoulders when you turned to look at him.
“Yeah,” you agreed with a sad whisper. “Sucks.”
Frankie studied you for a moment, something more earnest than sympathy in his eyes as you stared down at your lap, picking at your cuticles.
“Hey—“ He caught your attention, your eyes lifting to meet his from across the room. “I’ve got a few board games in case my daughter comes to stay with me on duty. We could…play one? Pass some time?”
Knowing that the only alternative was to dwell on the crumbling state of your relationship, you agreed with a soft, barely there smile and a nod.
Frankie sat down on the rug in front of the fire, clearing the coffee table before pointing to the stack of board games on the shelf below the wooden top.
“There’s Candyland, Life, Monopoly, Scrabble, and Uno.”
“Huh,” you smiled and thought about the options, your stress taken away by this kind and charming stranger tasked with sheltering you for the night, seemingly in more ways than one. “We can start with Candyland.”
“Start, huh? Gonna be up playing games all night?” he asked with a matching smile as he set up the board game. “I guess I’m not one to talk given my personal track record, but I heard that sometimes it helps to face your shit, not run from it.”
“I’ll face it in the morning,” you replied, soft and vulnerable. “Tonight, I just want to be a stranded woman in the woods playing Candyland with a park ranger.”
“Okay,” he rasped back with a smile and a nod.
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“I hate you,” you kissed your teeth and rolled your eyes as you reached for the stack of Uno cards on the table, picking eight up and stuffing them in your hand previously only holding one, that near-victory long gone after he matched your +4 card. “You actually ruined my night, wow. How dare you?”
“Jeez,” he laughed and held his hands up in defense. “I didn’t expect such a violent reaction—“
“Oh, yeah right,” you rolled your eyes at him again before meeting his, your laughter fading into just a few soft, breathy chuckles the longer your eyes remained glued to his soft, brown, puppy-like stare.
“You, uh—“ he chuckled and looked down at his lap, shaking his head. “Nevermind.”
“No,” you giggled and urged him on. “Tell me.”
“You just have nice eyes. That’s all.” He shrugged and went to place a card on the stack, changing the color to red.
“I think you have nice eyes, as well,” you spoke softly, almost shyly as you searched your hand for an appropriate card, choosing a “reverse” card to lay on top of his. “Very puppy-dog.”
“Puppy-dog?” he asked in a laugh, amused by the unusual comparison. “Never heard that before.”
“You know, the way puppies look when they’re begging for scraps? You’ve got that same…charm, I guess. Like I couldn’t say no to you.” You mumbled the last sentence, the words not entirely meant for him to hear.
As much as you were enjoying your time with this handsome stranger and planned to end things with your boyfriend the minute you were reunited with him, you were still a taken woman. Cheating was never your thing, but you couldn’t deny the pull to the man sitting in front of you, illuminated and washed in the golden amber light of the fireplace, the buttons on his long-sleeved beige dress shirt undone at the top, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
“It’s getting late.” Frankie stood up abruptly and cleared his throat before looking at the watch on his wrist. “Two A.M. already. Sun’ll be up around six, we can head out and find your campsite then.”
“And in the meantime?” you asked, standing up as well though you weren’t sure why. Frankie’s eyes softened on you, not missing the hopeful twitch of your lip. He shook his head at you, but it was so subtle you nearly missed it.
“You’re…involved. It’s not cool,” he reminded, proving that at least one of you had your head screwed on right. “But believe me…I want to.”
“Yeah,” you nodded and looked down at your feet, embarrassed by the mere suggestion. “I—uh…yeah.”
“I’ll take the couch. You can go up into the loft. I have some clean pajamas on my bed, if you want.”
You climbed up the wooden ladder to the loft, finding a cozy space with a full-size mattress on the floor by a large window, a little lamp for reading in the corner, and a record player pre-loaded with a copy of Nirvana’s “Nevermind”. The rain was visible from the window, pattering on the glass while lightning struck in the distance, a loud boom of thunder cracking a few moments later. Lowering your eyes back to the bed, you spotted the set of red flannel pajamas at the foot.
“Mind turning the lights off so I can change?” you called out, and for a minute hoped he’d change his mind and come undress you himself.
“Sure thing,” he replied, and a moment later the cabin went black, except for the golden light of the fireplace.
You changed quickly, desperate to wear his clothes, to smell him up close for the first time, but the scent that flooded your nostrils was too clean, too soapy to have been him.
Now dressed, you walked to the fenced in ledge of the loft to watch him as he sat on the sofa, a book in hand. The fireplace illuminated him in a way that made him look painted, almost, like the product of an artist’s imagination. It was a painting you’d quite like to own, so that your eyes could study him everyday.
“Night,” he called, not looking up from his book.
“Good night,” you replied, smiling to yourself all the way to bed.
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Hours had passed by, the sun now up but hidden behind the clouds, the rain pattering against the window calming to a light drizzle. You hadn’t fallen asleep the entire time, your mind spinning with thoughts of seeing your boyfriend again, of the conversation you needed to have before getting the fuck out of this godforsaken National Park.
“Morning,” Frankie greeted you as you stepped down the ladder to the main floor of the cabin. His smile served as a better stimulant than any coffee you’d ever consumed, your tired eyes going bright as you took in the sight of him scrambling eggs in the kitchenette. “Thought I should feed you before I take you back to the douchebags.”
You chuckled. “Thanks.”
“Did you sleep okay?” he asked as he scraped half of the pan of eggs onto one plate before repeating it with another. You pulled up a seat while he carried the food over, placing one in front of you and the other in front of the seat closest to yours. A smile tugged at your lips at his choice of seat.
“I tried,” you answered, remembering that he’d asked a question. “But…my brain doesn’t like to shut off.”
“I feel you there.” The sound of liquid pouring into a cup caught your attention before the waft of coffee hit your nose. You felt yourself salivating as he walked your cup over. “Creamer, sugar?”
“Neither,” you shook your head. “This is incredible, thank you, Frankie.”
“It’s no problem,” he assured as he sat down beside you. “Part of the job.”
“I doubt that,” you laughed.
“Keep the park and its visitors safe. That’s the entire job,” he argued with a tilt of his head, his fork stabbing at the eggs.
“So you do all this for every stray that shows up at your door?” you asked in a playful tone, hoping to conceal your hurt at the prospect of simply being an obligation to him even if that’s exactly what you were.
“No, I don’t typically let my strays wear my PJ’s when I shelter them.” He smiled, his eyes lowered to the flannel set you were still wearing. “And I never, ever, let them win at Candyland like I did with you.”
“Oh, let me win, huh? Someone’s a sore loser,” you teased, grinning at your eggs as you mindlessly stabbed at them. “Maybe we should have a rematch, then.”
“I was counting on it,” he replied. Your eyes lifted to meet his, both of you swallowing thickly at the tension that seemed to keep building with every passing second. “You should eat.”
“You should kiss me,” some out of character being possessing you replied, shocking not only him, but yourself as well. “I’m sorry. That was…god, that was way too forward. I’m sorry.”
“I’ve thought about it,” he admitted, reaching his hand over to lower yours as it shielded your eyes in embarrassment. “Believe me. But I like you, or, could like you…a lot, I think…if we did this the right way, I mean. But kissing you now—“ He shook his head. “S’not the right way.”
“I know,” you exhaled and lifted your fork to your mouth, swallowing down a bite of food that you could hardly get down with all the butterflies swarming in your stomach.
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It only took Frankie about half an hour on his quad to find your campsite based on your half-assed description, your arms hugging him closely as you sat behind him.
When you arrived, your eyes widened at the sight of the once clean grounds now littered with trash, the boys, their tents, and the truck you all came in long gone. All that remained was their garbage and your duffel bag, a note sticking out of it.
“Well,” he sighed as he parked the quad and turned it off. “They are indeed douchebags.”
“What the fuck?” you whispered, staring at the note. You turned to Frankie and shook your head, a tear falling down your cheek as you started to read the note out loud.
Since you want to be dramatic and run off all night, I’m gonna give you all the space you could ever want. I’m so done with your shit. Consider this me breaking up with you.
“Fuck,” Frankie shook his head and through your tear-blurred vision you could see his jaw clenched. Frankie climbed off the ATV and walked up to you, reaching for your hand as it crumbled the note up. “This guy is a fucking dick—beyond a fucking dick, he’s…they don’t make filthy enough curse words to describe how shitty he is. You deserve so much better than that.”
“How do you know that?” you sighed, pulling away from him to pick your bag up off the ground. Frankie quickly took it from you and walked it back to the ATV, tying it onto the back.
“I guess I don’t,” Frankie finally answered your question as he returned with a trash bag. “But, judging by how kind and friendly you’ve been so far…I’d say that alone makes you at the very least better than him.”
You huffed a weak laugh and smiled at the sight of his dress shirt stretching over his back as he bent down to clean the campsite. Feeling guilty for your ex-boyfriend’s sins, you rushed to help, practically stealing the bag from Frankie’s hands.
“Thank you, Frankie.” You gave him a sincere, heartfelt smile. “I’m really sorry you got dragged into all my bullshit—“
He cut you off with a shake of his head and a reassuring smile.
“Don’t apologize,” he ordered before checking his watch. “My shift’s over in an hour or so. Do you live in town? I can drive you home, if you want?”
“I do, and that would…that would be really nice.”
You attempted to keep your tears at bay as he started the quad up and turned back around. Here was this stranger, treating you better than your boyfriend of five years ever had, and he’d only known you for one fucking night.
Back at the cabin, Frankie left you with the WiFi password while he tended to his end-of-shift duties, knowing that your phone had no service and that you should probably update your loved ones on your whereabouts considering you technically went missing last night.
You called your best friend first, giving them the rundown on not only what happened between you and your now ex-boyfriend, but also the building tension between you and your knight in shining khaki, Frankie. After some much needed words of comfort and reassurance that you deserve someone better than your shitty ex, you said goodbye and hung up.
Next up was your ex. You’d planned on telling him off, on calling him out on all the shit you’d been putting up with since the beginning of your relationship, but you never got the chance. The fucker sent you straight to voicemail.
By the time Frankie arrived, you already cried out all the tears you felt your relationship deserved, which wasn’t much.
“Everything okay?” he asked, walking over to join you on the sofa.
“Yeah,” you gave him a soft smile. “Or at least it will be.”
“Breakups are hard,” he empathized, reaching a hand over to rest on your knee. You stared down at the contact with a smirk before looking back to his eyes, finding him deep in study as he watched you. “This might…might not be the right time, but…and it doesn’t have to be anything romantic, but…are you doing anything tonight? Maybe we could go out for a drink or go see a movie or…anything, really. I could be a friend.”
“I’d like you to be more than a friend, Frankie.”
“So would I…eventually,” he added with a smile. “But for now, I don’t want you rushing into anything with me. It’s…it’s easy to confuse distraction for acceptance. Believe me, I made a lot of mistakes after my divorce. And…I really don’t want to be a mistake or a distraction to you. So, for now…friends?”
You twisted your mouth as you smiled, looking down at his hand on your knee and resting yours on top of it.
“Friends.”
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gritees · 10 months
Text
unlovable
a/n: not proofread. for all my girls out there who hate themselves 🫶! this lowkey just so i could make myself feel better 💀 beware of shitty grammar! wc: 618
angst, oikawa tooru x reader
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sometimes you wonder how you bagged a guy like oikawa. the star athlete with hundreds of fans. he's pretty, built like a god, kind, witty, and so many other things that you can't even list out.
sometimes you wonder how he could smile at you, how he could kiss your cheek and ask about your day so lovingly, or how he could go out of his way to stand in line for two hours to buy your favorite pastries.
you're not pretty. sure, you're definitely not ugly, but you'd consider yourself average. if someone saw you on the street, they'd walk right past you because you were just another girl. nothing worth doing a double take for or asking for your number. you're not not stunning, gorgeous, breathtaking, or whatever he calls you everyday. you know you're not and you've come to accept it. it's why you begin to think he's just saying things to make you happy.
you're not an incredibly kind or sweet person. you don't forgive and you definitely don't forget. sure, you hold the door for some or help your classmates with homework problems, but far from the kind of female protagonist shown in the mangas or animes. you're not willing to forgive people who have hurt you in the past nor are you willing to sacrifice yourself for them. you don't have the golden angel halo above your head and you're selfish sometimes. you're a bitter person and incredibly angry at the world.
you're not an ambitious woman working to build an empire. you study and work hard to live an average life with a comfortable salary. nothing lavish, nothing big. you don't keep going in the face of difficulties, you give up. the first time you failed to cook a dish, you gave up immediately. because no one has time to wait for the water to finish boiling, ‘why can't i just drop the damn pasta in already.’
you just don't see any part of yourself worth loving. you're unlovable. you're just so painfully ordinary. and it's why you don't understand why he chose you, out of all great and beautiful girls out there.
but tooru sees so many things about you worth loving. he sees the good in you and he thanks the heavens everyday for giving him the opportunity to be with you. after you fall asleep, he makes it a routine to kiss every knuckle and scar and whisper all the things he loves about you. when you turn away from him, he gazes at you with the most loving eyes that anyone who sees would throw up from the raw emotions he holds for you. when you're not around him, he looks up at the stars and prays that you're safe and happy.
and when he notices how you avoid looking at yourself in the mirror or begin shying away from speaking about yourself or look enviously at other girls, he's quick to remind you.
“i want to make you see that you are worth loving. you don't see it now, but i promise you will. stay with me and i'll show you all the great things about yourself. i'll kiss every inch of your body until you forget what it's like to hate every inch of it. i’ll show you if it's the last thing i do.”
you're no honda tooru or female protagonist in a manga. but that's ok because you don't need to be. you'll stay the bitter and fragile person you are. laughing when people fall, crying when someone yells at you, but being loved by oikawa tooru makes it all worth it. and slowly, you begin to see yourself in a different light.
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a/n: reality is that a man can't fix you. wish it was so simple that someone loving you can make all our insecurities go away but it is what it is. at least fanfiction me is happy 🤷🏻‍♀️
YOU GUYS ARE BEAUTIFUL AND I LOVE YOU!
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cialovesklopp · 8 months
Text
𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐄’𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆 ➺ k.mbappé
𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — in which it’s the night of the grammys and amara has the chance to make history and shock the world with some revelations
𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — amara imani (oc) x kylian mbappé
𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 10k
𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 — while we’re young [jhene aiko]
𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 — @aechii @lorarri
𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓’𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 — so… we’ve finally made it. one more article and we’re through with mon amour. I want to thank you all for reading, for not leaving even though I had some periods where I couldn’t find any inspiration. You still read Mon amour even if I found myself soo discouraged and unmotivated. Don’t worry, i still have a lot for this series planned. A very big thank you goes also to @aechii who accompanied me through the entire process and supported me in the best way. nothing i could wish more for and i am very happy about the fact that you enjoyed it so much. one of my closest people. and then a big thank you goes to my soul sister @lorarri — without her this series probably wouldn’t exist and this series are as much mine as they are hers.
masterlist
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𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐌
𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬_𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜
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liked by liyah_clark, pierregasly and 13.074.652 others
charles_leclerc the amara imani protection squad is in all on-board for the evening
view all 98.074 comments
username omg yukierre being the ones responsible for food
username to be a fly on those walls during that night
username i just wanna know if what pierre and yuki cooked was good
charles_leclerc it was edible but pierre was just there for pr
maxverstappen1 it was definitely better than what lando and oscar cooked
landonorris it wasn’t that bad, the steak was just a bit unseasoned and the vegetables were edible
georgerussell bit unseasoned? you didn’t even put salt on the steak and the vegetables were burned
lewishamilton even roscoe declined your food
username this is a want, not a need
liyah_clark as much as i love this little supportive get-together i hope no one touched any of my things. i haven’t forgotten the foundation yet.
charles_leclerc … about that 😶
charles_leclerc max slept on your side of the bed and pierre used your skincare
maxverstappen1 only because lando took nearly all the space and lewis reserved the entire couch for him and roscoe
username i swear to god they’re never gonna beat those allegations
username lestappen nation thanking the gods at the moment for this
amara.imani roscoe!! 🥹
roscoelovescoco we’s loves amara
amara.imani thx for your support guys, you are the best group ever. you’re making me cry and i’m currently in hair & makeup
amara.imani if i win a prize tonight, i’ll make sure to mention you
username but the fact that amara imani is more important than anything and even made pierre and esteban forget their petty fight
username FR like amara is so much bigger even their pettiness can be put aside
username i feel like we should give charles a extra big thank u for dating liyah and bringing amara into their lives
𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚.𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢
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liked by charles_leclerc, graceywood and 17.028.543 others
amara.imani big night and big surprise incoming
the user turned her comments off on this post
𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑
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𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄
her life was truly a fairytale. amara imani was sure of that now. 
looking back a year and a half ago, she would have never thought she would be able to say those words; especially because she loved fairy tales and her life seemed to be going drown back then. and somehow one person had been able to change everything and make her life resemble a disney movie. give her her own fairy tale. 
her love for fairytales dated back a long time ago. back to when her father used to read her stories before going to sleep. how often had she fallen asleep to the happy endings of snow white or cinderella? wished that she would meet her dream prince like belle did with the beast? well, now she had. 
the life she had built now was different than before. historians liked to define time by distinguishing before christ and after christ. and amara could organize her time now by differentiating between before and after evan — or better yet, before and after kylian. 
before kylian, she was there but she felt herself floating between spaces, just there but with no cause. the quick rise and new found fame had made her lose herself in all the turmoil and with the addition of evan, amara soon didn’t even recognize her own reflection in the mirror anymore. during that time, life become meaningless and fairytales stayed what they were. plain fairy tales, made simply for the purpose of entertaining children. 
that was the problem once one lost themself. the genuine pleasure and joys of life were lost with the person itself. colors became blurry together, and there was no difference anymore in what was real and what was a simple imagination of what one truly felt. amara found herself lost, drowning even though the water was clear. herself long gone. and her identity too. 
philosophy described the identity as several qualities, beliefs, characteristics and the sense of belonging that formed a person. described them and made the different from all the other humans and their identities. their identities were highly necessary for the growth of the human. but when one lost themselves, their identity was often a part of what they were losing too. the security of knowing what one was became a doubtful question, followed by several insecurities that were coming up too.
maybe losing herself big amara so hard because she had never truly known herself — after all, the brain has not finished developing till the age of 23. the sudden void that filled a part of her and could not be filled had ripped apart the part of her that she had carried into her new life. the new-found fame. and even the smallest innocent parts of herself were lost the moment she had not known who she was anymore. 
and then there was after kylian. the time where she found herself again. and fairytales became true again. 
sometimes people had to lose themselves to find themselves again, to see themselves the way they truly are. find their own worth again. a process amara had needed more than she could have imagined. 
evan had reduced her, made her believe she was nothing more than a side piece to his person that cling to him and followed him wherever he went. he had treated her career as if it was a side hobby she had been doing and could stop at any time. she had gotten so wrapped up in the false illusion evan had created of her, she had forgotten how much she was worth for just being herself. maybe evan had shown her a different world, shown her the secrets to it and made her see different colors — but he had also shown her how much she didn’t fit into his world. she had forgotten how special she was because she was too busy loving him, trying to meet his expectations and ideals. 
it had made the idea of love seem disgusting — why would anyone go through that kind of pain just to be disappointed? sure, love included pain, after all one didn’t truly love if they had never experienced the pains of love. but when the pain was outweighing the good? the happy moments? amara had closed the chapter of love when evan had humiliated her. forgotten all her dreams of getting her happy ever after. 
it was kylian who made the difference. 
showing someone something was not the way one can learn. they’ll know how to spot it but they won’t know how to use it. it’s by teaching them that one can truly learn. and kylian taught amara how to love. 
taught her that love was not just sharing “i love you”. the act of love went further than that, more intimate. love was about creating. constructing a world that fits the other one as much as oneself. trying to realize the best version of the world. and it was so much more than just creating. 
love was also about trust. being able to confide in your partner was just as important as the feelings that were developed in a relationship. they had to trust that the other would always be there to catch them, no matter what case. trust was just as important. it was valuable and once the trust was gone, even love would not be enough. 
but what amara treasured the most was communication. it made her feel seen, her problems were heard and not just swallowed down to forget. they compromised when they weren’t sharing the same opinion and talked it out when they felt misunderstood. amara had always thought men didn’t like talking about their feelings, especially with all the fights she had had with evan whenever he seemed angry but again, kylian proved that there was hope for the male population. 
he didn’t keep to himself. when something seemed to be bothering him, he cleared it quickly with her and cuddle sessions were often spent with him ranting, whenever he felt bad or annoyed at his team. but most importantly, he never took it out on her. 
no matter how complicated it got, how angry he sometimes seemed at paris, he never let any of his anger out on amara — he never even showed it. it was another way of expressing their love for each other; by being their best versions for each other. 
they were ready for everything. even for the big night that was awaiting them.
just thinking about the grammys made a shiver run through her body. in about fifteen minutes she would officially step into the public again. re-enter the high society of the music industry and make her comeback. and for the first time, she would be opening the grammys. to say she was nervous was an understatement — even cleaning her entire house seemed like a better idea at the moment. 
the closer the car got, the more she could hear fans screaming and yelling from outside. amara had truly forgotten what big importance the grammys played — the night that decided all. and she was nominated in eight categories. she hadn’t even made two last year and now she was nominated for eight — oh, how the tables could turn. 
“on a scale from one to ten, how nervous are you?” grace asked her softly, reaching for amara’s hand and squeezing it. 
“44,” amara replied stiffly, fidgeting with her fingers. her heart was pounding like a drum in her chest, even though in a few minutes she would put on her best million dollar smile. weeks had gone into the preparation for the grammys, especially since she was the one hosting and opening them. adding to that, she also had two more performances scheduled tonight and amara knew that they had to be perfect. everyone would be scrutinizing her, watching her with prying eyes and waiting for a slip up. 
the weight of expectations was suffocating her but she was not about to have a panic attack ten minuets away from the venue. and not when she looked this beautiful. 
the beautiful diamond-encrusted blue mermaid gown that had been specially made for her fit her like a second skin. the dress was gorgeous with its long tail and waves that emphasized the long slit and showed off her beautiful legs. it was made to turn heads and steal the show — perfect for amara tonight. her hair had been pulled into an elegant sleek bun that matched the neutral but glowing makeup. she looked breathtaking so why didn’t she feel like it?
“you are the star of the night and you know it. no album was as good as mon amour and everybody knows it. even the people on social media are backing you,” grace tried to assure her as amara took a deep breath. she was trying to steady her hands and stop the shivering but her nerves were getting the better side of her. 
was she very excited to spend the night with people who had turned their back on her the minute evan had started spreading his lies? no. but would she love wiping the smile off their face by stealing the show tonight? definitely. 
her redemption arc had gone perfectly. even better than she had imagined. she didn’t have any reason to be nervous. she was still fidgeting with her fingers as the car arrived but her nerves had calmed down a bit. this was her moment; her chance to show the world again that she was back and here to stay. 
she closed her eyes for a few seconds as the car pulled up in front of the venue, a small smile appearing on her lips as she heard all the fans screaming. she wasn’t sure if they were yelling for her or maybe a previous artist but it reminded her again of how much she had missed them. missed her own fans that had defended her till the end. she would step onto that red carpet and make everyone swallow their past words. that’s what she had been taught and no situation fit better than this one.
“it’s show time,” grace whispered excitingly and amara took one final deep breath. the driver then opened the door and amara stepped out, the defeating roar of the crowd hitting her like a sudden wave. 
the moment she had finally gotten out of the car, people making sure that her dress was okay, Fans reached a new height of their screams as they yelled out of excitement. everyone surged forward, trying to catch a glimpse of the attention of the star singer while paparazzis were literally blending her their cameras and constant pictures. amara turned around and waved to the fans, blowing them kisses while a huge smile formed on her face. 
as she walked towards the red carpet, even journalists who were reporting live from the event were shocked by what turmoil the arrival of amara imani caused. cameras were flashing constantly without a pause, nearly blinding her as they tried to capture every move. even the other stars who had arrived before her were stunned by her appearance — and the way they nearly saw white because of all those paparazzi trying to take the best picture of her. 
“oh my god, this is crazy,” amara exclaimed, her cheeks starting to hurt from all the smiling. 
“girl, what did you expect? eight nominations and your first grammy appearance since two years? of course you’re gonna be turning heads,” grace replied in a matter of fact- tone because it was obvious. “this is your night so enjoy it.”
guided by her team, she moved quickly along them before stoping for the final red carpet photos and the interviews grace had told her would he waiting for her. the poses came naturally to her though it became quite difficult to keep her eyes constantly open with the way photographers were flashing her with their cameras. she smiled one last time, turning a bit so that her entire dress was visible and was caught at every angle. and then it was interview time. 
with a smile plastered on her face, she stepped towards the first reporter, all cameras still on her. “wow, first let me say, you look gorgeous. you’re glowing tonight.”
“thank you so much. i would say i’m blushing but i can’t…,” she trailed off jokingly before becoming serious again. “nah, but i am really thankful for my team that organized all this and very thankful for the designers that created this dress for me.”
“well, amara, we all know that you prefer to hide the muse behind your new album but has it helped you with your success? especially after such a hard year?”
she took a deep breath, trying to form the perfect words in her head. “i guess, one could say so. choosing this privacy for my life this time seemed right at the moment and i do not regret it. i am still a bit amazed at mon amour’s success because all i did. was just expressing my love but i am grateful for the success.”
the reporter nodded before asking the next question. “amara,” she began, “your return to the music scene has been eagerly awaited by fans worldwide. i mean even i was excited when you announced that you were going to be present at the grammys. what inspired to do comeback and can we expect more music?”
amara laughed. “to be honest, it was my boyfriend who inspired me that i hid enough from the public. especially from an important night like this. but what concerns music, i do not know right now. i hadn’t planned mon amour till i had four songs ready in a short amount of time and thought i can do more. i guess we’ll see.”
she bid her goodbye to the reporter before moving along to the next one, who seemed completely marveled at her. 
“wow, amara imani is standing in front of me. i think i can die happily now.” he joked enthusiastically, making amara grin too. “okay, but jokes aside. you really do look gorgeous.”
she smiled cheekily. “thank you very much. i feel flattered that i made you accomplish your life goal.”
“so, how does it feel to be back on the red carpet after your long hiatus? any special feelings?”
she shrugged nonchalantly. “it’s amazing being back. it’s always a big honor to be invited but being nominated is always another step. i kinda missed the rush and my fans. a small part of me probably even missed the constant pictures.”
“it was announced that you were going to co-host the grammys alongside dua lipa but you also have a performance scheduled tonight. that are a lot of expectations for tonight, do you feel ready for that?”
she nodded happily, her hand subconsciously smoothing out her dress. “definitely. we spent weeks perfectioning this performance especially because it is my first after such a long time — and as for dua, we are good friends so it should be funny to host with her tonight. but i’m definitely ready.”
she waved at the reporter before going to the next.one that she had grown fond of over the years. naomi hart. 
“if it isn’t amara imani,” naomi greeted her cheekily, pressing two kisses on each of her cheeks. the typical french greeting the two had developed between each other. 
“naomi hart. my favorite journalist,” amara stated in the same tone, hugging her. the two women went way back to amara’s early days of fame when naomi took her aside and explained to her how the whole press thing even worked. 
“wow, you really look amazing. like can we just take a moment and admire your dress?” naomi exclaimed jokingly but with a slight tone of admiration. “and that necklace — must have cost a fortune.”
“thank you so much. it was a difficult choice choosing this dress but it’s nice knowing that the dress is doing what it’s supposed to do.” she chuckled, doing a little twirl with the dress. “and the necklace was a gift from my boyfriend.”
“oh, the mysterious boyfriend. wanna tell us more about him or about your grammy performance?”
she shook her head amusingly. “nope, not really. i kinda like the privacy we got. but concerning my performances, all i can say is that it’s gonna be a lot. i don’t know the word small but then again, let’s not give away too much,” she answered teasingly, winking at the camera. 
“well, i’m definitely excited for it. you better slay on that stage.” 
“i will,” amara stated firmly before grace walked up to her and the two were escorted inside by her security team. the show was officially starting now. 
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“wow… long time no seen amara,” sarah pierson greeted her, smiling at her while amara only faked small one. that sarah played a big part in her time with evan had not been forgotten. especially because she was the one amara thought she could trust the most only to be stabbed in the back. the comments her former friend had let out about her had really showed amara who had actually been her true friends and who was just with her for the good parts. 
“wish i could say i missed you but mama taught me not to lie,” amara replied simply, fiddling a bit with the microphone in her hand. 
sarah sighed, brushing a few strands of her hair out of her face. “amara, don’t tell me you’re still mad about the past. i didn’t know evan was lying.”
amara shrugged nonchalantly, not caring anymore. “i’m over it. you had your fifteen minutes fame. that’s what you wanted right? and now that they’re over, you’re crawling back?” amara questioned sassily as she checked her makeup one last time in the mirror. “sorry sweetie,” she replied in the same sweet tone she had been used to receiving from her, “but you’re a bit late. now excuse me but i’m about to open the grammys.” 
she sent her ex-friend one last dirty glance before strutting past her, ignoring any other calls for her attention as she made her way backstage. she had spotted lots of people — people who had supported her through the backflash and people who hadn’t even bothered to send her a message through all that complicated time. it had given her the chance to realize who was truly on her side and who weren’t and sarah and her whole clique definitely were on the bad list. 
“was she bothering you?” amara had found dua and grace chatting friendly when she finally made her way back and the latter had instantly remarked the somewhat displeased expression on her face. 
amara waved dismissively. “it’s nothing, just some insincere apologies that i’ve already heard,” she replied shortly, adjusting her outfit. “is everything ready?”
dua looked at her phone one last time and nodded. “it’s nearly 8. the red carpet is over and people should be at their places,” her serious expression softened as she looked at amara suggestively. “is he here?” she asked slyly, emphasising the "he”. 
“you won’t get anything out of me,” amara laughed as dua nudged her lightly, making her laughter only increase. 
amara couldn’t imagine a better person to host the grammys with than dua. the two singers had immediately hit it off when they had been introduced three years ago at the grammys and had since then stayed in contact. dua had even sent her some messages when amara had taken her leave from the star business. and now the two girls found themselves next to each other again. a sweet reunion. 
“ready to get everyone dancing?” dua teased her slightly, moving a bit so the dancers could all take their place before she left to get in place to announce everything. 
“never been more ready,” amara stated confidently, as she stared one last time at her outfit. the silver metallic ensemble that she had chosen for this performance fitted her perfectly, like a second skin and made everything look very futuristic and modern. a complete contrast to the video of the song but the dancing would make up for it.
“have fun,” grace told her quickly, blowing her a kiss and quickly disappeared too as the lights started to dim, to catch everyone’s attention and signify that the night was about to start. and it was. 
amara was officially letting the entire world know that she was back.
it was pitch black. except a few phones, every source of light had been extinguished or turned off. everyone’s eyes were focused on the stage or rather the person that would be appearing soon on it. 
she took one last breath before going into her start position, microphone tight in her hand. the music then began to play as the curtains opened slowly and amara hid a small grin at everyone’s reaction. 
“i’m ready to pull up on you,” she sang the minute the music stopped and the screen became black again before she continued to sing again. she and grace had put a lot of effort into the visuals of her opening performance, with liyah sometimes pitching in as a pair of fresh eyes. but the way everyone was cheering for her, a surge of pride overcome her as she danced — everything was going great. 
she was back in her element, her true nature. performing. some people were great at singing while some prefered to dance but amara found herself home in both. and she always tried to perform for her public. give them a show. she wasn’t one to just sing and do some moves — if she was on stage, she had to do both: sing and dance. give people the time of their lives. and from the way everybody was dancing, clapping or even singing along, she was clearly succeeding. 
by the time the music for hrs&hrs started, people were clearly out of breath from all the activity but they felt alive and no one was sitting down. the song she was singing now was perhaps a bit slower but people could still be enjoying themselves by singing loudly along, which was a great pause. 
during the second song, amara had changed outfit and had switched from her metallic modern ensemble to a beautiful, silky green dress with two thick straps that shimmered under the light. she had let her hair open and in the short pause where the dancers had time to leave the stage and it went black again, amara could change her shoes and put on some black heels. they matched the dress perfectly. 
“and yours, mine and ours,” she sang gracefully as the music faded out and light illuminated the hall again. she smiled brightly at everyone as whistles and clapping erupted from her audience — how she had missed this. 
dua was the first one to join her on the stage again. “and with this, the 2024  grammys have officially begun. let’s all give a huge applause to amara imani for opening our night like this.”
again, huge applause filled the arena and amara playfully bowed down. 
“thank you for your warm welcome. it’s been a while since i last performed,” amara admitted sheepishly as she brushed some hair out of her face. 
“well given the audience, i think you were amazing,” dua congratulated her. “tell me your secret, how do you do it? be gorgeous and talented at the same time?”
“omg dua are you flirting with me?” amara asked shockingly, playfully putting a hand on her heart. “you’ve never been this nice.”
“took you long enough to catch up, huh?” both were grinning as they entertained the public, making the people present laugh. “okay but focus back. welcome to the 66th grammy awards everyone — a night created to celebrate some of the finest talent in the industry from pop to punk. i can assure you there is an award for everything, with big names, big performances and even bigger awards there is no shortage of entrainment for our viewers at home and here to enjoy. i’m dua…”
“and i’m amara. and we’re going to host the show tonight.” both finished the last words together, posing playfully. they laughed at each other again before dua pulled out the first envelope. “let’s kick off the night with our first winner.” 
amara thanked the person quickly that had handed them the envelope before giving it to dua who opened it. the stars were out in the sky and by the stage and both were in for a long night. 
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the night was fully in motion. they had kicked off with announcing the grammy for best rock song of the year which had been followed by a performance from megan thee stallion and cardi b before several other winners had been announced. but none of the categories where amara had been nominated. the energy was high, everyone was in a good mood as they waited for the results of the night and there were no scandals that could be discussed slightly. 
she had even spotted evan, which truly confused her as she couldn’t find a reason why he would even be invited, but it didn’t bother her much anyway. tonight was about her. she could make history tonight, or better said, gain her place in history with eight nominations. though she didn’t think she would truly win all six.
amara found herself standing backstage as she watched lizzo perform while her heart pounded in her chest. just before the black beauty had started to entertain the public, they had read out the nominees for the category of “best r&b song”, a category she had been nominated under though. the energy in the room was beyond anything she could have imagined the last time with people dancing and singing along to songs. the nigerian singer found herself so lost in her thoughts, she didn’t even notice that the performance was nearly over. as she looked up, her hands instantly clapped when she saw that lizzo was exiting the stage amidst roaring applause. 
the stage was set for another celebrity to grace it as all nominees started to hope that it was their name being called out. even amara reached for grace’s hand for support and squeezed it lightly to calm down some of her nervosity. all eyes were on kelly clarkson who was set to announce the winner. 
“okay, so i’ve got the envelope here.” she began as she opened the envelope. “and the grammy for best r&b song goes to… amara imani!”
the arena erupted in a loud, ear-baffling cheers as the spotlight shifted to the winner. her name was plastered across the big screen on the stage while her music filled the stage as she stood there, stunned and frozen in disbelief. 
it felt surreal. she had just won her first grammy. so many days and months she had dreamt of this moment and yet she still didn’t feel prepared. she had done it. 
“girl, this is your moment,” grace whispered to her quietly and amara slowly made her way to the stage. her sensations were on another end, a flying sensation running through her body. she passed many fellow stars, who congratulated her on her way and offered her beaming smiles as she made her way onto the stage. 
she was instantly pulled into a hug by adele before the award was handed to her and amara took some seconds, just to breathe. the trophy was heavier than she had expected but still the proudest thing she had ever won. though as she thought about it, she noticed how it paled a bit. two years ago, she might have felt complete with it but today — she had already achieved the feeling of content and happiness. 
her voice trembled slightly with emotion as she started her small thank-you speech. “hey again, i guess. oh mon dieu, this feels so surreal to me. like someone’s about to pinch me and tell me it wasn’t me. or maybe james cordon is about to jump out with a camera and that little show where they would prank people,” she joked making the audience laugh. she wiped away some tears that were threatening to roll down her cheek. “this grammy means so much to me. but it wasn’t just my work. i want to thank my family, my friends, my fans who didn’t let me down after this chaotic year that i had. that i could still do it. this is everyone’s work who believed that amara imani could do it one day. but this grammy also isn’t just for me because we all,” she continued, referring to the other nominees, “released some terrific music. and the fact i was nominated with you is a lot. i guess i just have one more thing to say and that goes specifically to my mother. mama, if you’re watching this, which you probably are… we made it. the little girl dancing in front of mirrors made it.”
once again, the audience erupted into applause, their cheers echoing for her well-deserved win. amara was still a bit paralyzed, after all she had just won a grammy in a category she had been nominated with along beyonce. her heart filled with gratitude as she saw the sea of faces that looked all happy to see her succeed. no matter if some of them were fake or not true smiles. she was the one leaving the stage with the golden trophy in her hand. 
and it wasn’t the only one she would win tonight. amara couldn’t describe her feelings when she found herself on the stage again as winner of the grammy for best r&b performance. her heart raced and her heartbeat quickened as she gracefully accepted the grammy trophy in her trembling hands. everything around her seemed to fade away with overwhelming emotions and feelings rushing through her body. she felt it from her head down to her legs, that were shaking a bit. all the hard work was paying off, hours she had spent not sleeping and working instead. this was a part of her legacy now. 
and what made it even more emotional was the fact that liyah was the one to have handed her the grammy. she had pulled amara into a big hug, both girls taking all their strength to not cry and ruin their makeup. they remembered the days when they were just two girls, starting university and barely managing to get by and now they stood on the stage of the grammys with one handing the other her award. the years spent on youtube, with the dream of illuminating the world with her music had finally come true. here she was, standing on the biggest stage and walking it down with her second grammy. 
“i’m sooo proud of you,” grace instantly congratulated her, pulling amara into a hug again. “you did it. you showed everyone your place in the industry is the top. this all your work.”
“our work,” amara managed to squeeze out. this wasn’t just her achievement — it belonged to everyone who was somehow involved with her and the album. it belonged as much to her as it belonged to grace because without the latter, none of this would even have been possible. “we did this together.”
her mind was running at high speed with thoughts and emotions. she wanted to say so much but her voice was betraying her with words stuck in her throat. nothing could describe this feeling, this moment of pride she felt. 
“let’s see our next categories,” amara and dua had gone on the stage again after a short break to continue hosting. the two had already announced the grammy for best rap album, best rap song and best country album amongst other numerous things. they entertained the audience with short playful acts and teasing that came to them naturally. and amara was smiling even more because now she stood there as a two-time grammy winner. 
“but first of all, let’s hear it for adele who is going to grace us with her beautiful voice. i swear that woman just knows how to make you feel better during a breakup,” amara announced, laughing at the end of her phrase. 
“and you had the hardest of all time. did you play adele on repeat?” dua went along and amara nudged her slightly. “i can imagine amara imani at home, listening to adele while filling her stomach with ice cream.”
“can you blame me? anyway let's hear it for adele.” the lights dimmed again as the curtains opened and adele appeared. the hosts left the stage quickly and took their places next to grace and liyah to listen to the british singer. 
the atmosphere was beautiful, a mix of admiration and warmth as adele brightened the stage. “easy on me” was definitely one of her top songs with the way the lyrics were able to pull someone in so quickly and literally attach them to her voice. listening to adele was a journey that had to be felt in every inch of the body, it went further than just listening to it. it reminded amara again, why she looked up to adele and beyoncé so much. 
the performance was nothing short of breathtaking, with her eyes recounting every detail of the song. the entire arena was left speechless again, singing quietly along but all eyes were on stage. when the final note had been sung, the room erupted into loud applause, a standing ovation that seemed to go on forever.
after adele’s performance, it was sza to take the stage and announce the winner for best pop/duo group performance. she stepped up to the microphone with a huge smile firstly expressed her love towards adele before naming the nominees again . 
amara subconsciously grabbed liyah’s and grace’s hand, squeezing them both as her leg trembled a bit because of all the anticipation. “and the winner is… wow, amara imani, come get your third grammy of the night.”
the cheers were deafening and the camera turned to amara to capture her expression. grace and liyah pulled her in for a group hug, the friendship trip jumping up and down as they celebrated. she accepted hugs from stars next to her, such as taylor swift and chloe bailey before making her way to the stage. the two black artists shared a short embrace before sza stepped aside to let amara speak. 
“is this normal? i mean winning one is already incredible but winning three — damn. firstly a big shoutout to cardi b because she slayed just as much as i did,” amara pointed to the female ripper and blew her extra air kisses before continuing, “okay, so big thank you again to my mother. for pushing me into the arts when i told you back then i didn’t want to. and a big thank you to my father, for sacrificing his time to accompany me to rehearsals instead of watching football — though i’m pretty sure, though i’m sure you’re not that mad about it. to my amazing fans, thank you too for putting up with me and not turning insane when everyone was labeling me as a crazy bitch.” laughter erupted throughout the arena as she paused for a moment. “thank you to my boyfriend without whom i guess this song wouldn’t exist. standard thank you to my besties grace and liyah, all those late night facetime calls were definitely worth it.”
“to all the other people who were nominated here, i loved your performances. adele, just wow and lizzo, i love you,” she blew a small kiss towards the black artist who copied the act. “and lastly before i forget, thank you to my bestie’s boyfriend charles leclerc and the amara imani protection squad. it’s lovely that you love me enough to stay up till six in the morning for me. i love you guys.”
applause erupted once more as amara finished her speech and left the stage again. she rejoined grace and liyah, giving them her grammy and sat down again. there would be a commercial break any moment, which amara wanted to use to change her dress. because the way it seemed, there was no doubt that she was the big winner of the night. 
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breathtaking was the only word that came to mind as amara looked at herself in the mirror. the exquisite black gown was the definition of elegance and beauty and fit amara like a second skin. it was perfect for the announcement of the award that everyone had been waiting for — the grammy for album of the year. 
the dress had been a gift from versace and it reflected her beautifully. the classical mermaid dress, covered with a beautiful lacework and black crystals created an ethereal image of her. 
the shoulderless dress perfectly highlighted the jewelry she was be wearing. especially the beautiful necklace, kylian had gifted her. 
“wow,” liyah exclaimed as amara walked out, her eyes spotting her. “they don’t do things half-way, do they?”
amara only chuckled and did a little spin to show every angle of the dress. the gown especially showcased her décolletage and with it, her boobs that seemed to be bigger than they actually were in this dress. 
“you look breathtaking,” grace appeared from behind them, having chosen to change her dress too. “gorgeous isn’t enough to describe this dress.”
“but it’s you who makes it shine,” liyah finished. “i wanna borrow that dress asap.”
amara laughed. “poor charles. you’ll drive him crazy if you ever wear that dress.” 
“and don’t tell me you plan to wear it to a casual date. let’s not disrespect this masterpiece,” grace chimed in which resulted in both laughing.
liyah shrugged dismissively. “never. but the next driver’s gala, if me and charles are still going strong, why not wear it there…” she trailed off, a playful expression on her face. “make him leave earlier to take it off me… what’s for sure is that we’ll definitely not be able to christen some toilets in this.”
“liyah!” amara exclaimed and began to laugh, joined by grace who also started to laugh due to amara’s infectious smile. 
“we all know i’m right though. i’m the bad bitch to his big d energy. but enough about my relationship. let’s talk about you, miss five-time grammy-award winner. no one stands a chance tonight. and don’t forget our bet,” liyah threatened in a joking way. 
amara held up her hands. “don’t worry. let’s go now before i miss the last performance. and i want to see bruno mars live at least once in my life.”
the trio went back to their seats again and sat down just in time as the lights went out. amara quietly thanked taylor who complimented her outfit and send a radiant smile towards ella mai who had gushed about the dress. 
the nominee’s names had all been said already along with a small introduction for each album but before they could announce the winner, they would firstly be graced with a honorary performance from bruno mars. 
amara jumped up to her feet when the stage transformed into a light spectacle and bruno mars along with his usual band stepped out. the crowd erupted into screams as he launched into a medley of his greatest hits and amara found no shame in herself as she sang loudly along. and it seemed that she wasn’t the only one. 
the entire arena had gotten on their feet to dance to bruno mars. they sang along to every word of ‘locked out of heaven’ screaming around out of joy. bruno mars certainly held that power — bringing together everyone and getting everybody to dance. 
it felt too short as the last notes of his performance were played out and the song came to an end. amara was one of the first persons to clap, hardly being able to contain her excitement. after bruno mars performance, she felt recharged with energy again. his performance just brightened the whole atmosphere. especially because the evening was coming to an end. 
it was the vibing of her phone that tore her attention away from the stage as she picked up her phone. instantly a smile appeared on her face when she saw that it was kylian and she instantly opened it. they had spoken earlier but it had been to his time, shortly before nine and amara couldn’t imagine him being awake now if it hadn’t been for her. 
𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄
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amara turned around, hoping to spot kylian wherever he was hiding but it was useless since the biggest award of the night was about to be announced. she would be lying if she wasn’t nervous even though she had already won five prices that night. but the sixth would make her break history, mark her place in the music industry. she knew that this moment could change her career forever — winning six grammys in one night. and knowing that kylian was there suddenly seemed to make everything sound not as bad as it seemed. 
“oh mon dieu, beyoncé is going to present the award,” liyah exclaimed, her eyes widening. 
as usual, the audience clapped loudly and whistles when beyoncé took the stage, walking elegantly towards the microphone. amara felt a sort of intimidation as she looked at beyoncé, knowing what the woman in front represented. excellence, grace, talent. simply perfection. 
and she was more than that for amara. she was the one to get amara into the music industry, she discovered her and made sure that her star was shining. there was a bond between them since the recording of brown skin girl — a mentor-student relationship that had made her rise. 
the renowned artist began with a small recounting of how she used to stand down there and reflected shortly on how all those albums actually deserved an award. opening the envelope, beyoncé did a small double take before laughing. smiling she announced into the microphone, “and the grammy for best album of the year goes to… amara imani. congratulations!”
one second, everyone was processing what had just happened, the next amara found herself engulfed by liyah and grace and three girls were jumping up and down. a few tears of joy were streaming down her face as she celebrated, not really believing what had just happened. when the two let go, amara was pulled into hug by cardi b followed by taylor swift before she made her way upstage. 
she approached the microphone slowly and tenderly embraced beyoncé who passed her the golden trophy. amara wiped away some of her tears, her head already looking for ways on how to form a sixth thank you speech. her eyes mirrored gratitude and happiness— she felt out of this world. 
“congratulations amara. you just put yourself onto history,” beyoncé praised her. “i am so proud that i was your mentor and helped you get there.”
“if anything i need to thank you for even giving me a chance. for actually being there for me. thank you queen b,” she thanked the woman in front of her, who smiled at her fondly and placed her heart on her heart. “this dream became true because of you. you are so much more than just my mentor. you were my inspiration and my idol. and that will never change.”
everyone smiled softly as they watched amara imani and beyoncé share an emotional moment that was finalized with a big hug. everyone knew the little background story to them; how beyoncé has started praising a random black girl on youtube to even inviting her for a collaboration — the queen had always had her back. their bond resembled a mother-daughter bond. 
after both pulled away from their hug, beyoncé left the stage and it was time for amara to hold her last thank you speech. her eyes scanned the room, where they spotted her best friends grinning teasingly at her and suddenly amara had the perfect idea. 
“so the first two person that i want to say thank you are my parents. it’s because of them and their desire to give me the world that i am here. thank you to my sister for always pulling me up and backing me when i needed you. then my best friends, liyah and grace who is also my manager because honestly, i don’t know if amara imani would exist if it wasn’t for those two. they built me up, made me stronger and showed me that family was more than just blood. a big shoutout to my entire team — you did all the hard work. i just wrote the songs but you guys are the ones who spend hours and hours adjusting everything, letting everything sound perfectly and making sure that every tune is sounding the way it should. it’s more work than people think and you deserve this prideful feeling as much as me.”
a small grin made its way on her lips when she finally spotted kylian. she took a deep breath — this was the moment everyone was waiting for. millions of people were watching just to see whether she would finally uncover the mystery of her beau to the world.
“and lastly, i want to thank the love of my life who inspired me to write this entire album. kylian, this album was for you— this grammy belongs to you because all i did was just writing about the way you were loving me. about the way we loved,” she expressed, laughing as she looked him straight into the eyes. shocked gasps, whistles and whispers of astonishment erupted throughout the crowd as they followed amara’s eyes and fell onto kylian. even the cameras were zooming in to catch the revealing moment. 
“thank you for going to training tiredly just because you stayed up all night, listening to me rehearsing. thank you for enduring all of my weird mood swings during the process of recording this album or organizing self-care days because you saw how tired i was. for giving me inspiration to even write this,” she wiped away a tear that had escaped, “i want to thank you for staying with me — even at my lowest and hardest times. there are so many things i want to thank you for but i doubt we have enough time for that. but one last thing: mon amour, je t’aime.”
a roar of applause, bigger than any tonight, rolled over the entire audience. everyone was clapping with smiles on their faces and the camera zoomed in on kylian’s face — everyone was excited to finally get a look at the man who had captured amara imani’s heart. 
since she was scheduled to perform now anyway, amara just waited for dua to join her on stage again. grace had informed her that the winner of album of the year would be performing and in this case it had been her. and amara wanted hers to be the most memorable one from the past. 
dua pulled her into a tight hug, congratulating her before announcing the nigerian singer just as tradition asked for it as the winner of the night and calling her up for her performance. 
“soo… at first i thought about performing xo but honestly… i don’t feel like this song fits now and i lost a bet,” amara chuckled, “so i thought of something else. just like i promised. i do have one special request for someone.” 
her eyes stared straight at him. “kylian, would you please join me on stage?”
the french striker furrowed his eyebrows, a confused expression turning up on his face as he listened to her request. his eyes darted around his surroundings, numerous celebrities encircling him. he looked at her, waiting for her to explain her request but she just nodded at him, waiting for him. 
grace nudged him lightly. “go,” she motivated him and he reluctantly got up from his seat to join his girlfriend on stage, greeting some celebrities on his way up that he had met with psg before. even though he, himself, was a celebrity he felt like an outsider at the grammys, surrounded by all those stars and artists. 
“want to tell me what you’ve got planned?” kylian whispered quietly, making sure his words weren’t picked up by the microphone.
“nope,” amara responded shortly. “just relax and enjoy.” 
the stage lights went dark again as the music started to play in the background. just like always, when the two were together, the world around them started to blur and only they mattered. no one else fit into their blurb, everything around them just faded away. 
their stare went deeper than just their iris, with their eyes going deeper than just the soul, as the music played in the back. time was frozen at the moment; they didn’t care if millions of people were currently watching them on tv — no one else mattered. this was their moment. 
“‘telling everybody you’re mine and i like it, and i really hope you don’t mind i can’t fight it.” her voice was soft, tender as she sang to him, her dark-brown eyes not leaving him. her body nearly melted in his embrace, his hands steady on her waist as they swayed on the stage together. if her voice didn’t tell their love story, their eyes and the way they looked at each other definitely did. his eyes held a kind of look, elderly people often told their grandchildren about in tales: the look of love, that completely enamored look that had taken over his entire face. that innocent kind of love that had become so rare around the world. if destiny ever made them go separate ways, then faith was truly cruel. 
every word hit him deeper than any ball he had ever received and went through his soul. each word was sung with a certain sincerity, vulnerability— amara was laying all of herself over for him, every of her walls. just for him. 
“that we found the one in one another”
his hands were wrapped around her waist, with her back facing him as she buried her head in his shoulders, leaning back. their bodies fit like a puzzle and the feeling of comfort spread instantly while they danced slowly to the rhythm, lost in each other and the meaning of the song. 
amara had never planned to actually release the song — her true and final love letter to kylian. but she had made the mistake of showing liyah and grace the unreleased song and both had instantly fallen in love with it which is how they came to the bet. and now amara was happy that she had accepted and lost the bet because the moment she was currently sharing with kylian — no money on the world could ever buy her that feeling again. 
“spend my life with you, alright”
 their chemistry was undeniable. even a blind man would be able to see how much in love they were. just the way they moved, perfectly synchronized with that certain amount of grace and elegance.  
the french striker was definitely more than mesmerized by her. his heart belonged to her and only her. no words did justice to describe her as she sang—even angelic was not enough to describe her. and she was more than just the sun in his universe. and it was vice versa. 
kylian was more to her than just her soulmate. no term in any language would ever measure up to the significance he held in her heart. nothing could ever compare to the feelings that emerged when he held her or just smile at her. the way his smile managed to drown out everything else. even memorizing it wasn’t enough anymore, she needed to see it constantly. and she had fallen in love with every flaw that he portrayed and carried. they had created a safe space around each other, that let them live like they wanted. amara had simply found her best friend in her lover; the true significance to a soul mate. 
“baby, while we’re young,” amara began to sing the last verses, as the rhythm became easier and the music started to fade out. she was smiling bigly, her cheeks from hurting from its width but she couldn’t stop herself. the amount of serotonin her body was producing at the moment was too much to not show any signs of it. and it seemed kylian was feeling the same. “and walk hand in hand to the sun.”
the song officially came to an end as kylian gave amara one last spin. they both leaned in, foreheads touching as they stared at each other utterly enamored. they didn’t have to say anything, their grins were enough to communicate with each other. even as havoc broke out in the audience, with applause rushing over along with whistles and calls for more but the two did not let go of each other. 
“je t’aime,” amara mouthed, exhausted but happy nonetheless. 
“plus que la galaxie.” he finished, matching her facial expression. 
in the end, the only time they needed was for each other. they were enough for each other, completely in love and ready to face the world together. 
𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐌
𝐤.𝐦𝐛𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞
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liked by amara.imani, achrafhakimi and 28.083.964 others
k.mbappe mon amour 
view all 372.546 comments
username THE WAY I SCREAMED
username MY PARENTS
username i want what they have 😫
username same, like WHEN IS IT MY TURN
amara.imani je t’aime
k.mbappe 🫶🏾 
username new power couple incoming
ousmanedembele finally! it was getting so hard to keep it a secret
antogriezmann talking as if you haven’t spilled it to everyone you met
username we all owe this man an apology
username FR like sorry, we were not familiar with your game
username and the caption: mon amour 😭😭
username especially because amara posted je t’aime, they’re such an iconic couple
username just looking at all those pictures, makes me cry. they look so in love
username but how were they able to keep it a secret for soo long
username mbappe scoring on and off the pitch
username MY NEW PARENTS
username same, i just want them to adopt me
achrafhakimi A HARD LAUNCH IN THIS OCONOMY
ousmane_dembele we taught him so well
jkeey4 FINALLY! NOW I CAN FINALLY HYPE HER UP IN PUBLIC
aurelientchm DANCE PARTY AT THE NEXT RESSEMBLÉ
amara.imani THE GANG IS GETTING BACK TOGETHER
paulpogba ma sister, welcome to the family officially 
𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚.𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢
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liked by liyah_clark, k.mbappe and 29.754.368 others
amara.imani je t’aime
view all 172.530 comments
username i fuckin knew it
k.mbappe t’es ma reine
amara.imani mon roi
username WHAT WHAT— WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN
username i literally screamed when she hard launched her relationship yesterday
username how were we sooo blind
liyah_clark you guys are soo cute
liyah_clark i also just wanna brag that we were the first persons she told about kylian
graceywood remember when she freaked out because he kissed her on the cheek?
liyah_clark omg stop. you’re making me feel old 
graceywood feels like such a long time ago when they were pining after each other
antonellarocuzzi welcome to the wag life
username oh my godd, why can’t that be me 😫
username WHAT DID WE MISS
username how the heck did kylian mbappe pull my wife?
username MAMA WHO’S THIS
landonorris the fact we were the first to know
charles_leclerc surprised you didn’t spill it immediately 
pierregasly liyah threatened him to keep his mouth shut
liyah_clark accusations!
lewishamilton congratulations to you two, you make a beautiful couple
amara.imani thank u sir
157 notes · View notes
catboybiologist · 2 months
Note
I don’t know if I believe in god, but I believe god would celebrate trans people. I think human diversity is beautiful, natural, and unique to all of us. I’ve also seen that the vatican released articles protecting transgender people under similar logic(please correct me if you see otherwise). Anyway, just wanted to counterbalance that anon semen hate thing.. lol
I know this is from a good place, and I'm gonna be the asshole here, but its difficult for me to accept the kindness you're trying to extend.
I think that seeking validation and a moral code from anything other than "live your life in a way that's going to make the most people the most real and happy, including yourself", including seeking that from some kind of being of external influence, makes you susceptible to guilt and manipulation by people who use the ever-changing "interpretation" of that will to get people to live to their interests as opposed to yours, and that this philosophy isn't limited to situations where the will of that being is interpreted as something that benefits me specifically because that feels like a shortsighted mental trap of constantly validating my own life decisions to myself in a nonstop cycle of searching for approval from an influence that, by definition, doesn't communicate with me.
And funnily enough, the Vatican is the perfect example. The statements you're talking about basically amount to the same "love the sinner, hate the sin" shit we've all heard for pretty much our entire lives, and was basically only written with the intent of inviting lgbt people in to try and save their poor little misguided souls:
https://www.reuters.com/world/europe/pope-francis-calls-studies-into-ugly-gender-theory-2024-03-01/
But thanks, I guess. Sorry to be a dick, I know this came from a good place, but its hard for me to mask my opinion on this kind of thing. I'll fully admit there's a personal sting here. I was the most patient, good little, explaining and validating tranny with a couple Christian "friends" earlier this year, only to find that they were stringing me along so they could try to "save" me. Trying to find validation in organized religion will always be a losing battle. These are organizations built upon decades of power structures that require specific family dynamics for population growth and control. I don't know if there's a god or not, by definition its really impossible to say one way or the other. But the Christian God is so transparently a tool for political manipulation in a way that should be obvious to queer people, and efforts to make the church seem "okay" for queer people more often than not have that same, thinly-veiled disgust associated with them. "oh, don't worry, we all have our little sins! Jeff gambles, Tom is gay, John smokes..." that kind of shit. That's not acceptance. It's thinly veiled disgust that will drop the moment there's an excuse.
Are there truly accepting Christians? Yeah, of course. But if you hand me a gun and claim its not loaded, I'm not testing it by pulling the trigger in my mouth.
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itgetsdark-x · 6 months
Note
Hey, I have a little idea, that I just can't get out of my head.
Joel is trying to teach the reader how to play the guitar riff of "the chain" by Fleetwood Mac, but the reader gets a bit too distracted by Joels finger movements, which he notices, teases the reader with a cheeky smirk preferably like something similar to "darling you're focusing on the wrong thing". Once he sees that the reader is blushing, he sets down his guitar, takes the readers guitar and they just do it in the living room, just because they're so caught up in the moment. Then after the deed, he let's out a snarky remark on how the reader is easily distracted (honestly I don't even know how should the remark sound, like "next time focus on the strings and not the lingering fingers") [I'll just leave it up to you], but yeah the reader promises that she would be more attentive next time and they both start wheezing, because she's already making promises that she wouldn't be able to keep. The end 🥰
PS. And bless you and your writing, the writing is absolutely astounding, the way you capture pure emotions is phenomenal, the dialogues between characters too. Everything is mind-blowing, most of the time I find myself taken aback by it 😚. Thank you!!
A/N: please forgive the fact this has been sat in my inbox for literally months, I am so sorry!! <3 I’ve had so much on recently I just haven’t had the time to write so also please forgive the fact this sucks, I feel so outta touch! Nevertheless, here is your request and I hope I’ve done it justice, somewhat as the prompt was amazing!!
Summary: you love music, almost as much as you love watching your friend, Joel, play the guitar. When you’re stuck learning a song, Joel is there to lend a hand, in more ways than one.
Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, it’s just smut, unprotected p in v, mentioned age gap, mild choking, oral (m receiving)
Characters: Joel Miller x (f) reader
Word Count: 3.6k
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You sighed heavily, the breath from your lungs exhaling loudly in frustration as you threw your guitar down on the old couch in anger.
“What’s got you in a tiffy, darlin’?” Joel asked, peering his head round the corner so he could look at you.
“Can’t learn this fuckin’ riff in The Chain, y’know by Fleetwood Mac?” You groaned, slumping back into your seat and closing your eyes.
“Yeah, I’m from that era of music, darlin’. I’m well aware of the song.” He chuckled dryly and leant up against the wall of his lounge so he could admire you. “Would you like some help? I know the song and could teach you, if you like?” He said kindly.
“Really? Would you?” You grinned. “God, Joel! Yes! Thank you, you’d really by saving my life. I promised the band we would play it at our next show in a few day’s but actually didn’t realise the riff would be quite so hard. Sorry I know we said we would just hangout tonight and listen to music but this has got me all frustrated.”
Joel just smiled at you softly before he left the room to grab his own guitar. The two of you had been close friends for a while. Not long after you had moved to town, you stumbled into a local bar and saw this somewhat gruff-looking guy strumming his guitar at the open mic night. It took you to go to the same bar and see him three more times before you even grew the courage to say hello to him. There was an instant attraction between the two of you but you never quite built up the courage to become more than close friends, you spent a lot of time together and there always felt like more lingered in the air but you always managed to repress those feelings. Still, here you were now, you both seemed to just slot into one another’s life and routines seamlessly and without further words of your feelings for one another.
He reappeared with his, much nicer, and newer guitar; he gestured for you to scoot across the couch and pick up your own guitar. There was an evident age-gap between the two of you but you both bonded over your love or music and still, even still, it’s what you both loved the most.
“Okay, so,” Joel started and sat down on the couch next to you.
You turned yourself and crossed your legs so you could watch the male and follow his instructions. You picked up your own guitar and followed suit in Joel’s fingers positions.
He peered over at you with a soft smile, it was the sort of smile that hooked you from the instant you set your eyes on him; the kind of smile you wanted to drown yourself in forever. Just as quick as you saw yourself staring at the male, you diverted your gaze to his fingers once more and focused on your own positioning.
“You wanna put your fingers like this, strum, strum, switch, strum, switch…” Joel was instructing but your brain felt as if it had turned to mush.
This felt like it was the first time you properly took in the older male’s form and you could feel your cheeks heating up; you watched as Joel’s thick fingers moved effortlessly to play the riff that you had been struggling with. He continued to play and the soft chords filled your ears.
Your mind wandered filthily as he did so; you stopped trying to play along as you watched his fingers move, imagining what they would feel like touching you, feeling you, even what they would feel like inside of you. You shifted awkwardly in your seat as the familiar throb of lust swept through your body.
You imagined how it would feel to have Joel’s fingers tracing down your body softly, so incredibly softly until they were hooking inside your panties to gentle caress yo—
“Darlin’,” Joel coughed, drawing your attention back to the room. “Seems to me you’re focusing on the wrong thing…”
“What?!” You asked loudly, directing your gaze back to the smirking male in front of you. “Oh, I — uh — you,” you muttered. “Good technique.” You managed to get out with deeply flushed cheeks.
“Good technique, huh?” He chuckled. “You’re blushin’ quite a bit there.” Joel remarked with a smug smirk as he placed his guitar down on the floor away from the couch.
“N-no I am not!” You defended weakly, staring at the male once again with widened eyes as he took your guitar. “Wait, w-what are you doing?” You asked meekly.
“I’m doing what I shoulda done that night you first spoke to me.” Joel whispered, moving closer to you now.
He put your guitar on the floor, with his own and closed the distance between you; one of his strong hands held your face as he pressed a hungry kiss to your parted lips. You couldn’t help but gasp as your brain caught up with what was happening.
You pressed your palms to the males broad chest and gently pushed him away so you could open your mouth to speak once more.
“I don’t wanna ruin anything, Joel. D-don’t be dumb.” You whispered as you leant into the hand on your face.
“Shut up and kiss me, will you?” He laughed dryly before pulling you back in.
Joel manoeuvred your body until your were straddling his lap and you let out a contented sigh as he deepened the kiss; his tongue quickly swept along your bottom lip before it delved into your mouth to fight against your own. Any previous arguments of why you shouldn’t be doing this melted away with each kiss. Your hips shifted in the males lap, your greedy privates needing more friction than you were getting.
Joel let out a breathy laugh and toyed with the buttons on the front of your plaid shirt, he looked up at you to silently ask for permission, to which you gave a simple nod. Within seconds he was exposing your bra-clad chest, he couldn’t contain the deep groan that rumbled from his throat as his fingers fumbled with the fabric to expose more of your skin.
“Look at you, darlin’, so pretty.” He mumbled, attaching his rough lips to the skin of your neck and chest. He peppered soft kisses to the delicate skin and nipped at the doughy flesh of your breast.
You let out a soft moan, it was a small noise but it only encouraged Joel further; he unhooked your bra and let your bare breasts fall free from the constricting fabric. Your chest heaved, your skin was flushed and you wriggled in Joel’s lap; you weren’t sure what to do with your hands or even your body, you were fixed in the spot and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from Joel’s hands again. Only this time, they were massaging at your sensitive tits, he pinched his fingers over your hardening nipples and he toyed with the sensitive buds.
“Fuck, Joel. Please, I need way more than this. Please.” You breathed, watching him still.
“Yeah?” He groaned, his cock throbbing painfully in his worn jeans. “You need more? I see the way you’re still watching me, baby girl. You wanna watch as I play with your pretty pussy?”
Your breath caught in your throat at Joel’s question, you never imagined he could sound any sexier but there he was, filth falling from his lips as he played with your tits. With such nonchalance, he might as well have asked you how you like your coffee in the morning. You nodded eagerly, unable to string an answer together and Joel just chuckled.
“Get out your jeans and panties for me then. Then, just wait, since you got such a thing for watching my hands why don’t I let you watch properly?” He smirked.
You did as you were instructed, you stood from the sofa and stripped yourself of your remaining clothes and you kicked the discarded articles of clothing to the side with your waylaid guitar. You draped your arms over your chest, feeling overly exposed compared to Joel who was still fully dressed. Joel pushed the coffee table in the middle of the room until it was a further distance away from the sofa and he swiftly took the mirror off of the wall; he rested it up against the edge of the coffee table so that it was positioned opposite the sofa.
“What are you doing?” You asked a little nervously.
“You’ll see, darlin’. Now how ‘bout you come help me get outta these clothes?”
You didn’t hesitate for a second longer and you were on the male in a flash, your hands clawed at Joel’s T-shirt as you haphazardly pulled it over his head before you moved onto unbuckling his belt and helping him out of his jeans and boxers.
His cock sprung free from the restraints of his boxers and you instantly felt yourself flutter around air, you craved any part of the older male you could get your hands on.
Joel hissed softly as the cool air hit the tip of his swollen cock, the pre-cum already beading at his slit. You swallowed roughly as your eyes drank in the male in front of you, your soft hands stroked over his broad chest with a smile.
“C’mon darlin’, sit on the floor for me.” He said softly and you nodded compliantly.
You sat on the floor, a little way from the sofa and you couldn’t help but cover your modesty as you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror across from you. Joel tutted as he sat himself behind you, he spread his legs and pulled you back until you were flush against him.
“Look at you,’ Joel breathed, turning your face to look at the both of you in the mirror. “Look at how beautiful you look for me, spread your pretty little legs for me.” He held the tops of your thighs to gently pull your legs up, he stroked down your leg and pushed them open at your knees.
You wanted to close your legs, you wanted to look away but Joel had you captivated, you caught his gaze in the reflection opposite you and you smiled softly at the man.
“Don’t be shy, baby girl, you’re so beautiful, you should see yourself as I touch you.” He breathed against your neck before he peppered soft kisses there.
Your cheeks were glowing and any words you wanted to say had died long ago in your throat, you were completely hypnotised by the older male. You watched intently as his large hands stroked over your body, his fingers lightly danced over your inner thighs and you couldn’t help the way your body shook under his gentle touches.
“Stay still for me, princess.” He cooed with a soft laugh.
“C-can’t… Need you so bad and you’re teasing me.” You whined petulantly.
“No patience, huh?” He asked, nipping at your neck with a smile when you gasped.
“Joel! Please!!” You huffed as his fingers ghosted over where you wanted them the most.
You couldn’t help the way your legs instinctively spread further at his teasing fingertips which caused the older male to let out a breathy laugh.
“Atta girl, you get the idea. You wanna watch my fingers so bad, watch how they’re gonna play with your cunt.” He whispered lowly into your ear which caused your body to shudder.
Joel kept his eyes locked onto yours in the mirror’s reflection as his fingers finally fell to where you needed them most. He brushed his fingers through your damp slit, collecting your apparent arousal on them and he cocked a brow at you in the mirror.
“Hm,” he hummed happily. “This all for me, darlin’?”
You nodded weakly, just a small gasp escaping from your parted lips as Joel’s thick digits finally settled on your throbbing clit. He began to move his fingers in small circles and you were caught, entirely captivated and at his will, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the reflection unfolding in front of you.
Somewhere in the back of your mind you knew you should be ashamed, should close your legs and cover your modesty but Joel had rewired your brain; him and his stupid hands. His perfect, thick and magical hands. The hands that almost had you shaking already.
“You like that, sweetheart? Like watching my fingers play with your clit?” He asked smoothly, his breath fanning against your neck as he stared at you in the mirror.
You opened your mouth but the only sound that slipped from your lips was a shaky moan which just egged Joel on further; his fingers started to circle your sensitive bundle of nerves quicker and you felt your stomach start to flutter and tense.
He kept that same, smug smirk plastered over his face as he effortlessly sped his fingers up, he occasionally let his lips drop down and kiss at the sensitive skin of your neck. Your head began to lull back as Joel’s fingers worked quickly, to edge you closer to your release but he simply tutted at you.
“Nope, baby girl, you need to watch yourself as I make you cum, need to watch you shaking for me as you cum for me.” He whispered.
You forced your head upright, the overwhelming pleasure making your limbs feel heavy. Joel dipped his fingers lower so he could insert two into you, albeit slightly awkwardly but it was enough, you could feel his thick digits stroking your spongy walls.
With every move of his fingers, the heel of his palm nudged against your clit; the room was filled with your breathy moans, Joel’s soft encouragements and the obscene squelching of your wet pussy.
“J-Joel, I’m not gonna last. Feels, fuck.” You whimpered, your fingers clawing at the flesh on Joel’s legs. “Feels so fucking good, fuck.” You cursed.
“Atta girl, cum for me; look at me in the mirror, look into my eyes as I make you cum.” He growled possessively.
You nodded, your mouth hung agape and just as Joel curled his fingers upwards, you felt yourself clench around him. He removed his fingers from inside you and went to quickly rub over your clit as you shook through your orgasm. You felt your stomach curl as your walls clenched and then you felt the first few spurts of squirt leave your body, hearing the soft splashing noise as it hit the floor.
“Oh fuck, Joel — I’m, I’m sorry. I’ve never done that before. I’ll clean it up.” You breathed, closing your legs in embarrassment.
“Don’t you dare.” He smirked. “You don’t even realise how hot that is.”
Your cheeks flushed out of embarrassment and you smiled at the older male in the mirror, dropping your legs once again and seeing the mess you had made. No man before had ever made you feel as good as Joel did, your mind began to race just how amazing he would feel if he was in a better position and you weren’t sure if you would even be able to take it.
“Now,” Joel smiled over your shoulder, nipping at the flesh playfully. “Why don’t you sit in my lap, facing the mirror so you can see my cock sliding in and out of your tight pussy?” He challenged with a raised brow.
You nodded dumbly, you honestly couldn’t believe this was your friend, the charming gentleman who would help elderly people at the store, the one that plays gently with his niece; yet here he was, dominant and filthy.
You moved out of the way so Joel sit with his back against the sofa more and close his legs, he gave his throbbing cock and few strokes with the same hand he had inside of you moments ago. You couldn’t help but stare again, you were captivated and completely mesmerised by him; it was intoxicating.
You moved once again so you could position yourself, hovering above Joel’s cock, he held the base of his member to guide it into your tight hole and then he squeezed your hips roughly. Your eyes fluttered closed as Joel lowered you into his lap, his length felt impossibly long and thick, you could feel your walls stretching around him until you were completely bottomed out on him.
“Joel, fuck, so—“ you breathed out. “So big, Jesus.”
“I prefer being called Joel, but hey, I’ll respond to Jesus.” He teased, squeezing your hips. “So tight baby girl, so good for me.” He muttered, urging you to rise before sinking down again.
You rolled your eyes at the male but started a steady rhythm, lifting yourself and sitting back down continuously; Joel felt incredible, better than anyone you had been with before, with every time you lowered yourself, you could feel the thick tip of his cock nudge against your g-spot, you felt like you were seeing stars. Completely cock drunk on the older male.
“I can’t keep this up, my legs are shaking already and I feel like I’m gonna cum again.” You whispered, looking at Joel’s blissful, pleasured face.
“Come on, just a little bit more for me, just a bit more.” He groaned as he took his hands to hold onto your tits once again.
You shook your head, took one of his hands and wrapped it around your throat. “Like this.” You instructed.
“Fuck.” He groaned. “You’re trouble, darlin’.” He smirked and gently squeezed your throat as you continued to ride him.
You clenched around him in response, soft moans falling from your parted lips. Joel used his other hand to find your clit once again, his calloused fingers circling it expertly. You watched his fingers again in the mirror and that’s all it took; your eyes drank in the erotic scene. The older males hand around your throat, his fingers playing with your clit and his cock plunging in and out of your hole. You sank into his lap and circled your hips as you came around him, with a wrecked moan.
“Good girl, good girl, good girl.” Joel cooed in your ear, the praise sending shocks through you as you rode out your orgasm.
Joel released your throat and removed his fingers from your oversensitive clit as he let you regain your composure once again. He gently got you off his lap as you got your breath back.
“Let me sort this out.” You smirked, wrapping your hand around his cock.
“Hmm?” Joel smirked.
You spread his legs, and knelt between them and without another word, you sucked the males length into your mouth, sinking down until it hit the back of your throat.
Joel let out an animalistic groan and instinctively wrapped his fingers into your hair to steady himself from bucking up into your mouth. He looked at the reflection in front of him; his hair-covered chest was already heaving with effort as you started to bob your head in his lap. And then there was your body; your perfect body, with all its curves and lines, he watched as your ass moved with each bob and every now and then, he could catch a glimpse of your wet pussy.
You sank your mouth lower until your nose was buried in the thatch of dark hair at the base of his cock, your senses were filled with Joel, he scent was heady and intoxicating but even amongst all of that; you could taste yourself on the male, normally it would make your stomach turn but with him, you couldn’t get enough. You were eager to please him and you worked your mouth quicker, wrapping a hand around the base to move in sync with your mouth.
“I’m gonna cum, fuck, please don’t stop that, please don’t stop.” The older male moaned, his words almost sounding like a pleading whimper.
His fingers tightened in your hair as you pulled your mouth off with a pop. You looked up at the male through your lashes and flashed him a devilish grin.
“Cum on my face.” You stated bluntly as you stroked him quicker.
Joel was left speechless, he was dumbfounded as he watched you stick your tongue out, waiting to receive his load. You stroked him, your thumb brushing over the tip of his cock and that’s all he needed, his fingers still tangled in your head as his cock twitched; thick ropes of his cum hitting your tongue, painting your cheeks and chin.
You smirked at him and swallowed down his load with a soft moan. Joel’s head fell back onto the sofa and you sat back on your heels, face a total mess and feeling sticky with sweat all over.
“Fuck me.” Joel groaned, rubbing his face with his hands. “That was…”
“Unexpected?” You offered up with a soft laugh.
Joel laughed and looked back up at you, his cock twitched as he watched his load dribble down your face.
“Let me get you a cloth.” He laughed and kissed the top of your head before leaving the room.
He returned shortly after, as you were wiping your face and regaining some decorum, he put his mirror back up on the wall.
“How ‘bout we both go shower and then I actually teach you how to play that damned song? And how ‘bout this time, you don’t get distracted as easily on my fingers, hm?” He teased.
“Ugh, you’re the worst. Maybe don’t have such nice hands?” You retorted, pushing past him to run upstairs.
Maybe it was time for you to find a new guitar teacher.
———
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widxwed · 9 months
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TaskForce 141 x Male Medic Reader
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❛ Just let me help you ❜
- A / N : first post! Sorry if its short, I'm ill at the moment
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Simon " Ghost " Riley
💀 ⁾ he tries to hide his pain from you
💀 ⁾ when you do find out he tries to push you and tell you he's okay when he really isn't. he doesn't understand that you don't find him weak and they you actually want to help him. not call him weak
💀 ⁾ when you finally convince him to let you help him he is a bitch about it the whole time. he " doesn't need your help ". you obviously beg to differ
💀 ⁾ he stays still for you though. he doesn't fight you
💀 ⁾ ghost won't tell you where it hurts so you physically have to tuouch every where until he winces or tenses up. it pisses him off that you can read him so well
💀 ⁾ when you finish patching him up he thanks you begrudgingly. you tell him what he needs to do and he actually listens to you. he knows deep down you're a good medic and that he can trust you but he's just so full of himself he thinks he's so perfect and doesn't need help
💀 ⁾ you two are kinda friends. he won't admit it but he actually wants to be on your good side. he wants you to teach him everything you know even though he probably won't remember it. he'll bring injured tranies to you just to watch you work on their wounds. he's very obviously mesmerized by how you know exactly what to do
💀 ⁾ when he finds out you've been drowning yourself in work he puts a stop to it. he is pissed off at you, the army, and everyone for being " so god damn clumsy "
💀 ⁾ he'll tell you to stop and will drag you from your office. he's not gonna be the most gentle about it. he'll sit you down on the couch, make you some leftovers, and do all the paperwork he can just for you. he doesn't want you to get sick. he doesn't want their medic to be sick
💀 ⁾ he also just doesn't want you to feel ill because he cares a lot
💀 ⁾ when you're on your forced break and someone gets an injury he does what he can and says that you'll check them out later. he's not kind about that so people know not to get hurt when you're on a break
💀 ⁾ you're very much " built to be a medic ", meaning you aren't meant to fight people, more help people so when someone calls you weak ghost is immediately pissed off. he obviously tells them off saying things like: " he does so much more than you do, soldier " and " next time you tend to your own damn wounds then, yeah? ". he's would fight anyone for you no matter if you can stand up for yourself or not
💀 ⁾ he does learn to respect you and your work but he'll never take your help when you first offer it. he's too proud
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John " Soap " MacTavish
🧼 ⁾ he is one of the few people that will actually go straight to you with his pain. he won't hide it from you
🧼 ⁾ he knows your too smart for his dumb ass trying to hide things from you and you'll find out in your own way. he'd rather you just know rather than you worrying. you worrying makes him sad
🧼 ⁾ when he tell you he follows up by saying " I can take care of it myself, don't worry mo ghràdh. " you obviously worry and tell him that he needs your help and that you will help him one way or another. he huffs at you and just lets you. your not worth fighting. he'd rather waste his energy on anything else. plus, he loves and appreciates you way to much to argue ( trans : my darling )
🧼 ⁾ when he finally gives in to you wanting to help he pouts like a toddler about it. he trusts your judgement and steady hand though. he admits that you're doing a better job that he could just to let you know that he does care
🧼 ⁾ he doesn't want you to feel useless because he wants to help himself
🧼 ⁾ he moves way too much. it was bold of you to assume he wouldn't. he just has way too much energy
🧼 ⁾ soap will tell you where it hurts just to make it easier on you. he will make a big deal out of small pains to make you feel more useful and to keep you busy
🧼 ⁾ he just wants to spend more time with you
🧼 ⁾ once you finish soap thanks you over and over again. you roll your eyes at him and have to physically push him out of your office. he just wants medic's to feel appreciated. he's seen them get walked all over and he's tired of it. he makes sure to write down the advice and tell someone else what you said just so he doesn't forget
🧼 ⁾ he's just a hyper active golden retriever and your one of his favorite people
🧼 ⁾ you two are fairly close. you keep him calm when he gets over exited by something or he has way too much energy for his own good. it's a bit contagious though you have to admit
🧼 ⁾ he just wants you to feel appreciated, if you couldn't tell already. he is a medic supporter and is probably your biggest fan. he's your own personal cheerleader
🧼 ⁾ when someone insults you he's quick to jump to your defense and yell at them. even if you had something to say he's going to say what he wants first. he isn't going to let you be pushed around. he'll say things like " say that again, I dare you " and " he knows how to kill you, keep that in mind ". most of the time people leave you alone after that. if soap is mad at someone ghost is quick to follow and they don't want to deal with him
🧼 ⁾ he respects you and make sure you know he loves you and you're doing great. especially when you feel down because people aren't the most thankful to medics
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John Price
🚬 ⁾ being well.. the dad of the group and their main sniper when he gets hurt its a big deal to the whole team. he shouldn't have even gotten hurt in the first place. that wasn't his job
🚬 ⁾ he doesn't even get a choice whether or not he gets to tell you. gaz and soap drag him into your office to check on him
🚬 ⁾ he tries to tell you that he's okay and won't let you tend to his wounds. he will fight you as nicely as he possibly can become he is convinced he is fine and that no, he doesn't help
🚬 ⁾ when you can finally convince him to just check him over price sighs but lets you help. he tries to tell you that he really doesn't need help but other than that he tells you that he appreciates the help and that you're doing well but he doesn't need your help. he tries to tell you that litterly anyone else could use your help. you have to physically get him to shut up
🚬 ⁾ when you do patch up his wounds they are bad most of the time because he doesn't just let the other person go. no, he has to kick their ass and win which means he gets more hurt than he should have been
🚬 ⁾ you're very gentle with him because if you're not he flinches or makes his pained dad noises ( we all know what I'm talking about... )
🚬 ⁾ he is just trying to convince you he doesn't need help. do I need to say it again? he doesn't need your help
🚬 ⁾ when you finish patching him up he's very thankful and tries to tell you he knows how to take care of his wounds. he does but when you pout at him he will listen. he really does just want to make you happy but at the same time he doesnt want you to waste your time on someone who already knows what he's doing
🚬 ⁾ he see's you like a son. he acts like you're his son too. the amount of times you've accidentally him dad and he's accidentally called you son or " bud " makes you two laugh. you just call him dad now and he acts like your his son and it works for you both because you need a amry dad... who doesn't. he just wants to take care of you
🚬 ⁾ he knows you often drown yourself in your work and he drags you out of that. he tells you that you deserve to have you time and that you need rest. he will physically drag you from your office and make you lay down. he'll make you food and hot coco ( or your favorite hot drink ) and just sit with you. he wants to make sure you're okay. he will be your caretaker if thats what you absolutely need. he's your army dad after all
🚬 ⁾ when you get teased for your job price will walk over and just stand there, an eyebrow raised. he even looks like an angry dad. he will tell them to go away if they don't pick up on the hint of him standing there. if it continues after that he will make them run laps until thry physically drop. he explains that medic's are meant to be appreciated. if anyone thinks otherwise they will also be running
🚬 ⁾ he appreciates what you do for others, but not himself. he doesn't need help
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Kyle " Gaz " Garrick
💣 ⁾ the amount of times youve had to treat him for the most random ass wounds is insane. he doesn't even have to say anything for you to know he's accidentally hurt himself by doing dumb things
💣 ⁾ most are burn wounds from him accidentally exploding something. he smiles like an idiot cause he just knows what you'll say. its always something along the lines of : " again? " or " you're not a firefighter, stop acting like one "
💣 ⁾ he always smiles and says " you love me ". you can't help but laugh at him
💣 ⁾ he doesn't mind going to see you. your always so gentle with him and you don't make him talk to you. when he's excited about something you have him talk about it so 1) he stays still and 2) you can listen to his voice when he allows you too. he likes to listen to you too though, he'll always ask questions about the machines or what your doing
💣 ⁾ when he sits still long enough for you to treat his wounds he gives you a general area of where the pain is. its always a scavenger hunt to find where he burned himself this time
💣 ⁾ when its a battle wound he bleeds a lot for some reason. that means you have to work fast and it also works in your favor, you don't have to go hunting for his wound. gaz normally needs to be sedated so he stops moving so much or wincing. you do really feel bad but you don't want him to be hurt more than he already is
💣 ⁾ he tries to stay still for your sake, really! but he just can't seem to sit still. he has to be moving. you normally work around this by giving him something he can mess with while you work on his wounds
💣 ⁾ when you finish he thanks you once and only once before hurrying off to get out of your space. every time you have to fix him up he'll bring you your favorite candy. he'll leave it on your desk with a note that normally says something along the lines of : " I'm so sorry ", " it will happen again ", or " you're becoming my own personal medic ". they're always signed with " -K.G " and a messy heart with your initials in it. its always stuck to the bag of candy. you've kept all his notes in a drawer just to make him feel appreciated. and to tell him that you really do enjoy the notes
💣 ⁾ you two are quite close due to the amount of visits he has to your office. he gets mad and pouts like a toddler when he cant get you as his doctor. he'll pretty much refuse service from any other medic. you're his favorite. he just wants to be close to you. plus, if soap and price trust you and like you so will he. no questions asked. you're also so kind with him. he just thinks your an amazing person all around
💣 ⁾ he thinks of you like a younger / older brother and is very obvious about it. he never really had a brother and you fit what he thinkd a brother is perfectly
💣 ⁾ he's the one that figures out you're over working yourself. he tells everyone else because he's way too scared to get involved and make you mad. he just wants to make sure you're okay. even if its indirectly helping you out
💣 ⁾ when anyone teases you gaz gets involved. no questions asked. he isn't good at being angry when talking so he quickly gets physical. he isn't afraid to start a fight as long as its to help his family. you normally talk him out of it but he still isn't happy. he complains to price about it and makes him do something about it. he isn't going to let you get shoved around for doing the job you wanted. and the job you we're so god damn good at. you were the few medics that actually took their job seriously
💣 ⁾ he appreciates everything you do and voices that. he will always tell you how amazing you are. whether its through notes, words, or gifts. he very obviously loves giving you gifts. just to cheer you up or make you feel loved
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Alejandro Vargas
🗡 ⁾ he's a bit of an idiot and gets hurt on everything. he refuses to see you a lot of the time. normally rudy will force him to see you
🗡 ⁾ he's too proud to let you treat him
🗡 ⁾ most of the time you treat him for small cuts that he accidentally did just walking to fast. sometimes you have to treat him for exhaustion because he overworks himself constantly and can't ever seem to pull himself away from his work. you always sigh at him and give him medication and watch him to make sure he drinks water. you also have rudy keep an eye on him for the next week
🗡 ⁾ when its a battle wound you normally get him when he's unconscious anyways. he puts his own injuries to the side to make sure rudy is okay. you always lecture him after about how he actually needs to take care of himself
🗡 ⁾ he always manages to get wounds in the most obscure spots. like, my man, were you trying to get the award of " the most dumbass to ever dumbass "? he always fist fights over actually shooting someone. that makes him end up with bloody knuckles and you always get so mad because theres not a lot you can do about it and you don't want to see him hurting
🗡 ⁾ he make him stay in his own hospital room for a few days after just so you can get it into his head that he needs to take care of himself and do as you ask. if he doesn't listen you make him stay longer. he always calls you mean but he knoes your right
🗡 ⁾ you've gotten him to stay in the hospital longer and rest by asking him to teach you some Spanish. it works like a charm. he gets so involved he forgets he's even resting. you alsi use this trick when your checking and cleaning his wounds. when your rebandaging his wounds he is so focused on your movements so he knows how to wrap wounds
🗡 ⁾ he does thank you. but its through small gifts like new medical supplies, pocket knives, guns, some things that are sweet but are definitely military based
🗡 ⁾ one time he gave you some flowers
🗡 ⁾ your not friends per say but you are close. he's like your uncle, your very annoying uncle. he can really only stand you because your good friends with rudy. or at least thats what he says. he really does want to be your friend, truly, but he's too scared that your mad at him for being such a brat when you treat him. he asks you if you two are actually friends / close or if you only tolerate him because you have to. you say something along the lines of " i could ask you the same ". you teo do become friends over time. after that, you wouldn't trade him for the world
🗡 ⁾ when he finds out your overworking yourself he uses your words against you and treats you just like you had him when he was exhausted and wasn't taking care of himself. it pisses you off but you're happy to know he cares about you
🗡 ⁾ the moment any rude comment twoards you slips out of anyones mouth he is immediately involved. he is normally cussing at them in Spanish while shoving them away from you angrily. he isn't letting you take shit. he knows you deserve better. hes a bit over protective of you. he always says its because you're his nephew and its his job to protect you
🗡 ⁾ he really dows respect and love you. not just as a medic but as a human being in general. your constant kindness and your convincing you attitude is admirable in his eyes
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Rodolfo " Rudy " Parra
🔦 ⁾ he's such a sweetie. he's one of the few people that will go into your office without a fight. he doesn't want you worrying. he also makes sure to keep his trips short
🔦 ⁾ he doesn't want you overworking for his sake
🔦 ⁾ most of the injuries you see him for are injuries from battle. he normally doesn't have a lot but they're always pretty bad. you always sigh as he's sent on another mission. he's like your other dad. you don't want him hurt at all. you're always more rough with him. it makes it easied for you to work faster and he has been hurt so many times he doesn't mind the pain
🔦 ⁾ you've had to sadate him multiple times because you know how painful his wounds would be. even if he really doesn't mind the pain
🔦 ⁾ if hes wounded with a wound you wouldn't wish on another human being you're sadating him. no questions asked. you will knock him over the head with a bat if you have to
🔦 ⁾ you usually have him under observation. no matter the wound. you just can't be careful enough. you want to make sure he's actually okay
🔦 ⁾ i mean, rudy gets the most dumb wounds ever that are so painful you even wince when he moves to fast
🔦 ⁾ normally when you do your routine checks or your removing his stitches you talk to him in what Spanish alejandro has been teaching you. he'll laugh about how stupid you sound but will help you out where he can. you're mainly distracting himself from his wounds over distracting him from his wounds
🔦 ⁾ when you finish up or his wounds are healed he thanks you. he'll hug you. if you don't like hugs he'll tell you he's proud of you and he'll bring you food. most times at lunch you don't eat anyways so what the harm in bringing you food, right? he likes to sit with you at lunch anyways
🔦 ⁾ this is also his way of making sure you stop working for a while
🔦 ⁾ you both are really good friends. he's over protective of you and you're always worried about him so it works for you both. his constant need to make sure nobody is messing with you and your constant need yo make sure he's okay and not hurting himself by accident makes you inseparable aside from when you're both working. thats one of the few times you two aren't seen together
🔦 ⁾ he's tried so hard to stop you ftom overworking yourself but it just doesn't seem to work. you always manage to do it anyways. he'll lock your office and take your keys if he has to. you do not need to be constantly working. he doesn't need two alejandro situations on his hands. one is enough
🔦 ⁾ when someone makes a rude comment or teases you or you just seem uncomfortable with someone at all he will get involved. you never know how he even manages to find out. he always does. its a bit scary but its nice to feel loved and protected. and when rudy is protecting you alejandro is also protecting you indirectly. he will make that person run and apologize. then next time they get hurt he makes sure they get one of the meanest medics the base has. he will not let anyone get away with bullying his favorite medic
🔦 ⁾ he respects and appreciates you for what you do and he voices that. you'll always be his favorite ' kid '. he always makes sure you know he loves you. no matter what
This was not proof read! I apologize for spelling / grammer mistakes
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lanawinterscigarettes · 3 months
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Lady Oswald (Clara Oswald x reader)
Summary: when traveling in Victorian era London, you and Clara slip away to have some much more private fun
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Warnings: SMUT, vaginal fingering (Clara receiving), gender neutral reader, playful/giggly sex, roleplay (Clara pretends to be a high class Victorian lady while you tempt her away from her unsuspecting husband), brief swearing
A/N: roleplay sex must happen at some point in the whoniverse given how often they pop around to different time periods and dress up accordingly. this fic helps reflect that because I'm a whore for Clara in Victorian clothing
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"My, Lady Oswald, you sure do look lovely this evening," you praised highly as your eyes scanned her beautifully dressed frame with obvious interest.
She let out a soft giggle at your flirtation, giving you a half curtsey as a means to humor you. "Why, thank you. You don't look so bad yourself."
You smirked at her response, casually making your way closer. "Tell me, how are things with your husband?" Your tone held underlying disdain for the fictional figure you were referring to.
"Oh, he's out of town again. He leaves me alone for weeks at a time, would you believe it?" Clara did a good job playing the role of a dissatisfied housewife, you had to admit. "I get so lonely, staying in that big house all by myself."
"Oh, I'm sure you do," you openly sympathized, your hands leaving some not-so-subtle touches along her waist and lower back as you spoke. "You know, if I was married to you, I'd never leave you alone."
"I can believe that. From the way it seems by how you're touching me, you'd never let me have a free moment to myself," she jokingly pointed out, though she made no attempts to move away from you, and in fact moved towards your touch.
"Perhaps we should go somewhere more private," you suggested in a low murmur as your hands settled on her hips. "You might be a bit more comfortable away from prying eyes."
Her eyes lit up at the mention of getting to be alone with you. "How thoughtful of you." She leaned in closer so that her face was mere inches away from yours, a mischievous smirk in her eyes. "Well then, lead the way."
You did just that, taking her hand in yours and finding a secluded room in the expensively furnished house. Your lips were on hers as soon as the door shut behind you, kissing her with all the built up passion you had within you.
She moaned softly into the kiss, her arms reaching up to wrap around your neck, pulling you in close. "What would my husband say if he found me now?" She mused out loud, causing you to let out a chuckle at how she was still playing into the role she'd chosen for herself.
"He doesn't ever have to find out, so you don't need to worry about it." One of your hands slipped down to start pulling up the bottom of her dress, eliciting a gasp from her in mock offense.
"How dare you! I'm a married woman," she said in an over the top manner, acting as of you'd just committed a crime. You rolled your eyes affectionately at her dramatics.
"Oh, please. If anything, you should be upset that he never bothers to touch you the same way I do," you lightly teased, your hands fighting to find the end of the long, flowy piece of fabric. "God damn it, just how long is this thing?"
Clara snorted in laughter at your visible frustration. "Here, let me help you with that." She pull the skirt part of her dress up far enough for you to slip your hand under it with ease.
"Oh, thank God. It was either that or untying your corset, and I really did not want to have to fight with that," you commented as your hand moved underneath her dress, caressing her thigh.
She smiled in amusement at your words, biting her lip at the feeling of your hand against her. "I guess it's a good thing I decided to forgo the stockings, then."
"Mm, a very good thing." Your fingertips tiptoed up the soft flesh of her thighs until you found the waistband of her underwear, pulling it down just enough for you to slip your hand beneath it.
Gasping at the sudden friction of your fingers against her folds, she arched her back and pushed her hips closer towards your hand. "Oh, God yes..."
You didn't spend long teasing her, as she was already plenty wet. Slipping two fingers inside her, you leaned your body into hers, your lips brushing against her jaw as you slowly thrusted in and out. "There you go... That's it, sweetheart..."
She whimpered in pleasure, turning her head in your direction and capturing your lips in a tender and loving kiss. "It feels so good, please don't stop," she mumbled against your lips, a soft moan coming from her as your fingers moved deeper.
"I won't, sweetheart, I promise," you reassured her gently, moving your fingers in and out of her in a slow and steady rhythm. Her soft pants and moans began filling the room the longer you touched her for, her hands reaching out to grip onto the front of your coat.
"Oh- oh, God-" She tilted her head back against the wall, closing her eyes as she embraced the pleasure washing over her. "I- I think I'm getting close-" She warned you, her hips starting to move in sync with your hand.
You nodded as you picked up the pace, your other hand finding its way down between her legs so that you could rub her swollen and sensitive clit. A loud moan exited from her lips at the feeling, and it wasn't long after that her body tensed up as she came, clinging to you desperately.
Panting heavily, she pressed her face into your chest while you slipped your fingers out of her and murmured soft words of praise in her ear. "You did so well for me, sweetheart. I'm so proud of you."
A bashful grin covered her face as she peered up at you. "Would it be too much for me to ask for a round two?" You simply let out a laugh as you pulled her in for another kiss.
You both returned at least another twenty minutes later, hastily fixing your outfits so hopefully no one would realize what you'd been doing. Clara's hair was sticking somewhat to her forehead from sweat, and her makeup was a little smudged, but otherwise you didn't think anyone would notice that something was off.
"Where on earth have you two been? I've been looking for you for ages!" The Doctor's voice asked as he popped up from seemingly out of nowhere, quickly making his way over to you.
"Oh, we just got a bit lost, that's all," you lied casually, Clara giggling as you shot her a playful wink. "Shall we, m'lady?" You held out one of your arms to her as you spoke in a playful manner.
She took it gladly, looping her hand through with a bright smile. "After you, my dear," she responded in an equally playful way. The two of the gave each other a knowing look, leading the Doctor to wonder just what the two of you had been up to when you were gone.
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Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated <3
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mephinomaly · 6 months
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[TL] Backdoor - an Original Scenario written by Akira
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Backdoor is a short original story written by Akira-sensei to accompany the release of the Crossroad animated series. I recommend watching it before reading this, especially if you haven't read the original Crossroads.
Please enjoy my translation below!
Backdoor
I break in from the backdoor. I feel like a super cool outlaw from one of those movies. Avoid the countless traps, blindly shoot the enemies like bang bang bang! Feast your eyes, idiots of the world!
I am the great Oogami Koga…!
"..."
By the back door is a guy with blond hair who’s sorting the trash out, probably works here part time. Since I came in and started acting like a weird middle schooler, he looks at me, surprised.
“Hey, you–” Part-time-kun (tentative name) puts his hand out with a totally bored expression. “One thousand yen. It’s the entrance fee.”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry.”
“Next time come in from the proper entrance, ‘kay?” Part-time-kun (tentative name) doesn’t lecture me any further and exchanges my 1000 yen bill for a sleek plastic card.  If I show this at the bar, I can get a drink and stuff. I thank him. “Enjoy your night~♪”
Part-time-kun (tentative name) is side-eyeing me, and at this point in time I’m so embarrassed all I want to do is go home but I pull myself together and head inside. 
I’m in a cheap underground livehouse in the downtown area, near Yumenosaki Private Academy, the school I’m going to attend. 
My sanctuary is here.
My god is here.
***
The livehouse I've been hanging around in lately is built a little weird. The entrance to the stairs is in a back alley. At the bottom of the stairs, there’s two corridors, one leading left, the other right. There’s a lot of soundproof doors, standing one after another. The majority of these small rooms are booths, meant to be hired out by amateur bands to practise in. If you look through the window of one, it’s normally empty since nobody really uses them.
Well, these days people don’t practise by actually picking up an instrument, playin’ until their fingers hurt.  I’ve been doin’ that too lately, sittin’ at home ‘n staring blankly at my computer screen. I dunno. 
At the end of the empty corridor, there’s the employees only room, the kitchen, and the back entrance which I found by accident when I was trespassing. 
I’ve been short on cash lately because I’ve been buyin’ like, introductory books to playin’ the guitar ‘n stuff so I’ve been sneakin’ in that way ‘cos then I don’t hafta pay the entrance fee. No-one’s ever around anyway. 
“I won’t be able to come in that way next time,” I complain as I walk down the corridor in low spirits, stopping when I find the soundproof room I’m looking for. 
The biggest, most extravagant door is in the middle of the corridor. At the back, at the heart of this place— is the livehouse, or I guess you could call it a music hall. 
“♪~♪~♪”
I open the weighted door and my entire body is blasted by music. 
This is it. This electrifying feeling.  
At the back of this relatively wide space is a really nice stage, and that’s where bands that have signed up to perform do so. The entrance fee also covers one drink, but you can order more food and drink and enjoy the show at the same time. It’s your average livehouse. I dunno though. I’m underaged, so I stick to a non-alcoholic tomato juice whilst enjoying the show.
Since this place is close to Yumenosaki, a lot of the customers are scruffy-looking students. I never thought young me would come to a place like this. I’m just in ordinary clothes. This place pays attention to its customer base, so there's not a drop of alcohol or a single cloud of cigarette smoke to be seen. Only super cool music is playing. It’s echoing. 
“~...♪”
My God is in the middle of the stage, singing enthusiastically. The lyrics are in English, and I understand almost none of them. The lyrics are probably about wishing for world peace, or religious sacrilege; something complicated but meaningful. When I asked what he was singing about later, he said something like “I’m so happy because my cute little brother has recovered from his cold!”
Is he stupid? Or am I the stupid one for being so entranced by him?
But. I didn’t know that sort of thing back then, so I was genuinely moved by him.
Illuminated by the dim stage lighting, his pale corpse-like skin stood out in the shadows— him.
Crimson eyes like hellfire. 
Black hair that melts into the darkness.
From between his seductive lips that are sexier than any girls’, comes a masculine, deep voice. 
He looked simultaneously like an angel that could rescue the world and a devil that could destroy it too. Whether angel or devil, his singing voice was powerful enough to completely change the very fabric of this world.
“~...♪”
The name of the person I respect the most in this world is Sakuma Rei. 
My God.
***
I was born and raised in an unremarkable environment. 
We’re middle class. My dad’s an office worker and he earns a pretty decent wage, and my mum’s a housewife, which is rare nowadays. 
They bought a nice detached house in a nice place. Both of my parents like kids and like taking care of others, so I grew up pretty pampered. I’m aware that since I was spoiled, I grew up to be a selfish, cocky brat. I was given whatever I wanted. I didn’t know what I really wanted though since it would be handed to me before I could even think about it. When I got to an age where I didn’t need to be looked after, my parents got a dog to satisfy their overflowing need to help others (?). His name’s Leon. He’s the best dog ever. 
I fussed over him too, but not in the way my parents did. Everyday, they’d treat him like he was a baby, doting on him, probably the same way they treated me. It made me sulk a bit. 
I could tell that my parents’ interest had shifted from me to Leon. Leon isn’t bad. He was bought to be loved. He’s a pedigree, he was born for this, to be doted on. He’s a really good boy and whenever I felt sad he’d snuggle up close to me and put his face next to mine. So I wouldn’t be lonely. So I knew I wasn’t alone. 
But I felt that the amount of love I had received up until this point was steadily decreasing, and it made me anxious. 
—Alas! Miserable, spoiled Oogami Koga-kun!
But I wasn’t shameless enough of a person to say “pay attention to me instead of the dog!” Leon deserved to be loved as much as I did— I wandered around town, searching for someone other than my parents who could love me.
I was starved, yearning. I looked like a stray dog scavenging around for something to fill me up. My parents aren’t bad. Neither is Leon. I’m probably not bad either. 
I’ve already finished compulsory education. I had reached the age where I could fend for myself. So I should have. I’m sure other people are doing that. We leave the watchful eye of our parents, tackle teenagehood, and find out who we are. Find what we want to do with our lives. After countless trial and error, I found what I was looking for— Sakuma Rei. His music satisfied what my soul had been craving. 
***
The performance ends, and Sakuma Rei disappears behind the stage. 
I’ve never been on stage before, so I don’t know what it looks like back there. There’s probably a passageway that leads to a green room or something. The livehouse is weirdly dark and it’s hard to see much of anything, so it really looks like Sakuma Rei vanished like a ghost. 
The person who fills the gap in my heart, vanishes. 
So I grow anxious again and begin blindly searching for him everywhere. I make my way through the livehouse, pushing through the swathes of people who came here to see Sakuma Rei.
—Sakuma Rei, Sakuma Rei, Sakuma Rei.
My soul wants him. 
Of course, I’m not part of his family. We’re not even acquaintances, let alone friends. He’s probably never even heard of me. But I didn’t mind either way. I found him, met him, fell in love with him, and had my yearning quenched. That alone made me thankful. Sakuma Rei, without a doubt, saved me. That’s all I wanted. I was just a sheep, one of hundreds who came here. To me, he was the night sky, something I thought I could never reach. I didn’t mind just watching from afar. That’s how I really feel. If I never got to see him closeup, I’d be fine with that.
And yet. 
“What you’re drinking looks good.”
Suddenly, the tomato juice I’d ordered, which I didn’t end up liking because it was weirdly sweet, is taken from my hand by someone next to me. 
—The hell, bastard? That’s mine. When I go to look up at whoever grabbed my drink with a belligerent expression, I realise it’s Sakuma Rei. 
“If you’re not drinking it, I’ll have it. Singing’s got me workin' up a sweat.”
Naturally, my body stiffens.
That’s Sakuma Rei.
If I reach out my hand, I could touch him.
I’m so surprised by what I originally thought was something that could never happen, I have nothing clever to say and instead, like an idiot, I freeze with my mouth ajar. 
“What’s up? Oh, you’re at that age where you think indirect kisses are embarrassing, right…?” Sakuma Rei says with a somewhat apologetic expression. Then he says something absurd.
“Oopsies, sorry~…Don’t worry, I take full responsibility for stealing your first time. Mhm.”
That was the first conversation we had, and it’s not exactly something I can brag about to anyone. 
Ever since then, ever since that moment, I’ve been at the mercy of this arrogant person.
***
I step through the backdoor.
The unmotivated-looking blond employee is slacking off on his phone again today– he’s a playboy called Hakaze and is actually the manager of this place. He’s also supposedly one of my senpai from Yumenosaki. He glances up from his phone at me with a gross expression.
“Look look. I just got another girl's number. I’m typing out my first message now.”
“Shut up, I don’t know you. Don’t talk to me, playboy.”
About two years have passed since I had my first conversation with Sakuma Rei, Sakuma Rei-senpai, a conversation I’d rather not remember. 
I’ve got a bit taller and a bit stronger. 
I practised intensely so my guitar and singing skills have somewhat improved. 
Whilst I was growing, Yumenosaki had gone to the dogs.
Yumenosaki Private Academy’s an idol school steeped in a rich history and tradition. But inside, it was rotting. 
I wanted to be like Sakuma-senpai, so I followed him without thinking and took Yumenosaki’s entrance exam like an idiot. I was blinded. I didn’t know anything. Every Yumenosaki student is shit. Naturally, I noticed that since I frequented the livehouse in order to see Sakuma-senpai. 
A rotted miniature garden where those with dead eyes spend their sad youth reeking of corpses. Sakuma-senpai was weirdly energetic despite the backdrop of death, so I got it wrong. No. I think I was just an immature, stupid brat, so I didn’t notice. 
Sakuma-senpai had those same dead eyes. 
In the mountain of dead bodies, he was clinging onto life. He was the only one who didn’t want to die, he was the only one praying for something to happen.
No-one could save him. 
A bespectacled monk boy from a temple came along and evoked anger in him, trying to make him into a human— into something more than human.  The stupid, lost dog just wagged his tail and followed the hand that fed him. 
We didn’t realise that the person that was always grinning like a fool, and living what appeared to be a happy life, was actually suffering more than anyone. He desperately needed help. You can see why we didn’t notice; he looked like he was having fun.
When he stood on stage with me and Shitty Glasses as Deadmanz, he lived each day like it was his last. He looked genuinely happy—he looked like he was alive. But that was only a short-lived dream. Once he steps off stage, the spell breaks, and he turns back into a corpse.
A revolution takes place at the rotted Yumenosaki.
Sakuma-senpai was seen as a cause of evil and exterminated by those who claimed to be on the side of justice. The evil monsters had been defeated, and everyone lived happily ever after. It’s creepy when a corpse moves. Yeah, nothing will change if you don’t exterminate all the gross monsters, right?
—Fuck you, you bastards!
***
“Wan-chan, will you be singing today too?” The bored-looking playboy asks, on his phone as usual. Guess he doesn’t really want to talk to me. “You should stop because you’re dampening the mood. People think you're one of Sakuma-san’s henchmen, so people think you’re evil too and will persecute you like he was.”
“I don’t care. I… I’m.” I growl, the shallow first person pronoun Sakuma-senpai sometimes used slips from my mouth [1]. I cling onto what I’ve got left of him. “I just wanna sing with all my energy. I don’t care what the rest of you do.”
“But you’re creating problems for the livehouse. A customer pokes fun at you or Sakuma-san, you get angry, and you start a fight—I really don’t want things like that happening.”
“I won't create any problems, I’ll be on my best behaviour.”
“Will you really? But you’re like the rest of the customers— You always look like you’re going to start arguing with other Yumenosaki students. You come in from the back entrance like, everytime, to avoid any trouble, right?”
“I still pay the entrance fee.”
“Why do you go out of your way to perform here even though you’ve got to jump over so many dangerous obstacles to get here? It’s super bothersome.” Playboy's grumbling as usual. He pulls out a key and throws it to me. “Here. I’ll give you a key to a room so you can change clothes and get ready. If you swear to not cause any more trouble, you can become our new breadwinner, Wan-chan. I actually want to cheer you on,” the playboy said and laughed insincerely. 
I hate his demeanour, so I snap back. 
“Don’t call me ‘Wan-chan’.”
“Sakuma-san calls you ‘Wanko’. I call you ‘Wan’ as in, ‘number one’. Honest, honest to god.” [2] Playboy’s face goes serious for a split second and he waved his hands around like he was trying to hide his embarrassment. “You can be my number one breadwinner, like Sakuma-san.”
“Don’t hafta tell me twice.”
Just like Sakuma-senpai, I’ll become the best guy in the world. My voice alone will excite the crowd. A flirtatious glance will have women swooning. With a single look, even the strongest of men will bow down to me. In an instant, their souls are gripped, I captivate everyone. I’ll become like Sakuma Rei too. But the journey is a long one. “Let’s go. I’m singin’ tonight.”
I reach my booth, key in hand, and change into my costume. I take out my guitar, who’s as important to me as my parents and Leon are. Once I’m ready, I head to the stage. To tackle this head on.
“Shake, you fools! Imma show you what real music is!”
I sing. My guitar does too.
Just like Sakuma-senpai did.
Right now I’m blindly copying him, but I pray that one day, I’ll be able to be just like him.
I hope this song reaches him, wherever he is. 
***
Once, I was starving, yearning. But when I found Sakuma Rei and his music, my soul was satisfied. 
—Now it’s my turn. 
“Rock ‘n’ roll…!”
Come on, idiots of the world. I’ll open your eyes with my music. I’ll become your God. 
~~~~
Translation notes:
[1]  in the line above this one Koga says ‘俺...俺様は’ or ‘ore…ore sama wa’. Oresama being the first person pronoun rei sometimes used, and its very egotistical.
[2] number one is pronounced as, in this case, ‘nanbaa wan’
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