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cordeliawhohung · 3 months

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When Your Blood Meets Mine - Part 3

Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!Reader - part twelve of "soft spot"

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it's scary.

warnings: anxiety, talk/thoughts of abortion, medical talk,

wc: 5.9k

You would have given anything in the world to have your mom hold you.

You wished she was just a simple phone call away and not buried in a rotting grave out of your reach. You wished you could hear her voice, hear her tell you that it was all going to be okay, that you would survive this too just like you had everything else. But she was long gone. Nothing more than drying bones in a coffin. The only comfort you would receive from her would be whatever your memory held, which at that point wasn’t much. Fond memories of her had decayed just as much as she had.

So you were alone, which was such a strange feeling because it had been such a long time since you felt so isolated from everyone else. Even the apartment didn’t seem as welcoming as usual. It was as if the walls knew you shouldn’t have been there, panicking in silence as pure anxiety rattled your chest, but you couldn’t go back to work. The idea of facing Simon while you harbored a secret like that made your stomach twist so violently you felt queasy. That sickness festering in you had been no illness at all, but a child.

Simon’s child.

It wasn’t supposed to be possible. Simon’s work was important and demanding, and both of you were in agreement that having a kid wasn’t the right thing to do at that stage in your lives. He would leave for weeks, or even months at a time for missions, and he made it clear he would never want to leave you alone with a child. You had been on birth control for the last few years because of it and of course, of course, it failed. But it made everything else make sense. Your pregnancy explained all of the symptoms you had confused with the same sickness your mother had. Your achy, tender breasts were not sore just from the fat necrosis, but because of the hormone changes. The complete fatigue and brain fog that ravaged your body wasn’t from some cancer eating away at you, but the child growing inside of you.

Your anxiety began to get the better of you, and before it was able to choke you, you wandered out of the entryway and into the living room where you collapsed on the couch with your face in your hands. There was no time for you to think about all the signs you had missed the last few weeks because you only had a few hours until Simon would be home. You were going to have to tell him, but you had no idea how. Simply admitting it didn’t feel right, but it didn’t feel like a cause for celebration, either. Neither of you had ever talked about children, save for the conversation about how that time in your lives wasn’t a good time to have them. Would he want you to get rid of it? Should you get rid of it? After everything you had been through, would you truly be stable enough to take care of a kid? Or would your ever burning anger eventually turn you into the same monster your father had become?

No. No, you wouldn’t make a good mother at all.

Just as your despair began to manifest in wet streaks along your face, an innocent chirp caught your attention. Pulling your hands from your face, you were met by Boo’s empty and innocent expression as he stared up at you from the floor with large, yellow eyes. Despite your tears, you did your best to muster a smile as you patted your lap, inviting him up on the couch with you. Without hesitation he jumped up and made himself comfortable at your side. His purring was loud and crackly, and as he leaned against you he reached a small, deformed paw toward you where he rested on your stomach.

“You little jerk,” you said with a trembling lip and a breathy laugh. “You knew all this time and didn’t tell me.”

Completely unaware of your emotional turmoil, all he did was coo in response as if to confirm your suspicions before he snuggled even closer and closed his eyes. It was all so innocent and pure that for a single, fleeting moment, things almost felt like they were going to be okay. After all, surely there was nothing worse than being trapped in a basement.

But your absence didn’t go unnoticed for long. What turned into an appointment that was supposed to take an hour or two quickly turned into half the day, and then some. For a while, Simon had thought nothing of it until he wandered into the front office to file paperwork only to realize his favorite secretary wasn’t at her desk. The plaque that read the name Riley sat on an abandoned station, and as he put his papers in your basket, he realized your computer was shut down. Not only that, but the tower was cold to the touch.

You had never returned from your appointment.

Unwelcome thoughts clouded his skull as he marched out of the room and towards his own office. Earlier that morning you had done your best to insist that you were fine despite your trepidation, that you didn’t need him to come with you. He was foolish enough to believe you. You had acted so unlike yourself the entire time leading up to your appointment. Always anxious and jumpy with hands that refused to leave the ache in your side alone. And now you were gone, which wasn’t a good sign. He should have known better. Should have convinced you to let him come with you because he should have been there to support you even if you claimed the visit was quick and simple.

As the door to his office closed behind him, the idea that he was wrong about those lumps being fat necrosis overwhelmed his mind. He wasn’t a fucking doctor, he only told you about it because it made sense at the time and he wanted to ease your mind, to normalize it, to not make you feel like a spectacle. But the fear that it was something more, that something was wrong, gave him an uneasy feeling in his stomach that he hadn’t felt since he yanked Bukin off of you all those years ago.

Simon didn’t even bother to sit at his desk before he yanked his phone free from his pocket. Within moments both your name and number illuminated his screen and there was no hesitation in calling you. The line rang for only a few moments before your hoarse voice greeted him on the other side.

“Hello?”

“Doin’ alright, love?”

There was no point in beating around the bush. Simon was worried, terribly so, and it almost felt silly. It wasn’t as if you had vanished off of the face of the earth or anything, but there was this gut feeling that ravaged his senses, rendering him unable to do anything except panic.

“I’m fine, Simon,” you said with a humorous giggle. But there was something else to your tone. A tiredness that not even your little laugh could cover. Not exactly what he would consider fine.

“You had me worried when I couldn’t find you in the office,” he admitted. “Are you still at the doctors?”

“No, I uh, I went home,” you admitted. “They did a biopsy in the office so I’m feeling a little sore. Thought it was a good idea to take the rest of the day off.”

Simon hummed, half in agreement and half in thought. “What did the doctor say?”

“She thinks you’re right. Just fat necrosis. She just did the biopsy to be safe, but she’s confident it’ll come back fine, so…”

So that was it. Everything was alright, except somehow it wasn’t. There was something about the tone of your voice that was off. It reminded him of all the other times he tried to draw information out of you, yet you hesitated too much to fully get it out. You weren’t lying, and he knew that, but there was something else you hid from him, something he wasn’t sure he could get you to admit over the phone.

There wasn’t much left to say besides a quick I love you and a goodbye, and yet when the line went silent Simon couldn’t say that the achy feeling in his stomach was remedied. Between your tone and your lack of communication throughout the day, something was deeply wrong. Something that he couldn’t fix while he was on base.

Work could wait. He needed to get home to you.

Soon after he shoved his phone into his pocket, Simon swung open the door to his office only to be met by the confused and surprised face of Johnny. His arm was half raised as if he had been ready to knock on the door, but he awkwardly lowered it as Simon stared at him in the doorway.

“You read minds now?” he asked humorously.

“Always could,” Simon quipped.

Really, he didn’t have time for pleasantries or conversation, even if it was with Johnny. Sure, it wouldn’t kill him, but the only thing that consumed his mind was getting back to you. You needed him and he knew that, even if you refused to admit it over the phone, and he didn’t want to waste any time.

“Can I talk to you about something?” Johnny then asked.

“Now’s not a good time,” Simon excused.

Confused at his lieutenant's quick response, a look of concern overwhelmed Johnny’s face. “Everything alright?” he questioned as he stepped to the side, giving Simon enough room to fully exit his office and shut the door behind him.

“Dunno,” he replied, “tryin’ to figure that out.”

“Is it Spook?”

Simon shouldn’t have been so surprised that the man was able to figure out what ailed him so quickly. After years of working with one another, they had grown close enough to know what made one another tick, and you were Simon’s reason for everything. For fighting, for coming home, for breaking a man’s arm. It wasn’t a secret anymore, but a well known fact Johnny could sniff out in an instance.

“She’s fine, I think,” Simon excused. “Just gotta bad feeling ‘bout somethin’ that I’d like to check out.”

Sallow. That was Johnny’s immediate thought. The bastard had been slithering around base with poisonous intent nearly unchecked for the last week, which was his whole reason for seeking out Simon in the first place. But if something was worrying him this much to the point where the man would leave work early, perhaps it was best he not add fuel to the already growing fire. He just hoped that he was wrong.

“Go take care of her,” Johnny said as he nodded down the hallway. “I’ll hold down the fort.”

“Good man,” Simon said blankly.

Johnny stayed standing in front of Simon’s office as he watched his hulking frame vanish past the corner. Whatever was going on, he knew it wasn’t good. Really, he wouldn’t be surprised if he heard about Sallow either resigning or being dishonorably discharged within the next hour, but whatever happened, he just hoped you were alright. But it was a foolish thing to worry about. He had seen what Simon was willing and able to go through if it meant ensuring your safety. Johnny knew he had nothing to worry about.

After your phone call with Simon, you weren’t able to sit still. Idle hands left you with a pang of panic in your chest, and instead of sitting on the couch to let it fester, you cleaned nearly every inch of the apartment. Despite the throbbing pain in your boob, dishes got washed, countertops were wiped down, and you nearly started a deep clean of the bathroom until you thought about the chemicals. Should you expose yourself to that stuff while you're pregnant? Certainly it wouldn’t be good for the baby. Would it even matter? Surely a few chemicals wouldn’t have hurt the baby if you decided to get an abortion anyway. Fuck, how terrible of a thought was that?

The only thing that was able to stop your restless hands was the sound of a key turning the lock at the front door. Leaving the myriad of cleaning supplies on the bathroom counter, you dashed out of the room and greeted Simon in the entryway before he even had time to shut and lock the door behind him. He didn’t do much to hide the confusion on his face as he removed his mask and stowed it in his pocket.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked as he approached you like a skittish cat.

Warmth flooded through you as his fingers grazed your arm, and you realized just how much you craved his touch and yearned to be held. Your body moved on its own accord and you wrapped your arms around your husband and buried your face into his chest. Your gesture was not at all unwelcome, yet seemed to only confuse him further. Still, his arms embraced you tightly and he kissed the top of your head with a deep breath.

“A little sore,” you finally replied.

“Makes sense,” he hummed.

Silence followed. Your secret began to decompose so quickly you were certain Simon would be able to sniff it out before your mouth would admit it. Maybe that was for the best. His arms were so warm and safe, and you were certain that if you tried to look him in the eyes to tell him the truth you’d turn into dust. But he could feel the hesitation weighing your body down, and a sob nearly escaped you when he squeezed you closer.

“What’s goin’ on?” he asked, voice soft but still rumbly in his chest.

All it took was that one question to get the waterworks started, and you felt an odd shame about how your tears soaked into the fabric of his shirt. Even after everything you had gone through, even after the basement, the orchard, everything, the scariest thing to you was still talking. It was sharing the darkest parts of you that you attempted to smother with as much kindness as you could muster, or keeping your grief chained so tightly that the only proof it existed was the rattling of its shackles.

But this secret was no such dark thing. This was supposed to be a joyous occasion where he’d sweep you off your feet into a kiss and you would giggle like you didn’t have a care in the world. At least, that’s what the movies would have you believe. So then why did you feel so scared?

“I’m pregnant.”

Your confession echoed throughout Simon’s body; you could feel it in the way the muscles in his back tensed and the movement of his chest ceased. His arms loosened around you so that he could get a better look at your tear stained face, and you almost broke when his eyes met yours. A storm of emotions swirled in his eyes so fiercely you were unable to tell exactly what he felt, but there wasn’t anger. There wasn’t anger, and you knew there never would be, and yet you still felt relieved.

“I don’t know why I didn’t realize it myself,” you said, voice trembling from the influx of conflicting emotions. “As soon as the doctor told me it made so much sense. Fat necrosis isn’t supposed to hurt but with the changes of hormones everything was sore and that’s why I’ve been so tired. I attributed my missed period to stress and, you know, I was on birth control so I never even would have imagined that… I’m- I’m sorry. I know that- I know we talked about how kids aren’t a good idea for us and I don’t want to ruin work for you and- and I’m rambling, Simon please shut me up.”

So he did. Your husband shut you up in the only way he knew how: smothering you with as much love as he could. His hands found your cheeks where he wiped your tears with his thumbs before he kissed the top of your head once more. You rested your hands over his to just hold him there, to feel him. It was so soft, and yet despite everything he still hadn’t spoken.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated as your fingers curled into his.

“Don’t be sorry,” he mumbled against your hairline.

“But I don’t want to ruin everything.”

“Sweetheart, look at me.”

Doing as he asked, you tilted your head to look at him as he pulled his lips away from your head. His eyes were still impossible to read, and his face refused to reveal any emotion, positive or otherwise. It was a little unfair of you to expect that he’d have a set reaction other than shock, though. This was quite literally life changing for the both of you, so Simon was bound to be left at least a little speechless. Still, it was so unlike him to be at a loss for words. To not have an answer.

“You’re not ruinin’ anything. We’re in this together, yeah? We’ll figure somethin’ out,” he said as he continued to cradle your face.

“I just- I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if we should keep it, or… or if…”

A cry rattled your body before you were able to finish your sentence, and Simon gently shushed you before he enveloped you in his arms again. Somehow the two of you ended up on the couch, which was something you were grateful for as you doubted you’d be able to stand upright any longer with the emotions rendering your mind virtually useless. Simon sat you in his lap where he cradled you in his arms, offering you comfort as you sobbed for what felt like an eternity.

Eventually, the thoughts in your mind waned from a suffocating storm to a dull buzz, and your body no longer shook with your sniffing. As if on cue, a tiny meow demanded your attention, and you felt a weight appear in your lap. A furry mess of black and white made its home in the comfort of your presence as Boo began to purr. Simon hummed as he reached to scratch behind the furrball’s ears, causing his purring to intensify while he attempted to rub his face against his fingers.

“He’s here to help,” Simon chuckled.

“He’s a prick,” you retorted, only half serious. “He’s known this whole time and didn’t tell me.”

As if to prove your point, Boo moved away from Simon’s hand in order to lovingly bash his head against your stomach. Giggling, you placed your hand on top of him as he nuzzled closer to you. Even with the little ray of sunshine in your lap, there was nothing that sweet cat could do that would completely rid you of that twisting feeling in your gut.

“How far along?” Simon then asked.

You shrugged. “Hard to tell from a urine test alone, but if I had to guess at least six weeks. Maybe more. I wasn’t exactly doing a great job at keeping track,” you chuckled. “But the doctor wants me back next week for an ultrasound. That’ll give us a better idea about our… well, options.”

Simon stayed silent but nodded in understanding at your explanation. As if he could feel your mind begin to wander, Boo cooed at you to grab your attention, and he stretched his arms up towards your chest as if demanding a hug. Once again you chuckled as you gave him a few pats, but it didn’t make swallowing the lump in your throat any easier.

“Do you want to keep it?” you asked.

Silence.

“I’d never make you do somethin’ you didn’t wanna do,” he replied.

It wasn’t a proper answer, and you wanted to grab him and shake him around, demand that he give you a yes or no. But maybe he didn’t even know the answer to your question. You just hated waiting around when you quite literally had something growing inside of you that demanded your attention. Something that demanded instant answers and decisions. But that wasn’t how things worked.

“We don’t have to decide anythin’ now,” Simon said as if he had read your mind. “We can wait until next week when we see your doctor. We’ll figure it out.”

Perhaps it was for the best that he left your question unanswered, because you weren’t sure you could bear to hear it, no matter what it was. No would mean he would put his work before truly starting a life with you. Sure, you didn’t think you were ready to be a mother, but no one could ever be truly ready for something like that. But yes? Yes would mean that he loved you enough to throw everything else away, and maybe that fact made you uneasy because you knew you didn’t deserve it.

But Simon was right. Nothing had to be decided right then and there. For the moment, you could just sit there in your husband’s lap and attempt to find an odd comfort in the fact that you had not gained your mother’s sickness.

In the days leading up to your appointment, Simon doted on you more than usual. At work he would find any excuse to visit your office, be it for paperwork or some other bullshit reason. His mask was as opaque as ever, but you always saw right through it. Worry clouded his eyes to the point you almost couldn't make out the earthy brown color, yet he refused to show it on the outside. You were certain someone was going to get suspicious about him visiting you so often, as no one besides his teammates even knew the two of you were married, but rumors never worried Simon.

At home he acted as if he had been surgically attached to your side. He always ensured you were fed and stayed on top of chores more than normal. In a way, it had gotten a little annoying because there was nothing for you to do around the apartment to distract yourself besides watch some terrible reality programme on the television. Not even your sweet and clueless cat would leave you alone, as he seemed hellbent on snuggling your stomach as much as possible.

During the night, when Simon thought you were asleep, you could feel his hands wander. As he laid curled behind you, his hand would sneak underneath your shirt not to grope you, but to feel you. His palm would rest flat against your stomach as if he could feel the life growing inside of you through your skin. He did this two times of which you could recall. The first night he did it was the day you had broken the news to him, and you had been so exhausted from crying you thought you had imagined it. The second time you were wide awake. You could sense the subtle yearning of his touch as he held your stomach and buried his face into the back of your neck, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he felt your pulse quicken.

On the day of the appointment, both you and Simon took the entire day off of work. Really, it didn’t make sense to miss a full day as the appointment would take no more than an hour, but you knew it was for the best. Your nerves were so fried that you couldn’t stop shaking when you tried to strip yourself of your clothes to shower that morning. Simon ended up having to help you, and you dragged him into the water with you, not wanting to be alone. Between the steamy water and the warmth of his hands, you were almost able to forget the pure fear that gripped your throat.

When you arrived at the clinic for your appointment, all the dread that you had attempted to keep at bay for the last week hit you all at once. From the droning atmosphere in the waiting room, to the dark and foreboding air in the ultrasound room, you swore you would faint. It was all so sterile. All you could think of was the scent of death you could never seem to get away from when you wandered the halls of the hospital when your mother was sick. You wanted to run away from all of it. Instead, you endured long enough to strip yourself half naked and lay on the bed with your stomach fully exposed so that the technician could glide the wand along your stomach.

Simon sat as close as humanly possible to you, and you were certain he would have tried to squeeze up there with you if he wasn’t a tall freak of nature. A dull grey hue shrouded his masked face in a cold shadow as his eyes focused on the ultrasound monitor on your right. You followed his gaze and you were met with nothing but a mess of fuzzy static as the technician searched through your body to find your uterus.

It was surreal when the image finally came into focus. Through the mess of static was a black void that the technician pointed out as being your womb, and floating amidst that darkness was what you could only describe as being a blip. A small little bean that was so tiny it hardly took up any space at all. It was odd to think that this small creature had caused you such emotional turmoil.

“There we are,” the technician smiled.

“It’s… so little,” you commented.

“It is,” she concurred before pressing a few buttons on the keyboard in front of her. “Just a little under two centimeters, to be exact.”

You stayed quiet as she glided the wand along your stomach again, and you tried not to make a face at the odd pressure and the sticky feeling of the gel. She clacked away at the buttons a few more times while humming to herself, completely relaxed, as you were certain this was a routine thing for her. It was difficult not to wiggle your feet or tap your hands on the bed underneath you as you thought to yourself. With an embryo that small, you were certain you could take a pill or two to abort it if that’s what you and Simon decided. It could all be over in a week and you could rest well knowing you hadn’t ruined your husband's career.

A quiet shame overwhelmed you for even thinking such a thing. You didn’t even know what you wanted, but thinking about getting rid of it made you feel worse than thinking about keeping it.

In an attempt to calm your mind, you tore your eyes away from the monitor and looked to Simon only to find his eyes glued to the screen. He sat as still as a statue, immovable and unwavering as he stared at that little glowing blip. He was… enamored. A quiet sound suddenly filled the room that you had confused for white noise at first until you could make out the clear, rapid yet steady rhythm of it. It was messy and warbly, but undeniably strong.

“And… there’s the heartbeat,” the technician confirmed.

Even in the darkness of the room you could clearly make out the way Simon’s eyes dilated. He soaked up every single image, every sound that took place inside of you with a sort of wonder you had only ever seen from him when he looked at you. No, he wasn’t just awestruck, he was in love. With you. With this child. And the only thing that was able to get him to look away from the screen was your longing touch as you tugged at the sleeve of his jumper. That wide eyed expression stuck with him as he automatically grabbed your hand in response, and you didn’t miss the way his mouth twitched underneath his mask.

“That’s our baby,” you whispered.

Our baby. Those words clung to Simon’s chest and made his heart jump. He quickly glanced at the monitor again before looking back at you with a gentle squeeze of your hand. Even with his mask you could see the faint crinkle of the corner of his eyes in what you knew was a loving smile. That was the moment you had finally gotten the answer to your question.

After everything that had happened to you, Simon had promised himself he would never carry around another picture, but he couldn’t get rid of the copy of the little blip the technician had given him at the end of your appointment. It was still impossible for him to fully comprehend just how small it was. It was hardly the size of his fingernails. None of it seemed real, and yet there he was, sitting on the edge of his desk in his office as he stared down at that picture.

All was well. Your biopsy had come back clear, there were no abnormalities with the baby; he was going to be a father. That was something he had never imagined himself being. Even when he was younger he was fully content on just being an uncle. Settling down wasn’t supposed to be for him. That life was meant for people better than him, with something waiting for them other than gore and violence. Perhaps he had grown soft.

A rushed and demanding knock rattled the door to Simon’s office and his eyes shot up to stare at the pale wood. He took the photo in his hands and laid it face down on his desk before he shifted his weight, wood creaking and groaning underneath him.

“Come in.”

The door swung open with such force it nearly tore off its hinges just to slam shut with a thunderous bang. Simon continued to sit on the edge of his desk unbothered as Johnny looked at him with wild blue eyes and a slightly reddened face. Judging by the way he could nearly hear the man’s teeth grind, he wasn’t impressed about something.

“You’re quitting?” he demanded.

“It’s called retiring, Johnny,” Simon corrected in a dry attempt at humor.

“But you’re leaving?”

“Not for another year at least,” Simon confirmed.

Instead of standing there to stare right at him, Johnny began to pace as if keeping still would be the death of him. “But why?”

“I’m gettin’ old,” Simon shrugged.

“Bullshit,” Johnny spat.

An uneasy silence stretched between the two men as Johnny waited for his answer and Simon contemplated if he should tell the truth or not. He never thought he would get as close to Johnny as he had. Hell, he had read him like an open book years ago when the two of you first started seeing one another. But there was something odd happening. There was a terribly strong rage that bubbled inside of his sergeant, and it didn’t take long for him to get answers as to why the man was so upset.

“Is it because of Sallow?” he asked.

Simon’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“The bastard’s been trying to make it seem like you’re pining after a married woman. Spook, your own damn wife. Almost seems like he’s trying to get you discharged based on infidelity charges,” Johnny explained.

That fact was so bizarre Simon nearly chuckled at the mere thought of it. He had known that the Trooper had some screws loose, but he didn’t expect him to truly act on it while he was staying on base. Let alone mess with you. Surely it was an issue, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about some FNG.

“Sallow’s got nothin’ to do with this,” Simon replied.

“Yeah?” Johnny challenged.

“That cunt couldn’t get me fired no matter how hard he tried. And certainly not for loving my fuckin’ wife.”

“Then why? Why did Price just tell me that you’re leaving?” Johnny asked. His tone was firm, but his eyes looked defeated. Like it would have been easier to know Simon was leaving because of something out of his control, and not something he would willingly do himself. “What’s going on?”

Simon’s fingers absentmindedly reached for the photo next to him before his mind had fully decided that’s what he wanted to do. And maybe it was a bad idea sharing the news so early. There were so many things that could go wrong, and maybe he had even acted irrationally by leaving the force as soon as he got the news, but it just felt right. He needed to do it. He needed to be vulnerable to the man who had helped save your life and care for you while he was locked away. He needed to learn that it was okay to stop fighting.

He carefully slid the photo off of his desk and flipped it over to give it a good glance before he held it out for Johnny. The man snatched it from his fingers and looked at it as if he expected a report or some sort of ransom note, but every muscle in his body froze the moment he made sense of the mess of black and white. All the pieces suddenly fit together in Johnny’s mind, and he couldn’t help but glance back and forth between Simon and the picture.

“Holy shit,” he breathed.

“Yeah,” Simon agreed.

“How far along?” Johnny asked. He gripped the photo with two hands as the fragility of the situation fully hit him.

“About nine weeks.”

His eyes finally settled to just look at Simon and Simon alone as he held the photo out for him to take back. “Congrats, mate.”

Simon hummed. “Just don’t go yappin’ about it. You’re the only one who knows.”

The photo was returned to the desk where it laid face up that time. It was almost as if Simon couldn’t take his eyes off of it. That if he did he would wake up and realize it was all just a dream.

“That’s… that’s gotta be a big change,” Johnny said. Whatever anger that had bubbled inside of him previously had dissipated at the truth and instead was placed with a shocked sort of awe.

“It’s fuckin’ terrifying,” Simon admitted.

A sympathetic smile crossed Johnny’s face at his vulnerability. “You’re gonna be a good dad, Simon.”

He chuckled something gruff and sour.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he sighed.

Whether he would be a good dad or not would remain to be seen. All his life he had only ever known fighting and fear; it was in his nature by that point to be nothing but a vile creature. Dead men weren’t supposed to have families and settle down, but you came along and muddled all of that up. You gave him something to fight for, to protect, to love; you gave him not only yourself but a child, too. He didn’t think he would be a good dad, but he knew he would be better than what he had, what you had, and that was more than enough for him.

hi (: just dropping by to say yes there is more soft spot, but i just wanted to point out the change in my taglist! okay ily bye

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #soft spot #f!reader

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naomeii · 6 months

Text

not... Heather.

—Pairings: Xiao x Lumine x Ex! Reader

Content : Angst to comfort(depends on how you see it), unrequited feelings (lumine's).

Synopsis : the bittersweet reality of being the one who was there but never truly the one he yearned for.

based on : Heather's Pov.

"Xiao… I don't think we could work out anymore. It's just too much for me to handle. You can't just push me away anytime you want and then come back to me? It hurts so much…" Y/n's words echoed in Xiao's mind, haunting him like a painful melody. That day, Xiao was consumed by the weight of his karmic debts, and it manifested as irritation. He never intended to hurt the one he loved so dearly, but that particular day proved to be exceptionally challenging for him.

For the first time, Xiao's usually composed demeanour crumbled, and he raised his voice at her, his words laced with a bitterness that surprised even himself. "Well, if you can't handle that, then we shouldn't be together. You should've known better than to be with me then." His words, though spoken in frustration, carried a venom that stung both of them.

Despite Xiao's difficulty in understanding human emotions, he was willing to learn for the sake of his beloved. Never before had his cold heart felt warmth, except when Y/n was near. However, that day was an exception. As he witnessed Y/n's reaction—her scoff, the tears teetering on the edge of her precious eyes—he realized the gravity of his actions. He failed to grasp how Y/n silently pleaded for him to stop her, to embrace her, and assure her that everything would be alright. But Xiao, in his misguided belief that she deserved better, let her go.

In that moment, as Y/n walked away, Xiao missed the chance to bridge the growing chasm between them. He failed to seize the opportunity to express the depth of his feelings and offer solace. Little did he know that Y/n, though hurt and emotionally torn, had lingered for a fleeting moment, silently yearning for him to halt her departure and provide the comfort she desperately sought..

As Xiao reminisced about that fateful day, the weight of his actions lingered in the air. The memory of Y/n's hurtful words echoed in his mind, and the realization of his own inability to handle emotions gnawed at him. He had pushed away the one person who made his cold heart warm, and the regret settled like a heavy storm cloud.

The months that followed were filled with a profound sense of emptiness. Xiao couldn't shake off the guilt and the haunting image of Y/n leaving with tears in her eyes. His understanding of emotions was limited, but he knew he had hurt her deeply.

In the midst of Xiao's internal turmoil, Lumine and her annoying companion, Paimon unexpectedly entered his life. Lumine, the gentle and kind-hearted Traveler, appeared before him with an unexpected confession. Desperate to move on from the pain of his past, Xiao hesitated but ultimately agreed. The news of their union quickly spread throughout Liyue, painting a picture of the Famous Traveler and the Vigilant Yaksha as a couple.

Meanwhile, Y/n, upon hearing about Xiao and Lumine, couldn't deny the twinge of jealousy that gripped her heart. The realization of Xiao moving on so quickly stung, yet she couldn't blame him.

"Sure, I've got his sweater, but you should know better, He holds my hands, thinking of you forever."

"Oh, your hands are almost my size," Xiao chuckled emptily, his mind involuntarily drifting to memories of Y/n. "Y/n's hands were much smaller."

Lumine, sensing a sudden shift in Xiao's demeanor, asked with genuine curiosity, "Who's Y/n?" She couldn't help but notice the fleeting horror that crossed Xiao's face.

In that moment, Xiao hesitated, his internal struggle evident. After a brief pause, he redirected the conversation, deflecting Lumine's question with a forced nonchalance. "Oh, my apologies," he said, veiling the pain behind his eyes. The untold story lingered in the air, leaving Lumine with a sense of unspoken sorrow that Xiao carried within him.

"cause u were his first, now you're jealous of the 3rd of December, screaming 'wish I were heather'"

Xiao took Lumine to the Lantern Rites Festival, a vibrant celebration of lights and colors. Coincidentally, Y/n was also there with her friends, immersed in the festive atmosphere. As fate would have it, Lumine and Y/n's paths crossed, resulting in an accidental bump. Y/n's expression shifted momentarily, revealing a hint of jealousy that didn't go unnoticed by Lumine.

Xiao, too, caught sight of Y/n in the crowd. His normally impassive features softened at the sight of her, memories flooding back. As he opened his mouth to address Y/n, she quickly excused herself, muttering apologies, and disappeared into the lively sea of festival-goers.

Lumine, ever perceptive, observed the subtle changes in Xiao's demeanor. She didn't miss the way his gaze lingered in the direction Y/n had vanished. It was a silent acknowledgment of the complex emotions that still lingered between Xiao and Y/n, the unspoken connection that Lumine could sense in the air. The Lantern Rites Festival, meant to be a joyous occasion, became bittersweet.

"you walk by, he stares with such heart eyes, wish he'd stare into my eyes"

Throughout the Lantern Rites Festival, Lumine couldn't shake off the unsettling feeling in her chest. Xiao's gaze, usually stoic and distant, carried a softness she had never seen before. Lumine couldn't help but notice the contrast between the way Xiao looked at her and the way he had looked at Y/n.

As the festival unfolded with its vibrant lights and joyful celebrations, Lumine couldn't escape the wish that lingered in her heart. She yearned for Xiao to cast his gaze upon her with the same tenderness and longing he had shown for Y/n, even if just for a fleeting moment. The unspoken desire for that connection, for Xiao to look at her with an emotion that transcended his usual reserve, weighed on Lumine's mind, creating a subtle undercurrent of melancholy beneath the festive atmosphere.

"I'm just a rebound in his life, gosh I've tried"

Lumine decided to surprise Xiao by preparing his favorite dish, Almond Tofu. With genuine enthusiasm, she presented the dish to him, hoping to bring a smile to his usually reserved face. "Mmh, it's good, but it's too sweet for my liking. You should ask Y/n how to ma—"

Xiao's words hung in the air, cutting through Lumine like a knife. She felt a pang of hurt as the sentence remained unfinished. The unintentional comparison stung, and Xiao's abrupt halt left Lumine with a mix of confusion and disappointment. Sensing the discomfort, Xiao awkwardly excused himself, leaving Lumine alone with her thoughts.

As she stared at the half-finished plate of Almond Tofu, Lumine grappled with the realization that, despite her efforts, there were lingering shadows from Xiao's past that continued to affect their interactions. The sweetness of the dish turned bitter in her mouth, mirroring the bitter taste of the unspoken emotions that hung in the air between them.

"Why are you jealous of me? You're talented, smart, and funny,"

While Xiao was away, Lumine decided to explore Liyue and stumbled upon the place where Y/n worked. As she approached, she witnessed a heartwarming scene – Y/n, surrounded by playful children of Liyue, her beauty accentuated by the genuine joy on her face. The infectious laughter echoed in the air, and Lumine couldn't help but understand why Xiao's cold heart melted in Y/n's presence.

Caught in the moment, Y/n noticed Lumine's presence. The warmth in her smile faltered, and an awkward silence settled between them. Y/n, unsure of Lumine's intentions, offered a tentative wave before excusing herself and moving inside.

As Lumine observed Y/n's interactions with the children, a mix of admiration and wistfulness filled her. The genuine connection Y/n shared with the kids and the way she effortlessly radiated warmth. Lumine couldn't deny the pang of realization that Xiao's heart belonged to someone who brought not only warmth to him but also to those around her.

"He loves you better, writing love letters, For you, not for Heather,"

In the evening, Lumine made her way to Wangshu Inn, ascending to the roof where Xiao often found solace. There, she found Xiao engrossed in watching a clip, seemingly of glaze lilies. Lumine connected the dots, remembering the similar pair adorning Y/n's hair earlier in the day.

Approaching Xiao with a heavy heart, Lumine took a deep breath before urging him to be honest about what his heart truly desired. Xiao, surprisingly sincere, met her gaze and offered a heartfelt apology. He admitted that his heart belonged to someone from the past – Y/n. Lumine, though hurt, understood the gravity of his confession.

With a resigned acceptance, Lumine acknowledged that she needed to let him go. Xiao's sincerity in acknowledging his feelings for Y/n made the decision clear. As Lumine stepped away from the roof of Wangshu Inn, she carried the weight of unspoken emotions and the bittersweet realization that sometimes, even with the best intentions, hearts yearn for connections that transcend the present.

"because I'm not his forever."

The next day, Lumine made the difficult decision to leave Liyue and continue her travels. With a heavy heart, she walked through the streets, grappling with the ache of unrequited feelings. As she passed by a familiar place, fate dealt another painful blow.

In a moment frozen in time, Lumine caught a glimpse of Xiao and Y/n in a warm embrace. The two lovers, finally reunited, shared a connection that Lumine had yearned for. The sight, though beautiful, shattered Lumine's heart into even smaller fragments. She felt the weight of her unspoken emotions as she silently observed the happiness that had eluded her.

With a deep sigh, Lumine continued on her journey, leaving behind the bittersweet love that wasn't meant for her. The road ahead seemed longer, and the pain of unrequited love lingered, but Lumine knew that her travels held new adventures and the possibility of healing a heart wounded by the twists of fate.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin oneshots #genshin fluff #genshin angst #genshin headcanons #genshin xiao #xiao x reader #xiao imagines #xiao oneshots #xiao headcanons #xiao fluff #xiao angst #reader insert #genshin impact angst #angst to comfort #lumine #genshin impact x reader

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darkshelbyfiction · 6 months

Text

The Nanny Diaries (Part Three)

Pairing: Dark Cillian Murphy x Innocent Reader

Warning: Dubious Consent, Smut

Inside the bathroom, you quickly cleaned your hands, trying desperately not to let anything show. Turning to Cillian, who had regained some composure, you prepared to leave the room quickly without being seen and, luckily for you, Lorna hadn't ventured farther upstairs by this point.

"I will come and see you in your room after my wife goes to sleep," Cillian proposed softly, sealing his lips over yours for a brief second before pressing his forehead against yours before he ushered you out of the bathroom discretely.

As you made your way back to your room, fear began to creep in once again. This whole encounter with Cillian was far beyond anything you thought possible for someone like you - fresh faced and virtuous.

Something like this was not supposed to happen. It wasn't fair that such dark desires existed deep within you, and they were now manifesting themselves in ways that would forever change the course of your life and, yet, you wanted more.

More of these intense encounters that stirred something primitive within you, despite the consequences that came along with them. The very idea scared you, and yet the allure persisted strongly enough to push away any reservations. It appeared as though you had entered a world where sexuality and sin intertwined, tearing apart your moral fabric piece by piece.

After dinner, you retreated to your room exhausted from today's events. Curling up underneath the covers, sleep eluded you as the evening wore on.

Disturbing thoughts ran rampant throughout your restless mind, tormenting you with images of Cillian and the deviant acts you partook in earlier. Closing your eyes, you tried in vain to silence those unwelcome visions. But instead, they only intensified. Each image brought about feelings of shame and desire that confused and terrified you until, at around midnight, your bedroom door opened quietly.

Stepping inside, Cillian closed the door behind him wordlessly, his presence alone speaking volumes.

His entrance caused your blood to race wildly through your veins, leaving your heart pounding in your chest. Unable to meet his gaze directly, you lowered your eyes in modesty. Naked save for a sheet covering your lower half, you sat awkwardly on the edge of your bed, still struggling to reconcile the conflicting emotions surging through you.

Seeing your nervous demeanor, Cillian took a seat beside you, carefully positioning himself closer.

Inhaling deeply, he leaned forward, nuzzling your neck softly while whispering endearments into your ear. "There's no need to be afraid," he assured you tenderly, running gentle fingers through your locks.

"We shouldn't be doing this..." you argued weakly, finding yourself unable to deny his advances even in light of your own doubts.

The smell of his cologne mixed with the faint traces of soap lingering on his skin enveloped you in an enticing aroma, drawing you deeper into the web of seduction he weaved around you.

"Don't worry," he reassured you gently, brushing a kiss against your cheekbone. "This doesn't make you a bad person." His words offered comfort, offering relief amidst the turmoil of your thoughts.

Unbidden tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to betray the fragile peace you were attempting to maintain. Swallowing hard, you fought back the urge to break down as his arms wrapped protectively around you.

"It's okay to feel this way," he whispered softly, rubbing circles on your back in a calming motion. "Guilt is normal but so is what you want, which is clearly something your boyfriend is not going to give you," he continued, slowly pulling you towards him.

Your resistance wavered momentarily as you allowed yourself to be consumed by his embrace. Burying your head into his shoulder, you mumbled a feeble apology for giving in. However, Cillian simply held you tighter, kissing the top of your head affectionately.

"Come on, lie down for me. I will make you feel better," suggested Cillian softly, guiding you onto the plush mattress beneath you. Reluctantly, you complied, allowing him to remove the thin cotton sheet that concealed your bare legs.

Exposing you fully, Cillian hoovered over you, trailing a finger across your thigh suggestively. With every stroke, goosebumps formed on your skin, a testament to your growing unease.

"Relax," he whispered softly, reaching up to brush strands of hair aside that fell over your face. As he did so, his fingertips grazed your exposed neck, causing shivers to run through your entire frame. "Just allow yourself to enjoy it," Cillian cooed, placing featherlight kisses along your jawline before, finally, kissing your lips softly. This action unleashed a whirlwind of emotions within you, bringing forth a mixture of guilt, desire, and helplessness as you wrestled with the notion of succumbing to temptation.

"Take a deep breath," Cillian encouraged gently, sensing your distress. As he pressed a slow, tantalising kiss upon your neck, you found yourself responding instinctually. Desire coursed through your body, leaving you achingly aware of how close he was to you.

He traced his tongue delicately along your throbbing pulse point, sending shards of passion piercing through your core. Breaking the spell briefly, he raised his head to look into your eyes.

"Cillian," you murmured hesitantly, searching for understanding within his eyes. "I don't know if this is right…" Your voice trailed off uncertainly. "My boyfriend will not forgive me for cheating on him," you admitted cautiously, a hint of anxiety laced in your tone.

"Trust me," he replied resolutely, cupping your face in his palms tenderly. "Nothing will happen. He will never find out," promised Cillian, stroking your hair lovingly. "Everything here stays between us," he added assuringly, running his hand down your side until reaching your hip.

"Now, be a good girl and spread your legs for me," he requested smoothly, his voice filled with confidence. In response, you obeyed hesitantly, feeling a mix of dread and anticipation swirling within you. Slowly, Cillian moved closer, his cool hands skimming over your flesh, igniting sparks everywhere they touched. Every touch heightened your excitement levels, making it difficult to think clearly.

Running his fingers over your inner thigh, Cillian's movements grew bolder, igniting an inferno within you. Your breath hitched when he caressed your secret places, the heat radiating from his palm scorching your sensitive skin before, suddenly, he pushed two of his digits past your folds. You cried out involuntarily, startled by the new sensation filling you.

"Ssshhh, such a good girl," he admonished gently, moving his fingers rhythmically to match the tempo of your increasing breaths. Your body quivered under his ministrations, surrendering itself completely to the wave of pleasure washing over you.

With each passing minute, you became more and more lost in the depths of ecstasy that engulfed you.

Emboldened by your responsiveness, Cillian increased the intensity of his stimulation, knowing full well the extent of his influence over you.

"Your pussy is so wet for me already," he observed astutely, his thumb circling your clitoris expertly. Your moans echoed around the bedroom, resonating through the walls. Your entire body felt as though it was on fire, yearning for release.

"So small and tight... you really are a virgin," he mused aloud, amused by your lack of experience.

Despite your initial reluctance, the sensual atmosphere seemed to take hold of you, awakening newfound passions within. Overwhelmed by the sudden influx of arousal, your mind drifted away from reality, becoming fixated solely on the physical sensations assaulting your body.

"Fuck, I really want to put my cock inside you," he confided huskily, his breath hot against your ear, causing you to panic. "Would you let me do this to you?" he insisted gently, stroking your hair away from your face.

"Please," he implored persuasively, captivating you with his mesmerizing stare. "Just for a little bit," he continued.

"But it's wrong!" you protested weakly, battling with your conscience as you thought about your boyfriend and Lorna.

"Not if we just do it once," he claimed seductively, nibbling playfully on your neck. "I will just put it in for a little bit and if it hurts too much, I will pull it back out," he reassured you.

As his warm breath caressed your neck, a sense of longing overcame you. Torn between loyalty and lust, you struggled internally to decide whether to submit to his desires or stand firm in your convictions.

"Do you think that it will hurt a lot?" you asked timidly, breaking eye contact for fear of losing sight of reason.

"No, not a lot. It will only hurt a little bit when I first put it in," Cillian reassured you calmly, his fingers continuing to trace patterns over your skin. "And I promise you that I will be careful."

Avoiding eye contact, you nodded apprehensively, torn between curiosity and fear. "Okay, but just for a little bit," you agreed resignedly, a heavy weight settling on your shoulders.

Feeling emboldened by your consent, Cillian pulled your legs apart wider to grant easier access before pulling down his boxer shorts and exposing his rigid erection. Stroking your inner thigh with the tip of his manhood, he watched intently as your pupils dilated further at the sight of him.

"I need you to relax now," he commanded authoritatively, his voice carrying a note of determination. Gulping nervously, you complied, trying to still your trembling limbs.

His eyes bore into yours, conveying a level of control that made you question your decision. Nerves threatened to consume you, yet you reminded yourself that there would be no permanent damage done – this encounter would remain secret forever.

As he positioned himself in between your spread legs, his intent gaze captured yours, searing straight through your soul.

"Try not to make too much noise when my cock goes in. The door doesn't lock completely, and we don't want Lorna to walk in on us," warned Cillian, punctuating his statement with a slight tap of his index finger against your chin. Fearful of the consequences, you nodded fervently, promising silence.

"Okay. I will try to be quiet," you agreed nervously, your heart racing rapidly in your chest. Closing your eyes, you took several deep breaths, attempting to steady your erratic pulse.

"Good girl. That's it, just breathe in and out deeply," he instructed gently, holding your chin while maintaining eye contact. His touch sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, amplifying your trepidation.

Nervously, you followed his advice, focusing all your energy on controlling your breath. Meanwhile, Cillian prepared himself meticulously by stroking his cock and aligning it with your virgin hole.

"I will fuck you bare, alright? It will feel better that way," Cillian announced with a hint of authority, causing your breath to catch in your throat.

"I am not on the pill though," you revealed hesitantly, glancing away momentarily due to embarrassment.

"Don't worry. I won't cum inside you. I will pull out," Cillian said, drawing circles on your stomach.

"Okay..." you mumbled nervously, your mouth dry despite your attempts to stay composed.

Lifting his hips slightly, he aligned his erect member perfectly with your entrance, teasing you with the exquisite pressure building beneath you. His fingers left your skin as he grasped his length determinedly, his expression intense with purpose.

The room seemed to spin wildly around you as you lay flat on your back, your whole world reduced to the man looming over you, poised to enter you.

"Good girl, now hold still for me," Cillian demanded sternly as he began to push inward, causing you tense up.

"Relax and allow my cock to stretch you slowly," he soothed softly, rubbing gentle circles across your lower abdomen. "It might hurt a little at first, but after a minute or two it will be fine."

Trembling, you forced yourself to relax, allowing him entry as, slowly but surely, he broke your hymen with his penetration. As pain shot through your body, tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over. But, fighting them back valiantly, you held onto the hem of the duvet sheet covering the bed, digging your fingers into it to distract yourself from the discomfort.

"Ssshh, it's okay. Let it go, I am half-way in," whispered Cillian soothingly, placing his other hand lightly on top of yours, which were squeezing the sheet tightly. Gradually, you released your grip, succumbing to the pain, which quickly gave way to a strange, unfamiliar feeling - the invasion of something foreign yet tantalising, pushing deeper and deeper into your body.

"Is it supposed to feel like this?" you managed to ask haltingly, finding it hard to concentrate amidst the haze of pleasure and pain-induced confusion. "This feels different, strange almost…", you trailed off uncertainly, your brow furrowing with uncertainty.

"It does," admitted Cillian, his tone somewhat detached from the subject matter as he looked down to where his cock was buried within you, his expression enigmatic.

He rocked his hips subtly, letting you adjust to the size and angle of his organ. You winced again as another rush of pain hit you, prompting a sharp gasp from your lips as a small amount of blood trickled out from between your parted labia.

The sight of the crimson liquid elicited a visceral reaction from Cillian, whose eyes flared with hunger whereas your eyes filled with concern.

"Don't worry. It's normal, sweetheart," he murmured reassuringly, pulling out momentarily to wipe away the traces of blood with a tissue.

Your cheeks flushed bright red as you tried to mask your shame behind a facade of nonchalance. "Maybe we should stop," you suggested cautiously, the words coming out as a faint whisper.

"Just a little longer, please. Trust me," pleaded Cillian earnestly, his hands resting tenderly on your hips. "You will get used to having my cock inside you. I promise," he reassured.

"Okay," you conceded finally, closing your eyes and bracing yourself mentally as he lined himself up with your sore opening. With both hands placed gently on either side of your waist, he pushed forward once more, causing a wave of pain to course through your body.

"Almost there, just bear with it," encouraged Cillian, his rhythmic thrusts making it increasingly difficult for you to focus on anything else besides the burning sensation.

"You are opening up for me now. I can feel it," noted Cillian approvingly, a smirk playing on his lips as he picked up the pace of his thrusts.

Swept along by the rhythm of Cillian's movements, your walls gradually yielded to his relentless advance, creating an entirely new sensation.

"There! That's it," exclaimed Cillian triumphantly, pausing briefly to savor the milestone achieved together.

"Are you okay?" he asked, reaching out to cradle your head.

"Yes... it hurts less now," you replied honestly, marveling at how quickly time had passed since your initial resistance.

"Great, then turn around. I will take you from behind," requested Cillian huskily, turning you onto your knees and leaning you over the edge of the large bed. Your body felt alien underneath him, unaccustomed to such treatment, your mind racing wildly, unsure what was expected of you. But your instincts kicked in, guiding you effortlessly into the desired pose without protest, your back arched gracefully.

As you knelt facing the foot of the bed, Cillian mounted behind you, his arms encircling your waist possessively.

Positioning his thick shaft at your wet entrance, he eased himself inside you tentatively, ensuring you were ready for the fullness of his rod. The sudden invasion caused you to jerk involuntarily, causing him to pause and let out a low groan, his frame straining with desire.

"This looks so good. Sweet and tight. Just perfect," complimented Cillian huskily, tracing his thumb leisurely along your exposed shoulder blade. Embarrassed by his comment, you blushed profusely, struggling to hide your feelings of self-consciousness.

Undeterred, Cillian continued his assault, alternating between shallow thrusts and deep plunges, causing you to squirm deliciously in response. Each stroke sent shockwaves throughout your entire body, leaving you utterly spellbound.

"Your pussy is so red and swollen around my cock, it makes me crazy!" growled Cillian huskily, his voice resonating through your body like a dark caress. Unnerved by his graphic description, you struggled to find your own voice in reply.

"It feels so weird now. So deep. It's so strange," you confided candidly, clutching the sheets beneath you as his pace quickened with abandon. The intensity of his force made your muscles quiver with delight, heightening your awareness of every nerve ending alive and vibrant.

His heavy breaths reverberated around you, echoing off the walls like a mantra of arousal. Unable to contain himself any longer, Cillian grabbed you roughly by the shoulders, pushing you further onto the bed until you were lying flat on your belly.

Spreading your legs wide apart, he positioned himself directly above you, hovering ominously close. Bending forward, he kissed your neck softly before nipping playfully at your flesh, sending thrilling sensations through your core.

"Fuck I really want to fill your sore little hole with my cum," confessed Cillian hoarsely, grazing his teeth against your earlobe. Shivering with anticipation, you felt a surge of excitement rise within you, urging you closer towards climax.

Writhing underneath him, you twisted your hips suggestively, inviting his cock to slide in and out. Every smooth glide intensified the fire growing within you, your inner walls pulsing rhythmically around his thick rod.

Picking up the tempo, Cillian took control of your rhythm, driving your bodies closer to ecstasy.

"Please let me cum inside you tonight," begged Cillian, his voice ragged with need. Gripped by the urgency of his request, you nodded silently, signaling acquiescence.

Satisfied, he increased the speed and depth of his thrusts, pressing ever closer to release.

"Oh God, oh fuck yes, you're amazing," he groaned passionately, unable to suppress his fervor.

Every powerful surge triggered tremors through your body, igniting a fierce desire for completion.

"Y/N, cum for me," ordered Cillian harshly, punctuating his words with deep, deliberate thrusts. Overwhelmed by the intensity of his demand, you surrendered to the all-consuming tide of emotion.

Reaching orgasm simultaneously, both of you cried out loudly, the explosive eruption of pleasure searing through your veins, transforming you irrevocably.

"Fuck, yes," screamed Cillian, burying his face in your sweaty hair. His hot seed burst forth from his throbbing member, painting your insides with his semen, claiming you wholly as his conquest. Pumping his last drops into you, he pulled out and glanced at your swollen lips, still throbbing in post-orgasmic bliss, oozing his seed stained with streaks of blood. His fingers dipped briefly into the stickiness of his spent seed before withdrawing, wiping them clean on the sheets beside you. His gaze locked with yours, penetrating right through you. "We're going to do this again soon."

A sense of dread settled over you at his chilling prediction. How could you possibly continue when things had already gone too far? Closing your eyes to shut out the truth, you shook your head slightly to dismiss his statement. "No. We shouldn't," you responded weakly, unwilling to accept reality.

"I think we should," argued Cillian persuasively, his hand gently stroking your cheek. "If you don't want to, that's fine. But remember, I am here if you change your mind later," Cillian told you before standing up.

Stretching languidly, he walked toward the bathroom adjacent to your room, giving you a chance to process everything that happened. You lay there motionless on the bed, numb to the world outside of this room.

When Cillian returned from the bathroom, he sat down next to you on the bed, observing your silence.

"So, what do you think?" he ventured carefully, trying to gauge your mood.

"I think that what we did was very wrong," you admitted quietly, lowering your gaze.

"That may be true, but you enjoyed it," countered Cillian defiantly, attempting to break through your fragile defense mechanisms.

"I did enjoy it, which makes it even worse because I know it wasn't right," you answered solemnly, feeling conflicted about your newly discovered desires.

Cillian looked at you sympathetically, understanding where you were coming from. "Look, Y/N, everyone enjoys doing things that aren't necessarily morally correct sometimes and, like I said, it doesn't make you a bad person," he explained patiently.

He reached over and cupped your cheek, forcing you to meet his intense gaze.

"It's just sex, nothing more," he whispered firmly, seeking to convince both of you while trailing his fingers over your naked skin.

"It was my first time, and I should have done it with my boyfriend back home," you murmured apologetically, looking away shamefully. Cillian paused momentarily, contemplating your words. "But you also wanted this," he reminded you gently, brushing aside the notion of guilt.

Unable to deny the temptation any longer, you found yourself nodding in agreement. "Yes, I did," you divulged hesitantly understanding fully well the consequences before telling Cillian that he should probably go back to bed before Danielle was coming to look for him.

"Before I go, can I have another glance at your pussy," he asked smirkingly. This caught you off guard and filled you with confusion. On one hand, you didn't wish to engage in anything else sexual that night but at the same time, you couldn't help admitting that part of you longed for the touch of Cillian once more.

"I guess..." you muttered uncertainly, allowing him to guide you towards the center of the bed. Once there, he removed the blanket from you, beneath which you lay naked.

"Spread your legs," commanded Cillian authoritatively, watching intently as you obeyed and, as soon as you opened your legs, Cillian saw some blood streaked cum oozing from your tender slit.

"God that looks hot", he grunted approvingly, running his tongue slowly across his bottom lip, his eyes feasting on the sight before him before he placed two fingers onto folds in order to make your once virgin hole gape.

"Can you push some cum out of your hole for me? asked Cillian provocatively, leaning over you for better view. His tone carried an air of authority mixed with sheer possessiveness, making you feel small and helpless yet strangely excited.

Without questioning him, you obliged, closing your eyes and tensing your muscles, gathering all your strength to exert pressure from below.

As you pushed, a trickle of fluid emerged from your slippery passageway.

Cillian watched, mesmerized by the show, capturing the essence of submission in your eyes. Seeing this display of obedience fueled his ego, reinforcing his belief that he held complete control over you. "Good girl," he praised you, his voice dripping with satisfaction before giving you a kiss goodnight.

#cillian murphy #cilliean murphy smut #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine #cillian x reader #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n

326 notes · View notes

xxspringmelodyxx · 5 days

Text

That Girl’s A Liar~

Satoru Gojo x F!Reader

Here is part II my lovelies! Thank you all for the support and I hope you enjoy! <333 | Part I |

"One of these days, you’re going to get yourself really hurt, Toru! You need to be more careful," I scolded the white-haired boy. I wrapped the bandage around his upper arm, trying to focus on the task at hand rather than getting distracted by his shirtless body.

Earlier that day, Satoru and Suguru had been dispatched to exorcize a particularly nasty cursed spirit that had been terrorizing a nearby town. The mission was supposed to be straightforward, but things quickly took a turn for the worse. The cursed spirit, more powerful than initially anticipated, had launched a ferocious attack. In the ensuing battle, Satoru had been injured, his arm nearly severed by a brutal strike. Despite the pain, he managed to defeat the curse with Suguru's help, but not without sustaining significant injuries.

Back at the school, I waited anxiously for their return. When I saw Satoru limping back with Suguru supporting him, my heart sank. Shoko immediately took Suguru to another room to tend to his injuries, leaving me to care for Satoru.

“Relax, Y/N. Tis but a scratch. It’ll take a lot more than that to truly hurt me!” he said with a cocky smile, his confidence radiating as usual. I looked at him with a deadpan expression, unimpressed by his bravado.

“This is not just a scratch, you idiot! Your arm was almost cut off from that curse!” I retorted, my voice filled with frustration and worry.

“Still, nothing can stop me. I’m literally the strongest sorcerer here in our high school. Probably of all time, too,” he boasted, clearly not grasping the gravity of the situation.

“Toru, for the last time, I don’t care if you are the strongest sorcerer in the world! You are still a human being, not some indestructible weapon! You could still... never mind,” I started, trailing off as my mind filled with the horrifying image of him getting severely hurt, even to the point of death.

Toru’s smirk quickly disappeared as he noticed the bright blue skies outside the window getting covered by dark clouds. He looked at me with genuine concern, fully aware that the sudden weather change was my doing, a manifestation of my emotional turmoil. I was losing control of my cursed technique.

“Hey…” he said, his voice softening. He placed his uninjured hand on my arm, snapping me out of my dark thoughts.

“I’m going to be okay, Y/N. You know that, right? I’m gonna be here for a long, long time,” he said, trying to reassure me. His attempt to comfort me only made my brows furrow deeper.

“That’s the thing, Toru. You don’t know that. And if you keep acting like nothing can stop or hurt you, you are going to eventually be met with a bad fate,” I said, clipping the wrap around his arm with a finality that echoed my worries.

“I… I just don’t want to see you hurt, okay?” I added, turning around to put everything away. My voice softened, betraying the depth of my feelings and the fear that gnawed at me every time he recklessly threw himself into danger.

Toru sighed, running his free hand through his hair. "I get it, Y/N. I really do. It's just... this is who I am. Protecting people, fighting curses—it's what I'm meant to do. But I promise you, I'll be more careful from now on," he said, his tone earnest.

I sighed. "You better. Because if you keep scaring me like this, I might just have to find a way to tie you down and keep you safe myself," I said with a weak smile, trying to lighten the mood.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I'd like to see you try," he teased. Toru felt his body warm up as he absorbed my words. Did you really care about him that much? The thought seemed to surprise him, stirring something deep within him that he hadn’t fully acknowledged before. Maybe, just maybe, you possibly felt something for him as well? Or did you mean it as a friend? These types of questions pondered his mind as you continued to put the medical supplies away.

“Okay, that should do it. Now let's get out of here before Utahime sees us,” I said, turning around to face him. As I did, I realized how close we were to each other, our faces only inches apart. The sudden proximity made my breath catch in my throat, and I could see the same surprise reflected in his eyes.

We both instantly tensed up, the proximity catching us off guard. The air between us felt charged, a silent tension simmering just below the surface. I could feel the warmth radiating from his body, and my heart began to race.

I quickly pulled away from him, feeling my face heat up with embarrassment. “S-Sorry. I-I didn’t—” I stammered, struggling to find the right words to diffuse the awkwardness. My mind raced, trying to process the unexpected closeness and what it might mean.

“No, don’t be,” he interrupted, his voice softer, trying to compose himself. He reached out and gently touched my arm, his touch sending a shiver down my spine. “I, uh, didn’t mind,” he added, his voice carrying an uncharacteristic vulnerability that took me by surprise.

Now all that was left was an awkward silence between us, the unspoken tension hanging heavily in the air. We both stood there, not knowing what to say next, the moment stretching out longer than it should have. Thankfully, a miracle happened when Suguru walked in, his presence breaking the silence and startling both Toru and me.

“Hey, you two. Shoko and I were thinking about going out for dinner tonight. You two are coming with us. I don’t care what you say. Shoko has been on my case all week saying how we need to all hang out,” Suguru said, instantly sensing the tension between us. He noticed how red Satoru had gotten, causing him to smirk.

“Well… I’ll just be waiting outside for you two when you’re ready,” he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Just as he began to leave, he turned to face Satoru, giving him a knowing wink.

Toru just flipped him off, trying to ignore the rapid pace of his heartbeat. “That guy,” he muttered, shaking his head, but there was no real malice in his tone.

I chuckled, grateful for Suguru’s impeccable timing. “Guess we don’t have much of a choice, huh?” I said, trying to ease the lingering awkwardness. My heart was still pounding from the earlier closeness, but I tried to act normal.

“Nope. But maybe it’ll be fun,” Toru replied, a hint of his usual confidence returning. He ran a hand through his hair, still looking a bit flustered. “Let’s get going before they come back and drag us out,” he added, offering a small, somewhat shy smile.

As we made our way outside, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of emotions. The unexpected closeness with Toru had stirred something in me. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, wondering if he felt the same.

“So, dinner, huh? Any idea where they’re planning to go?” I asked, trying to keep the conversation light and avoid the tension that still lingered.

“No clue, but knowing Suguru, it’ll be somewhere decent,” Toru replied, his voice a bit more relaxed. He glanced at me, his eyes searching mine for a moment. “You okay? You seem… a bit off.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said quickly, hoping to sound convincing. “Just a lot on my mind, I guess. And, you know, you scared me today with that injury.”

Toru’s expression softened, and he reached out to touch my arm again, this time more deliberately. “I’m sorry about that. I promise I’ll be more careful. I don’t like seeing you worried,” he said, his voice sincere.

“I appreciate that, Toru. Just… take care of yourself, okay? I need my study partner with me at all times.” I joked, feeling a strange mix of relief and lingering tension.

He chuckled and nodded, his eyes lingering on me for a moment longer before we continued walking.

*****

Dinner with Suguru and Shoko turned out to be more fun than I had expected. The restaurant was a cozy place near the edge of town, known for its delicious ramen and lively atmosphere. The walls were adorned with colorful posters and fairy lights, giving the place a warm, welcoming vibe. The inviting aroma of rich broth and sizzling dishes filled the air as we walked in. Shoko was already there, waiting for us at a corner table, waving enthusiastically as soon as she spotted us.

“Hey, you two lovebirds!” she teased, her grin wide and mischievous. Both Toru and I blushed furiously, glancing at each other awkwardly.

“Cut it out, Shoko,” Toru grumbled, though his eyes sparkled with amusement. Despite his annoyance, there was a playful edge to his voice that made me smile.

As we settled in, the conversation flowed easily. Suguru recounted a hilarious story about one of their recent missions, complete with exaggerated impressions and wild gestures. Shoko chimed in with her dry wit, and soon, we were all laughing.

Despite the light-hearted atmosphere, I couldn’t help but steal glances at Toru. His laughter was infectious, his eyes crinkling at the corners when he smiled, and every time he laughed, my heart seemed to flutter a little more. I wondered if he noticed the way I looked at him, or if he felt the same way.

At one point, Toru caught me staring and our eyes locked for a moment longer than usual. I quickly looked away, feeling my cheeks heat up. Did he know what I was feeling? Did he feel it too?

“You okay?” Toru asked, his voice soft and concerned. He leaned in slightly, his presence calming yet thrilling.

“Yeah, just thinking,” I replied, trying to sound casual. “This place is really nice. Thanks for bringing us here, Shoko.”

“Anytime,” Shoko said with a wink. “I knew we all needed a break. Plus, watching you two dance around each other is the best entertainment.”

“Shoko!” I exclaimed, my face growing even hotter.

“Well, it’s true,” Suguru added with a smirk. “You two have been acting strange ever since we got here. Just saying.”

Toru cleared his throat, looking uncharacteristically flustered. “Alright, enough of that. Let’s just enjoy the food, okay?”

We all laughed, and the conversation shifted to lighter topics. As the night wore on, the laughter and camaraderie made me feel more at ease.

Midway through the meal, I excused myself to go to the restroom. As I washed my hands, I stared at my reflection in the mirror, trying to steady my racing heart. Why was it so hard to just tell him how I felt? Every time I thought I had the courage, something held me back. Maybe it was fear of rejection, or perhaps the worry that it would change everything between us.

When I returned to the table, I saw Aksana entering the restaurant. She was hard to miss with her striking blond hair and confident stride. As soon as she spotted us, her eyes lit up, and she made a beeline for our table, her gaze zeroing in on Toru.

“Hey, Satoru!” she greeted, her voice overly sweet and completely ignoring the rest of us.

“Aksana,” he acknowledged her with a nod. His usually bright eyes seemed a touch colder, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he was annoyed by her sudden appearance.

“Mind if I join you guys?” she asked, not waiting for a response before pulling up a chair next to Toru. She slid into the seat, her proximity to him making my stomach churn.

Suguru and Shoko exchanged glances, sensing the tension immediately. Suguru raised an eyebrow at me, while Shoko gave a small, sympathetic smile. I tried to focus on my food, but Aksana’s presence made it difficult. She leaned in close to Toru, laughing at his jokes in an exaggerated manner and touching his arm whenever she got the chance.

“So, Toru, I heard you had a pretty intense mission today,” Aksana said, her voice dripping with false concern. “You must be exhausted. Maybe I could help you relax later?”

Toru shifted uncomfortably, clearly not enjoying the attention. “I’m fine, really,” he replied, trying to gently brush her off. “Just needed some time with my friends.”

“Oh, but I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if I borrowed you for a bit,” she insisted, her smile not reaching her eyes. “Right, Y/n?”

I forced a smile, though it felt more like a grimace. “Actually, Aksana, we were in the middle of something. Maybe another time?”

Aksana’s eyes flicked to me with what seemed to be disgust, her smile faltering for a split second before she regained her composure. “Oh, of course. I just thought Satoru might like a change of company.”

Suguru, sensing the rising tension, decided to step in. “Actually, we’re all having a really good time together. It’s been a while since we all hung out like this.”

Shoko nodded in agreement, adding, “Yeah, I’ve been wanting us all to hang out again, so tonight seemed like a good night to do so.”

Aksana’s smile was tight, clearly masking her irritation. “Oh, well then, don’t mind me. I’ll just be sitting here, listening to your stories.” Her tone was overly sweet, but the fake smile gave her away.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. The food was delicious, and the conversation lively, but Aksana’s presence cast a shadow over the fun. She kept trying to insert herself into our conversations, making pointed comments and giving Toru lingering looks. I even almost lost control of my cursed technique because she kept hugging his arm. And by that I mean the winds started to pick up like crazy outside, causing the doors to blow open, which startled a lot of people. Shoko thankfully brought me back to my senses, but it was still so aggravating to see Aksana practically throw herself on Toru. By the time we left the restaurant, I was feeling more confused and frustrated than ever.

Toru walked me home, the silence between us thick with unspoken words. The night air was cool, and I could feel the tension building with every step. Finally, we reached my doorstep. I turned to him, searching for the right words to express my feelings.

“Toru, I…” I began, my voice trailing off as I looked into his deep blue eyes.

“Yeah?” he prompted, his gaze fixed on mine, full of curiosity and something else I couldn’t quite place.

Before I could continue, my phone buzzed with a message from Kai. He needed help with the science project again.

Damnit, I forgot we needed to start working on that.

I recalled the scene vividly, etched into my memory like a photograph frozen in time. The classroom hummed with nervousness as Mr. Takahashi dropped the bombshell: a major science project due at the end of the semester…two months away.

—flashback—

“Y/n, you’ll be partnered with Kai,” Sensei Takahashi announced, gesturing towards Kai who was grinning nervously.

Kai’s eyes met mine briefly, and I could sense his relief mixed with a tinge of apprehension. “Looks like it’s you and me,” I said, offering a reassuring smile to calm his nerves.

“Yeah, for the next four months,” Kai replied, his voice tinged with what seemed to be disappointment. I looked towards him and found his eyes looking at someone else. I followed his gaze and saw him staring at another girl in our class, Amai, his expression softening with admiration.

I couldn't help but chuckle inwardly as I noticed Kai's subtle admiration for Amai. It was clear that he had a crush on her, which I thought was adorable.

"W-What?" he stammered, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment at being caught.

"Nothing, just thinking," I replied casually, suppressing a smile as I reached for a pencil and paper.

"Now, let's start brainstorming some ideas. What do you think we should do our project over?" I initiated, launching into a discussion about potential topics. Despite the distraction of Kai's crush, we delved into a detailed exchange of ideas, weighing the pros and cons of each suggestion.

—end of flashback—

I sighed, feeling torn between my responsibilities and my emotions. This moment was slipping away, just like so many others.

“Never mind,” I said, forcing a smile to hide my disappointment. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Toru nodded, but there was a hint of disappointment in his eyes that mirrored my own feelings. “Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

As I watched him walk away, I couldn’t help but wonder what might have happened if I had just spoken up. Would he have understood? Would it have changed anything? The weight of my unspoken feelings pressed heavily on my heart. I turned and went inside, trying to shake off the lingering frustration.

That night, as I lay in bed, my mind replayed the evening’s events over and over. Aksana’s blatant attempts to get Toru’s attention, the way his eyes had softened when he looked at me, and the unspoken words that hung between us. It was all too much to process, and sleep came slowly.

*****

The next day at school, I was determined to talk to Toru, to finally clear the air between us. The tension that we had yesterday had been gnawing at me all night, and I couldn't bear another day of uncertainty. I spotted him near his locker, and with a deep breath, I began to make my way over.

As I approached, I noticed Aksana was already there, her laughter echoing through the hallway.

”Oh Toru, you’re really a great guy!” She praised, spotting me in the distance. Her eyes narrowed a bit as she continued to talk to him.

“You know, I actually need help with my homework and I was wondering if you could help me with it now since we have some free time?” She asked. As Toru was about to answer, he spotted you in the corner of his eye and turned towards you, a small, hopeful smile tugging at his lips, making my heart flutter with anticipation.

I smiled back and quickened my pace, but just as I was about to reach him, Kai stepped in front of me, blocking my path. "Y/N, I need to talk to you about something," Kai said urgently, his voice low. Toru's smile faded slightly as he noticed the interruption.

"Well, actually Kai, I'm kind of in the middle of something important," I replied, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice.

"Please, Y/N. It’s about Amai," Kai insisted, his eyes pleading. He leaned in closer, ensuring our conversation remained private. "I need your help."

Confusion flickered across my face as I looked up at him. Meanwhile, Toru's eyes narrowed, a twinge of jealousy evident as he watched us.

"What's going on, Kai?" I asked, my curiosity piqued despite the awkward timing.

Kai glanced around nervously before speaking. "I want to ask Amai to the dance, but I have no idea how to do it. I need your help to get to know her better."

I smiled softly at him, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Toru's jaw clenched subtly at the sight. "Kai, the dance is still a while away. You have plenty of time to get to know her," I said, trying to calm his nerves.

"But that's the problem. I'm so nervous around her. I need someone to be there when I talk to her. Please, be my wingman," Kai pleaded, his desperation clear. He grabbed my hands, his earnestness almost palpable.

Toru's gaze darkened at the intimate gesture, his jealousy simmering just below the surface. I nodded towards Kai, deciding to help him after I got talk to Toru.

"Okay, I'll help you," I said, squeezing Kai's hands briefly before pulling away. "But wait here for a moment, I need to handle something first."

Before I could take another step, I saw Aksana grab Toru’s arm, her voice still bright and cheerful. “So, Toru, about that homework…” she trailed off, leading him away. My heart clenched slightly as I watched them walk off together.

"Y/N? Is everything alright?" Kai asked, his concern evident.

I sighed, feeling a wave of disappointment wash over me. "Yeah, let's just go," I replied, my voice heavy with frustration. The chance to clear things up with Toru had slipped away again.

*****

"Wait, I need to talk to—" Toru started, quickly removing Aksana's hand from his arm. He turned around, his eyes searching for me, but he was too late. I was already walking away with Kai.

"Are you alright, Toru? You seem tense," Aksana asked, her voice filled with concern as she noticed the change in Toru's demeanor.

Toru forced a smile, trying to mask his frustration. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... thinking about some stuff," he replied vaguely, his gaze lingering where I had disappeared with Kai. The sight of me with someone else stirred a mix of regret and irritation within him.

Aksana's eyes followed his, her brow furrowing slightly. "Is everything okay between you two?" she asked gently, her voice soft. Aksana knew what she was doing. She feigned concern, but inside, she relished the friction between us. It was her chance to step in and take my place.

Toru hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. "It's... complicated," he admitted reluctantly, his thoughts still consumed by my departure with Kai. The unresolved tension gnawed at him, leaving him unsettled.

Aksana nodded understandingly, her expression sympathetic. "Well, if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here," she offered, placing a hand on his arm. He quickly removed it, the touch making him uncomfortable.

"Thanks, Aksana," he said, forcing a polite smile. His mind was still preoccupied with thoughts of you, and the conversation he desperately wanted to have.

“So, shall we go to that small little cafe and you can help me with the homework?” She asked.

"Sorry…I gotta go," he added abruptly, his voice strained. Leaving Aksana behind, he walked away, his emotions in turmoil. He needed to clear his head and find a way to resolve the growing tension between you two.

Aksana huffed as she watched the white haired boy leave her alone in the school hallway. She tapped her foot, folding her arms together as if she were in thought.

“Looks like I need to play harder…”

____________

Part III coming soon!

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heartsandhischier · 2 months

Text

Breaking the ice

andrei svechnikov x female!reader

summary - 1.2k words. Y/N and Andrei are about to make their first public appearance of their faux relationship part 2 of The Pretend Play

author's note - omd I've already outlined this series to a 10 part series... getting a bit too caught up in this Russian man

warnings - none i think

It was the night of Andrei’s crucial playoff game. The chilly evening air did nothing to cool the simmering tension between Andrei and Y/N as they made their way to the bustling arena. It was their first public outing together since the arranging of their faux relationship. Y/N, despite her visible discomfort, wore Andrei's jersey, the number 37 standing out boldly against the fabric, a symbol of her reluctant role in this charade.

In the car, the atmosphere had been thick with their mutual resentment, their conversation peppered with barbed comments and thinly veiled annoyance. "So, how many hours of my life am I sacrificing to the gods of ice tonight?" Y/N had asked with a heavy dose of sarcasm, her eyes rolling so hard Andrei thought they might get stuck that way.

"Hockey games have three periods, each 20 minutes long, but with breaks and potential overtime, who knows? Could be your whole night," Andrei replied dryly, his focus on the road but his mind racing with the implications of their public debut.

"And it's going to be cold, right? I mean, it's an ice rink. Couldn't you play a sport in a more comfortable climate?" Y/N continued, her complaints a verbal manifestation of her reluctance to be part of this spectacle.

"It's not the Arctic, Y/N. You'll survive. Besides, you're wearing my jersey. Consider it a... personal heater," Andrei shot back, the corner of his mouth twitching in what could have been the start of a smile under different circumstances. "You might actually enjoy it if you stopped complaining for a minute."

Y/N huffed, crossing her arms over the jersey that draped loosely over her frame. "Oh, please, like I'm really going to understand anything that's happening. I just don't get why I have to be there if I don't even follow the sport."

"Because you're supposed to be 'the supportive girlfriend,'" Andrei said, emphasizing the last two words with air quotes, his eyes briefly meeting hers before returning to the road.

The bickering had ebbed as they neared the arena, replaced by a tense silence that spoke volumes of their current state of affairs. They were two individuals tied together by circumstance and necessity, each bearing the weight of their roles with a mix of disdain and resignation.

As they stepped out of the car and into the view of waiting cameras and eager fans, Andrei could feel Y/N stiffen beside him. He offered his arm, a gesture meant for the watching eyes, and after a brief hesitation, she took it, her grip on his arm surprisingly firm.

The flash of cameras and the murmur of the crowd greeted them as they made their way inside, their smiles practiced and their steps measured. "Remember, just smile and wave. Stick to the script, and we'll get through this," Andrei murmured to Y/N, his voice barely audible over the noise.

"Script? I wasn't aware there was a script for pretending to enjoy watching people chase a puck on ice," Y/N whispered back, her voice laced with a mix of humor and bitterness.

As they approached the grand entrance, Andrei leaned in, his voice low but firm. “Hold my hand,” he instructed, a blend of request and command. Y/N’s initial reaction was one of surprise, her brows knitting together in confusion. Yet, his rationale, whispered in a hurried breath – “You wanted me to step up, right? ‘If we’re going to sell this lie?” – prompted a reluctant compliance. With a soft sigh, she placed her hand in his, their fingers intertwining.

The red carpet that adorned the arena’s entrance was a sea of flashing lights and eager faces, the fans’ excitement mirrored by the curiosity swirling around Andrei and Y/N’s relationship. Despite the turmoil of emotions beneath the surface, they navigated with grace, their smiles carefully curated masks worn for the world to see.

As they pause for photographs, the press urges them for a display of affection, keen to capture a moment that would headline the next day's gossip columns. Feeling the weight of expectation on her shoulders, Y/N turns to Andrei, whispering a challenge masked as a flirtation. "Let's see if you're as good at hockey as you're at kissing," she says.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Y/N bridged the gap between them, pressing a kiss to his lips. It was a bold move, surprising Andrei. The cameras flash frantically, capturing the moment from every angle. The kiss, though and part of their act, sends a ripple of excitement through the crowd, and for a moment, blurs the lines between their public facade and private discomfort.

Andrei, caught off guard by Y/N's audacity, can't help but respond to the kiss with a genuine spark of admiration for her boldness. As they part, he looks down at her, a new sense of respect mingling with the complex web of emotions he harbors towards her. The crowd cheers, delighted by the display, and for a fleeting second, Andrei forgets the world watching them.

Following this electrifying prelude, Y/N was ushered to her seat by Andrei's PR manager, ensuring her smooth transition through the still-buzzing crowd. The arena was alive with anticipation, the energy of the fans a pulsating backdrop to the unfolding drama on the ice.

The match was a nail-biter, the Hurricanes and the Flyers locked in a dance of skill, strategy, and sheer will. Andrei's focus was laser-sharp, undeniably influenced by the presence of Y/N in the stand. Her support, whether real or part of their elaborate ruse, fueled his determination.

When Andrei scored, the arena erupted into cheers and applause, a wave of collective joy sweeping through the crowd. Y/N was on her feet, cheering along with the masses, her earlier doubts and pretense of their situation momentarily forgotten in the genuine thrill of the moment. Their eyes met across teh distance, a silent exchange that carried the weight of words and emotions.

The jumbotron, ever watchful, captured Y/n’s animated reaction, her image filling the screen for all to see. Andrei, glancing up at the replay, was struck by the sight of her genuine smile – a smile he realised he had never truly seen until this moment. The sight of her, so vibrant and unrestrained in her joy, sent an unexpected flutter through his heart, a momentary skip in its rhythm that he couldnt quite comprehend.

As the finals buzzer sounds, signalling a hard-fought victory for the Hurricanes. The atmosphere became electric. Andrei was soon engulfed by his teammates, their shared euphoria palpable in their jubilant celebration. Yet, amidst the chaos of victory, andrei’s thoughts lingered on Y/N. as the team commenced their victory lap, he sought her out in the crowd, their eyes meeting once more. For a moment, it was as if they were the only two people in the arena, her smile is genuine, her applause enthusiastic.

After the game, Andrei finds Y/N waiting for him outside the locker room. The game had transformed the awkwardness of their initial interactions into something more fluid. “You’re pretty good at this thing,” Y/N quipped, her tone light, teasing, yet underscored with a hint of admiration.

Andrei, still riding the wave of adrenaline and unexpected sentimentality, responded with genuine humility. “Thanks for being here,” he said, his voice carrying a warmth and sincerity that reflected his gratitude.

“Well, it’s not like I had a choice,” her playful retort was met with laughter from them both, a spontaneous moment of unity that felt strangely right.

#andrei svechnikov #andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov fic #andrei svechnikov imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fanfic #hockey fic #hockey fanfic #canes fanfic #canes fanfiction #carolina hurricanes fanfic #carolina hurricanes fic #carolina hurricanes imagine #andrei svechnikov x y/n

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slytherheign · 9 months

Text

CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS | daniel ricciardo

PART 4/4 OF BROKEN GLASS AND HONEY SERIES.

CAN ALSO BE READ AS A ONE-SHOT.

PAIRINGS: ex!daniel ricciardo x fem!reader, max verstappen x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 2.1k

SUMMARY: sometimes you just don’t know the answer until someone’s on their knees and asks you.

WARNINGS: rejection, false hope, infatuation, feelings of hurt and overwhelming pain. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: 16+]

AUTHOR’S NOTE: inspired by taylor swift’s song with the same title. we have reached the end of the series! sorry if i hurt some of you emotionally. btw, there are a lot of references to the previous parts in this.

DESTINATION: Angst Avenue | GO TO SERIES MASTERLIST or GO BACK TO THE STATION.

Rejection.

A word that carried so much weight in matters of the heart. It hit him with a force he never saw coming, leaving him breathless, bewildered, and questioning every decision he had made.

The pain of rejection cut deep, undermining the confidence he once had, and casting shadows over the hopes and dreams he dared to envision.

Rejected.

Rejected from McLaren.

Rejected from a Red Bull seat.

And now, he was rejected once again.

In an instant, his world felt shattered, and he questioned just how worthy he truly was of love and affection.

He poured his heart out, baring his soul in that vulnerable moment when he knelt on one knee. He thought you had shared something meaningful, a connection that was genuine and real.

He thought it would be enough.

Daniel’s car traveled home with one less person inside that night. But even if he was already in his garage, he refused to step out of his car. He stayed so he could sit there in his hurt.

He gripped the steering wheel tightly, a physical manifestation of the emotional turmoil within him.

It was hard, almost impossible, not to take it personally, to wonder what could have gone wrong. Was it something he said? Something he did? Or perhaps it was simply a matter of timing and circumstance, beyond his control.

He ran his hand through his hair, his face reflecting a mixture of frustration and resignation.

He could say that he longed for clarity, a glimpse into your thoughts and reasons, but that would be a lie. Because in all honesty, he kind of saw it coming.

He wasn’t sure what was worse, the fact that you picked Max or the fact that there was a part of him that always knew you would pick Max.

Why did he even try?

Oh, right.

Hope.

Because of hope.

He tried because you showed him hope.

You showed him hope—a glimmer of light that he hadn't seen in ages. Life had become monotonous, blending into an array of muted gray, until you came along. Your entry into his life was like a vibrant burst of color, injecting new life into his weary soul. He dared to hope, to believe that he had found something extraordinary.

It was a peculiar feeling. To be caught between longing and despair, to have his heart both soar and shatter within the same breath. The intoxicating aura of love was both a beacon of hope and a cruel illusion, and he found himself entangled in that painful paradox.

With a final deep breath, he left his car, ready to face his family who were staying in his home just for this special night. He told his family for a reason, he just couldn’t keep it in.

But now he wished he didn’t.

Cheer and applause were what met him when he entered the door. His family had huge smiles plastered on their faces, clearly excited about the news they were expecting.

Until it stopped.

It all stopped when his lips trembled, trying to fake a smile.

It all stopped when they saw the tears on his face.

They didn’t even need to ask what happened. They already knew.

His sister splashed out the bottle of Dom Perignon, but no one was celebrating.

"She would've made such a lovely bride. What a shame she's fucked in the head," his father said. His mom’s ring was still in his pocket, and your picture was still in his wallet. But love…

Love slipped beyond his reaches.

There was nothing to celebrate.

Max was walking you home, still holding the umbrella to protect you from the rain. Neither of you spoke and neither of you really cared. Max knew, from the way your lips shook, eyes cried, and the whimpers that left your mouth, that you did not want to speak at that moment. He respected and understood that.

He was more understanding now than he was before.

You were speechless. Your mouth could not utter a single word, but your mind made up for it by clouding itself with overwhelming thoughts.

You remembered that one night when fate played a part in your first meeting with Daniel.

That night, he asked you to dance and you refused. You refused because you knew he was asking you to dance to a song of love and new beginnings.

But after a single conversation, it was you who asked him if he was still willing to dance.

You always knew that dancing was a dangerous game. But that night, you started it when you offered your hand to Daniel.

The dance continued.

But now, you dropped his dance while dancing. Left him out there, crestfallen on the landing with your champagne problems.

One for the money.

Two for the show.

You never were ready.

So, you let him go.

And you left him alone.

You just didn’t know the answer until he was already on his knees and asked you.

You couldn’t even give him a reason.

His proposal should have brought you joy, excitement, and a feeling of being cherished. But instead, you had found yourself struggling, torn between the present and the ghosts of your past.

The same exact past that was walking beside you right now.

It was not that Daniel wasn't kind or loving, he truly was. He possessed all the qualities one could desire in a partner. But your heart lingered elsewhere.

There was someone before him. Someone who awoken a flame within you, a love so fierce and profound that it felt like it could withstand anything. And then, life happened, and you drifted apart, your paths diverging towards separate horizons.

But even as the seasons changed, and new opportunities came knocking at your door, that love never truly left you. It remained etched in the deepest recesses of your being, an indelible mark upon your soul.

Accepting his proposal would have been a betrayal, not only to him, but to yourself as well. It was a painful decision to make, but you owed it to yourself and to him, to be honest and not settle for anything less than a love that was pure. For one can only truly give their heart to another when they are whole themselves.

His heart was glass and you dropped it.

You didn’t even notice you reached your apartment until Max opened the door for you. He sat you down on your couch, before leaving you for a moment to heat some water and prepare a bath for you.

He went back right after, crouching in front of you so he could see your face. You were looking down, still crying. He placed a finger under your chin, moving it upwards so you could face him. And then he fixed the wet hair that covered your face, wiped your tears, and kissed your forehead.

The heart wants what it wants, and yours was still beating in an unbreakable rhythm alongside the person in front of you—Max.

You suddenly recalled what Daniel told you before, when he told you an advice his father gave him and then he explained it.

“Time matters, yes. But the length is subjective. Love is not supposed to be a competition where time is the sole judge. Sometimes, longer doesn’t mean healthier, and shorter doesn’t make it insincere or artificial.”

He said that love was not supposed to be a competition. And he was not wrong about that.

It wasn’t a competition because it never was a competition in the first place.

You loved Daniel, but you were in love with Max.

It was always Max.

He poured his heart into that proposal, believing that you were the one. He had envisioned a future together with you, filled with love, laughter, and shared dreams. But perhaps fate had different plans in store for him. And though it stung him, he must pick up the pieces and keep moving forward.

His heart ached now. Those promises whispered in the darkest hours, the dreams woven with tender hands, they all shimmered with the possibility of a love that transcended boundaries. He clung to those words, as fragile as glass, praying that they would withstand the test of time.

Yet, here he was, lost in a labyrinth of broken dreams. The reality bit bitterly, gnawing at the frayed edges of his shattered heart. False hope, they called it. A cruel game of chance that you unwittingly roped him into. He knew, deep down, that you didn't do it intentionally. And that knowledge is what steeped his sorrow in a pot of bittersweet brew.

Because despite the pain that seared through his veins, he couldn't summon an ember of anger towards you. Love had a way of blinding people to the faults of those we held dearest. And so, he found himself teetering on the precipice of resentment and forgiveness, unable to fully commit to either.

It was a lonely place to be trapped in, the emotional escape room in his heart that didn't have an escape. The echoes of once-hopeful conversations reverberated through the hollow chambers of his mind, each word etching deeper into his wounded heart.

Though the pain felt overwhelming now, Daniel knew that time would heal his wounds. It may take days, weeks, or even months, but he would pick up the pieces, rebuild his shattered heart, and learn to love again.

NETHERLANDS. AUGUST 25, 2024.

Daniel was running down the paddock, planning to head to the pitlane when a curious photographer stopped him to ask a question.

“Sorry for asking this, but I think I speak for all of us,” the photographer pointed to the fans behind him who were clearly recording this exact moment. They cheered the moment Daniel looked at them and he smiled. “When I say we are all curious about what really is your relationship with Y/N?” the photographer continued.

He chuckled. “Why did you want to know that?”

“Well, she hasn’t been beside you for months and then we just saw her with Max hours ago before you came.”

He could only smile, a genuine one.

“Y/N and I are friends, really close friends like what we’ve always been.”

“Really? Some of us thought you were dating because she was seen a lot with you before,” a fan shouted.

He laughed.

They didn’t need to know.

“What? I can’t have a female friend now?” he joked.

“Now that I’m thinking about it… you never launched anything,” the photographer mentioned.

Right. Even after dating you for months, you didn’t want to be affectionate with him in public. That was another telltale sign he chose to ignore. That was the reason he decided to propose in just under 6 months of being in a relationship with you. It was because he was in a rush, he thought that if you became engaged, you would finally let him tell the world about the two of you.

Now that he thought about it, maybe what he had was just an infatuation. An infatuation so intense that it hurt like the real thing. Maybe for so long, he just wanted to feel something and you came along at the right time. He didn’t even know anymore. And he didn’t want to know. It was all in the past.

“That’s right,” Daniel nodded. “Because we have nothing to launch.”

Just as he said that, you and Max entered his view. You two were holding hands and Max was laughing at something you said.

Daniel smiled.

“Look at them,” he gestured to you and Max, the photographer and the fans looked at who he was pointing to. “Max and her are literally meant for each other.”

“I’ve never seen Max laugh like that before,” the photographer said.

“Well, Y/N is the only one who could make him laugh like that if we’re being honest,” he chuckled again. “They make a great couple, they make each other so happy. And I’m happy for them,” he said.

Love wasn't a dead-end road; it was a winding path, full of twists and turns. Rejection was a part of that journey. For deep within, beyond the realms of rejection, dwelled a longing for love that refused to extinguish. He believed there was someone out there, someone who was meant to be for him, just as you were meant to be with Max.

There was one more thing Daniel always believed in other than taking chances.

It was that everything happens for a reason.

You and Max caught his eyes. Max nodded at him, he nodded back.

If he could turn back time, he wouldn't change a thing.

He may not have found the love of his life, but he did find another best friend.

He smiled at both of you, and you returned his smile.

You both knew Daniel would find the real thing instead.

She would patch up the tapestry that you shred.

And he wouldn’t even remember all your champagne problems.

SLYTHERHEIGN TAGLIST: @writingstoraes @joshiiieeenesx

FORMULA ONE TAGLIST: @dreamingofautopia @lpab @matildrry @fangirl125reader @tall-tanned-tattoo @aundercover @stevesworld9 @princessria127

JOIN THE FINALE CELEBRATION!

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velvette-creations · 1 month

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The softest hearts always have the toughest shields

Hazbin Hotel: Lute x Seraphim!Reader

Rating: Teen

WC: 1.2 k

Prompt: Wound Care for @sweetspicybingo (Hurt/Comfort Bingo Collection)

Warnings: Blood, injury, stitches, needles, mild angst, hurt/comfort

Summary: You tend to Lute after she returns to heaven in the aftermath of the extermination

To say Adam’s death caused panic and chaos in Heaven was an understatement; there were very few times when you saw Sera shaken to her core. Dread and hysteria chimed through the realm as hard truths came to fruition; angels could be killed, and souls in hell could be redeemed. The misfortune of Adam’s demise and the appearance of Sir Pentious as a redeemed soul had dealt her two blows, leaving her at a loss for words while Emily flitted away happily. She gushed over the new arrival, immediately showing him around.

“Please tend to Lute,” Sera whispered, gently touching your arm as the exterminators ascended back into the Heavenly Realm.

“Of course,” you assured her, noting that the eyes on her wings looked solemn and heavy.

Blood oozed from Lute’s amputated arm as she stumbled forward, rage emanating from her entire body. Adam’s halo and her sword clattered to the ground. Her teeth gnashed, fingers digging into her flesh as she attempted to slow the bleeding. You stepped forward, gently placing your hands on her shoulders.

“Come, let me tend to you,” you murmured, flying over to a more private area. You had always admired Lute’s brash attitude and brute strength; you held a soft spot in your heart for her. She had suffered the pain of ripping off her own arm to save her life. You could never handle being an exorcist; the very idea made you blanch with horror. While you often kept your opinions to yourself, you had been happy to learn that Charlie Morningstar had been correct in her assessment. Could this mean peace? Most likely not considering the angels that fell to their deaths at the hands of hell’s minions.

“Once I’m healed, I’m gonna fly down there and annihilate all their pathetic demonic asses! I’m gonna make them all suffer, tear them limb from limb, and shove their fingers down their fucking throats!” she growled as you pushed her into a chair before manifesting a bowl of warm water and a clean cloth. You gently cleaned her wound, wiping the luminous blood away.

“Let’s not be too hasty. You need to heal first. It will take time for your arm to regenerate,” you informed her, waving your hands to produce a spool of silk and a needle.

Confusion etched across her face. “Huh? It will grow back?”

“I see no reason why it shouldn’t.”

“Well fuck me, that’s the best news I’ve gotten all day,” she grumbled, wincing in pain as you began the sutures, working meticulously to ensure the wound was closed correctly. Angelic powers worked wonders, but specific measures must be taken. You pressed your palm to the sutured injury before coating it in your white light to help hasten the healing process.

You reached out to remove Lute’s black exorcist mask before skimming your fingers down her cheek. You noted how she pressed into your touch.“There we go, all done. I’m sorry about Adam. I know you two were close.”

Her shoulders slumped, her facade slowly crumbling as she allowed vulnerability to creep in. Her wings hung limply as tears rolled down her face. You caught her in your arms as she rocked forward, collapsing into your chest as your massive wings wrapped around her, further shielding her and allowing a private alcove for her grief and turmoil. Her tears soaked through your white dress while your hand soothingly stroked her short, white hair. You had never seen her so broken before. However, you had always suspected that a soft center lay beneath her hardened exterior. All the armor and weapons in the world couldn’t shield someone’s true nature or emotions, no matter how hard they fought. The tips of your feathers gingerly caressed her back as she lifted her head as one of your pillowy plumes slipped under her chin.

“You better not tell anyone you saw me cry, or I’ll….” You noted the way her voice cracked.

“Hmm let’s see, you’ll rip my wings off or smash my face in. I get the picture. Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me, but there is nothing wrong with showing emotion and empathy,” you said, a wry smile twitching on your lips. Lute always was…well, Lute.

She narrowed her eyes before swiping a tightly balled fist under her running nose. “So long as we’re on the same page,” she said.

You nodded to indicate to her that you were before tenderly brushing your fingers over her healing wound. “New skin is starting to form; that’s a good sign.”

“Y…yeah, thanks for patching me up,” she swallowed.

“It’s my pleasure. Part of my duties is looking after you exorcists,” you teased.

“I’m sure Seraphim have more important things to worry about than ripped body limbs,” she sighed, rubbing the area and getting used to the feeling. “What if it doesn’t grow back?”

“Then I suppose you’ll have to learn how to fight one-handed. If anyone can master such a feat, it would be you. You would make sure no one fucked with the one-armed exorcist.”

A small smile fluttered briefly across her face, her nose scrunching slightly. “Hey, maybe I could fuse a sword in place of my arm if it doesn’t regenerate.”

“See? Now you’re looking on the bright side!” You gently swiped your fingers under her eyes, swiping away her remaining tear tracks.

“Thanks for patching me up. You did a good job,” she murmured.

“It was my pleasure, Lute. Don’t forget to take time to grieve,” you said encouragingly as you squeezed her shoulders and stared into her pale yellow eyes.

Your eyes locked with hers for what seemed like an eternity. A pleasant warmth spread through your body as your fingers laced through the fingers of her remaining hand.

“Adam and I were close, but he was never the one I cared about…in that way,” she whispered.

“Oh.’ The word fell softly from your parted lips.

“I have to go see someone, but I’ll find you later?” she asked hopefully.

“Please do.”

You watched as she flapped away with Adam’s halo clutched in her hand. You pressed one hand to your chest as pleasant flutters filled your stomach before whisking away the mess and supplies before seeking out Sera to see if she needed assistance.

“I’m afraid we’re in a mess,” she sighed, rubbing her face.

“Things may seem hopeless now, but we’ll figure it out—we always do. It seems Charlie Morningstar might be on to something with her redemption plan. Hopefully, that will help us avoid an uprising in hell,” you reasoned.

“Let us hope.”

Lute found you that evening as you settled in your chambers, feet snug in cozy, fuzzy slippers as you relaxed and stretched your fluffy wings.

“Are you feeling any pain?” you questioned kindly as you guided her into your room.

“A little bit, but it’s nothing too bad,” she shrugged, “Man, you Seraphim lucked out with your quarters.”

“Part of the perks of being a high-ranking celestial beings,” you teased, gently bumping her with your elbow.

“Hmm, meanwhile, us exorcists do all the dirty work,” she teased, spinning around to face you, mischief sparking in her eyes.

“I must say…you look damn good with an exorcist blade in your hand,” you grinned, moving in closer, towering above her slightly.

Lute rolled onto her tiptoes before pressing her lips against yours. The searing kiss sparked through you.

“How about I show you what my hands can do?” you purred against her warm lips, squeezing her.

“Oh, you’ve read my mind,” she smirked as your wings wrapped around her.

#fic: hazbin hotel #sweetspicyhc #lute x reader #lute imagine #lute hazbin hotel #lute x you #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel heaven #lute angst #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel angst #hurt/comfort #hazbin hotel fanfiction #lute fanfic

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shorthaltsjester · 1 year

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sometimes people will say “going dark” and then what they’re actually talking about is just people no longer presenting a carefully constructed version of their emotions and experiences.

like. emotional turmoil is not the same as darkness. laudna in this Fictional Universe that has tangibly different stakes wrt to death and killing than our own, is at best like . morally neutral for what she just did like. man has been secretly trying to kill you, and then just tried to do so again, killing him back is a fair choice. and even if i was someone who is excited by delilah’s inability to escape from the narrative, this shit isn’t about delilah. laudna made a choice. if delilah is back or whatever it’s a choice that laudna made because something in that grants her more control than her existing conditions did. this isn’t some Delilah Takes Over, it’s Laudna Expressly Makes The Choice To Call Forth Something within Herself to remedy the lack of control that’s been thrust upon her. if y’all want to Continue to limit Laudna’s agency (as the cr fandom is so, so want to do when a female character makes a choice that isn’t Good according to some weird system of virtue ethics) go ahead.

likewise with orym. little guy is not “going dark” because he has finally made direct action about his emotional turmoil in dealing with a situation which has similarly left him without control and has also placed him in a position where his stalwart conviction towards protecting and honouring those he loves and has lost alike is constantly met with other people he cares for going well.. what if they had a point/we are killing other peoples loved ones/etc. which like . yeah that might be frustrating and in fact might lead him to go, actually, i can’t afford to try and maintain some abject morality where I carry a locket that will literally only provide guilt. orym is completely committed to his beliefs, the locket and what it represents has never been a limit to what he will do, only a reminder of the consequences of what he might cause in those actions. but they Are at war and orym has a billion things on his plate. he can put down the locket. especially when bor’dor is the explicit manifestation of that locket’s symbolism. the subtext rapidly became the text and orym doesn’t need a reminder. it’s there in the fact that team issylra is walking away with two friends, not three.

these are character who have at every turn denied their own emotions in various forms while still being acutely aware of what they deny, whether that awareness was/is fully realized or not. many of laudna’s early convos with ashton show us that there is some awareness to the lighthearted spooky goth girl and how that persona fades when she thinks too much about what has led her and maintained that reality. likewise the entirety of orym’s story thus far is defined by his grief in a very literal sense, it Has extended from that grief to also the commitment he had to the purpose of figuring out the assassination attempt on keyleth but as we have seen, that purpose has fallen apart. paired with the quasi-reopening of his grief that was getting to see will again only to have to turn away, i don’t think there’s a lack of awareness in orym of how much he hurts. but between his actions and 4SD, that hurt tends to get buried under guilt or Responsibility.

and now, finally, both of them have admitted to that Not in the safety of small introspection or one-on-one conversations but with actions that they cannot shy away from or deny. laudna killed bor’dor and orym encouraged her to. and it Is a complex situation but truly I don’t really think it’s a “going dark” one. because they’re not giving into some overhanging Darkness of Morality™, they’re admitting that they are hurt and have long been hurting.

or, y’know, tldr for those who continue to deny laudna and orym agency or fully villainise them for whatever weird reasons . you could listen to laudna and ashton’s conversation that pretty much lays it out explicitly. laudna claims she’s weak for having chosen to kill bor’dor. ashton denies that and affirms instead that, no, she’s hurt.

#critical role #cr spoilers #laudna #orym #team issylra #maybe it’s because a lot of these people r also the people who have no literacy wrt religious and philosophical complexity #that Screams bad experience that hasn’t been reckoned with but. the Big part of healing is that. a lot of the time #especially with Trauma. the mess is gonna come before the pretty little bow does #like noah fence but . this is The Most interesting laudna and orym have been to me this far and it’s not because they’re Darker #it’s because they’re being more true to themselves #maybe this is nitpicky I Don’t Care #me watching c1 as vex admits that she still feels like a burden and Heavily considers being treeified for sondor. ‘is this vex Going Dark?’#as an imogen Lover . let’s be real and admit the only Genuine going dark risk is her at this point in the campaign #because like. i truly don’t see anyone else making the Choice to do absolutely fucked up selfish things #and imogen considers doing that shit like . once every two eps At Least (affectionate but eyes wide about it)#anyway. reunion will be very interesting with an orym and laudna who are shedding pieces of what maintains their like Group Role #bells hells #critical role spoilers #cr3 #cr campaign 3 #bell’s hells #my posts

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nesnejwritings · 6 months

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protective ( miguel o'hara )

miguel o'hara x spider!reader slight use of y/n

warnings - description of injuries, sprinkle of angst and fluff

summary - when he's just a bit overprotective word count - 2,554

The rooftop felt like a battleground, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife. The city below buzzed with life, oblivious to the emotional storm playing out between you and Miguel O'Hara. The cool night air held a hint of electricity, mirroring the sparks flying in the argument that unfolded.

Miguel's stern gaze met yours, his expression a mixture of frustration and genuine concern. Your own eyes, filled with determination and a touch of defiance, locked onto his. It started with a simple disagreement, a clash of ideologies, but beneath the surface, there were layers of unspoken emotions, each word carrying the weight of a shared history and a growing connection.

"You can't keep doing this, Miguel," your voice cut through the night air, and you could feel the emotions bubbling within you, a mix of frustration and a longing for understanding. "I can handle myself, you know."

Miguel's jaw tightened, a silent plea in his eyes. "This is dangerous, and I can't just stand by and watch you get hurt. You don't understand the risks involved."

The words hung in the air like a challenge, and you scoffed, a spark of defiance igniting within you. "I understand the risks perfectly well. I've been doing this long before you decided to swing into my universe. I don't need you to play the overprotective hero."

The rooftop seemed to shrink as the argument intensified. Every word exchanged was a volley in a battle neither of you wanted to lose. Miguel's frustration, born from genuine care, clashed with your need for independence. The emotional undercurrents simmered beneath the surface, threatening to spill over.

"I'm not doing this to annoy you, Y/N. I care about you, and I can't help but worry," Miguel admitted, his voice softer now, the edges of his frustration giving way to vulnerability.

Your eyes narrowed, your own emotions bubbling to the surface. "I get it, Miguel. But I can't have someone constantly watching over me, controlling every move I make. I need space, room to breathe."

The words hung between you like a challenge, a declaration of independence that clashed with Miguel's innate desire to protect. The rooftop felt like a battleground for more than just words; it was a clash of emotions, a struggle to find common ground.

Before he could respond, you turned on your heel, the air around you shimmering with the manifestation of a portal. The decision to leave was made in a moment of defiance, a desperate attempt to break free from the emotional turmoil. You leaped into the portal, the echoes of your argument still ringing in the air.

Your dimension’s New York City sprawled below, a dazzling labyrinth of lights as you swung effortlessly between buildings. The malevolent laughter of the Sinister Six reverberated through the night, signaling the beginning of a battle that would test the limits of your spider-hero abilities.

Rhino, a behemoth of brute force encased in impenetrable armor, charged through the streets with reckless abandon. The sheer impact of his charge sent shockwaves through the ground, creating a seismic battlefield. Attempting to evade his path, you executed a nimble somersault, but the miscalculation led to a direct collision. The impact rattled your bones, the shock absorbed by the advanced technology of your suit, but the aftermath left you with a persistent ache, a testament to the sheer force of Rhino's charge.

Electro, crackling with volatile energy, cast an eerie glow across the city. Bolts of lightning crackled through the air, and despite your acrobatic dodges, one found its mark. The searing jolt surged through your nervous system, momentarily paralyzing your muscles. Each twitch of your limbs felt like a struggle against the lingering effects of Electro's electrifying onslaught. The air was charged with the scent of ozone as you pressed on, determination overshadowing the lingering discomfort.

Green Goblin's aerial acrobatics brought chaos to the skies. Pumpkin bombs detonated in vibrant bursts, creating chaotic shockwaves. Attempting to evade the explosions, you found yourself caught in the concussive force of one. The impact sent you spiraling through the air, resulting in a harsh collision with a building. The blunt force trauma reverberated through your shoulder, a sharp pain flaring up as you grappled with the dizziness from the impact.

The mechanical precision of Doctor Octopus's tentacles presented a relentless challenge. With each strike, your reflexes were put to the test. A miscalculated evasion resulted in a laceration across your side as one of the metallic appendages slashed through your suit. Blood welled from the wound, staining the fabric and adding an additional layer of urgency to the battle. The pain, both sharp and throbbing, became a constant reminder of the ongoing struggle.

Vulture's aerial assaults were a relentless dance in the night sky. His talons sliced through the air with deadly accuracy, and despite your nimble evasions, a glancing blow left a series of shallow but stinging cuts across your forearm. The pain served as a stark reminder of the ever-present danger, and the persistent ache only fueled your determination to prevail.

The symphony of chaos reached its crescendo as the Sinister Six's coordinated attacks intensified. Rhino's charges became more unpredictable, Electro's lightning strikes more relentless, and Green Goblin's aerial bombardment more calculated. Doctor Octopus's tentacles lashed out with increased ferocity, and Vulture's talons sought vulnerable points with a newfound precision.

Despite the relentless onslaught, you pressed on with a resilience born from the responsibility of being a hero. Your suit, adorned with tears and scorch marks, bore witness to the intense battle. Each injury sustained became a testament to the unyielding spirit that defined a spider-hero. As you swung through the cityscape, dodging attacks and countering with acrobatic finesse, the adrenaline-fueled dance continued.

In the midst of the chaos, LYLA's voice echoed through your earpiece, "Y/N, emergency transport initiated."

A blinding light enveloped you, and the sounds of battle faded. The world spun, and for a moment, all you could see were flashes of E-928's Nueva York. The pain lingered, a constant reminder of the intense battle you had just endured.

The dimly lit room in Miguel's apartment felt like a sanctuary, a brief respite from the chaos. The pain from the injuries sustained in the fight throbbed, but it was nothing compared to the emotional turmoil that lingered.

Barely conscious, you found yourself on the living room floor, the room spinning. The portal's residual energy still crackled in the air as you struggled to sit up. Miguel's urgent voice cut through the haze, a distant echo that seemed to reach you from a world away.

"Y/N? What happened?"

You tried to speak, but the words came out as a hoarse whisper. Miguel rushed to your side, his hands gentle as he helped you sit up. The injuries from the battle were evident, but beneath the physical pain, there was a rawness, an emotional vulnerability that lingered in the air.

The rooftop argument, the Sinister Six's onslaught, and the whirlwind transition between universes all converged in this moment. The unspoken emotions that had fueled your movements in the fight were now laid bare, a complex tapestry woven with threads of frustration, longing, and a shared history.

The dimly lit room in Miguel's apartment offered a brief respite from the chaos. As Miguel tended to your injuries, the room filled with a quiet intensity. The sounds of the city outside seemed distant, as if the world had paused to give you both a moment to navigate the complexities of your connection.

Miguel worked diligently, his hands moving with a careful precision. The soft glow of the apartment's lights highlighted the concern etched into his features. The rawness of the emotional exchange on the rooftop lingered, creating a charged atmosphere that neither of you could easily dispel.

Silence hung in the air, thick with unspoken words. You watched Miguel's focused expression, his eyes reflecting a mixture of regret and understanding. It was a tender moment, a tableau of vulnerability that marked a turning point in your relationship.

"I didn't mean for it to get so out of hand," Miguel finally spoke, breaking the quiet. "I just worry about you, Y/N. You mean a lot to me."

You met his gaze, recognizing the sincerity in his eyes. "I know you worry, Miguel. But I need you to trust me. I can't have someone always trying to protect me. I need room to be my own hero."

Miguel nodded, his expression a blend of understanding and regret. "I'll try to give you that space. I just... I can't bear the thought of losing you."

His admission pulled at your heartstrings, and you reached out, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "I'm not going anywhere, Miguel. We'll figure this out."

As the night wore on, the apartment became a sanctuary where both physical and emotional wounds were tended to. The conversation shifted to lighter topics, an unspoken agreement to leave the intensity of the rooftop argument behind.

The dim light of the apartment cast a warm glow, creating an intimate setting that seemed to encourage the unfolding of unspoken emotions. The city outside continued its rhythmic hum, a backdrop to the nuanced dance of emotions within the room.

Miguel fetched a first aid kit, and you shared stories from your respective universes, finding solace in the familiarity of each other's experiences. The wounds on your shoulder and side were carefully cleaned and bandaged, the physical act of healing mirroring the emotional mending taking place.

In the quiet lull between conversations, Miguel's gaze lingered on you. There was a depth to his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the uncharted territory your relationship had entered. It was a delicate dance, an exploration of emotions that left both of you vulnerable yet strangely connected.

The city outside gradually transitioned from the vibrant lights of night to the muted hues of predawn. The air in the apartment shifted, carrying with it the promise of a new day and the potential for a transformed understanding between you and Miguel.

As dawn approached, Miguel stood and stretched, a yawn escaping him. "You should get some rest," he suggested, a genuine concern evident in his voice.

You nodded, realizing the toll the night had taken on your body. The events, from the rooftop argument to the intense battle against the Sinister Six, had left you physically and emotionally drained. The makeshift bed Miguel arranged on the couch offered a welcome respite.

As you settled into a restless sleep, the events of the night played out in fragmented dreams. Images of swinging between buildings, the Sinister Six's menacing laughter, and Miguel's concerned gaze blended together, creating a surreal dreamscape.

In the quiet of the apartment, Miguel remained vigilant. He couldn't shake the worry that lingered, the weight of the responsibility he felt for your safety. Restlessly, he paced the room, glancing at the sleeping form on the couch with a mix of concern and something deeper, an unspoken acknowledgment of the emotions that lingered between you.

The sun began to cast its warm glow through the apartment's windows, signaling the arrival of a new day. The city outside came alive with the sounds of waking life. Miguel took a moment to watch the sunrise, the hues of orange and pink painting the sky.

As you stirred from your sleep, Miguel turned to you, a soft smile playing on his lips. "How are you feeling?" he asked, genuine concern etched on his face.

You stretched, wincing slightly from the residual soreness. "Better, considering the night I've had. Thanks for taking care of me, Miguel."

His gaze softened, and he sat beside you. "Always," he replied, a simple word laden with unspoken promises.

The morning unfolded with a quiet ease. Miguel prepared a simple breakfast, and you shared a meal that felt oddly intimate, a continuation of the uncharted emotional territory you both found yourselves navigating.

As the day progressed, the initial awkwardness between you and Miguel began to dissipate. The rooftop argument, the intense battle, and the subsequent healing had forged a deeper connection, a shared understanding that transcended the boundaries of friendship.

Miguel took you on a tour of the mirrored universe's Nueva York, pointing out landmarks and sharing anecdotes. The city, bathed in the morning light, felt like a canvas ready to be explored. The unspoken tensions of the previous night slowly gave way to a newfound camaraderie, a blend of shared experiences and a mutual respect for each other's strengths and vulnerabilities.

In the afternoon, you found yourselves on another rooftop, the cityscape sprawling below. The air was charged with a different energy, one that spoke of second chances and the resilience of connections that refused to be easily severed.

"I'm sorry for being overbearing," Miguel admitted, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "I just... I can't help but worry about you. It's a part of who I am."

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "I appreciate your concern, Miguel. I know it comes from a good place. But we need to find a balance, a middle ground where I can be my own hero, and you can still be there for me."

He met your gaze, a silent understanding passing between you. The city sprawled beneath, a living, breathing entity that seemed to reflect the evolving dynamics of your relationship.

As the day turned to evening, you and Miguel found yourselves back in the apartment. The unspoken tension from the previous night had been replaced with a sense of ease. Miguel, ever the attentive host, prepared a simple dinner, and you shared a meal that felt more like a celebration of newfound understanding.

The evening unfolded with laughter and shared stories. The weight of unspoken emotions had lifted, leaving behind a sense of acceptance and a willingness to embrace the complexities of your connection. Miguel's overprotective tendencies were still there, but tempered with a newfound awareness of your need for independence.

As night fell, Miguel accompanied you to the portal that would take you back to your universe. Nueva York glittered below, a testament to the resilience of both the city and the connections forged within it.

"I'll see you around, Miguel," you said, a soft smile playing on your lips.

He nodded, his gaze lingering. "Take care, Y/N. And remember, I'm here if you need me."

With a final wave, you stepped through the portal, leaving behind E-928 and the complexities of the night that had brought you to Miguel's doorstep. The familiar sights of your own universe greeted you, and you swung through the city with a newfound sense of balance.

Back in Miguel's apartment, he stood alone, watching the portal close. The echoes of your laughter and the shared moments lingered in the air. The uncharted territory of emotions had been navigated, and the connection between you and Miguel, though complex, remained unbroken.

The city outside continued its rhythmic hum, a backdrop to the ever-unfolding stories of heroes and the bonds that tied them together. In the quiet of his apartment, Miguel O'Hara, the Spider-Man of the mirrored universe, knew that some connections were too strong to be easily untangled, and that the threads of friendship and something more would continue to weave their way through the tapestry of his life.

thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy!

#across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x spiderwoman!reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv #spiderman 2099

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astroyongie · 3 days

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NCT 127 June Reading 2024

Note: please take it with a grain of salt

Taeil

love: it seems like he is still dating the same person as ever, but things are again complicated. Taeil have been a little bit more protective over his finances and not “pampering” his partner as much which has made them mad

career: Taeil has some ideas of what he wants to do after his military service. Maybe we will finally have some type of solo music from his side. he has also been quite protected lately

self: things are okay with him, his health is strong and he has been leading the group into a better communication overall

Johnny

love: This man is finally in a relationship (this seems to be an idol but i am not 100% sure). Also their relationship havent started long ago, probably around the end of April and the beginning of may which makes him being on a honeymoon. things are doing well for him!

career: he has been doubting himself a lot lately, especially when it comes to his capacities of being an idol also because there’s a few things that have scared him and that provoked a lot of emotional turmoil since it could have impacted his idol image. Johnny is also having some type of blockages with his career

self: he is going through a lot of indecisions, a lot of thoughts a lot of confusion about why life does certain things to him. he feels like he has been screwed around and that life isn't fair to him

Taeyong

love: Taeyong is also in a relationship at the moment. Despite everything he was able to make everything official before his departure to the military service. thighs are okay for him and this relationship is something that he has been manifesting for so long, so he is happy

career: i couldn't get much about his career, since at the moment everything is on hold

self: he has been a little bit “foolish” lately, making decisions without thinking though and overall doing things that are perceived by others are very word and out of reality

Yuta

love: he has been dating the same person since april and everything seems to be doing well. Yuta is very curious about them and everyday is a day where he learns new things and where he is stimulated. healthy relationship so far

career: i believe that Yuta was some serious issues with either the ceo of SM either his sponsor, because there’s a heavy masculine energy around him that has been mistreating him and Yuta is reaching his limit

self: he has been distracted lately, more lazy and overall not so much with his head on what matters. yuta has slowly become more apathetic form things in general

Doyoung

love: Doyoung is dating at the moment, although the relationship feels quite rush at the moment because they had a huge argument that almost made them split apart. he still has things on his throat that he wishes to say but he doesn't

career: lately, he has been more on the introverted side. he doesn't spend time with his members nor does he want to be associated with people from sm or his group for reasons that are mostly personal to him. he also wants to be more respected there

self: he hasn't been play lately, and although he receives some support from people outside, he has been ignoring them as much as he can

Jaehyun

love: HE IS DATING!! pack it up, jaehyun is dating and actually for now the relationship is serious and balanced !! i don't have much information about it

career: he is a little tired of the image he has. Because that image his fans have of him, does not allow him to be his true self. in the past years that didn't brothers him, but now as he grows older and his career is fixated, he is getting bored of it

self: he is lost in his emotional turmoil. I believe that doyoung at the moment is just living his life aimlessly without much thought. this is quite sad, as i feel like he has lost his spark as well

Jungwoo

love: his love life is complicated. He is dating but this person wants things that he cannot give and also because they have way too much influence on him. so he just follows that without putting his own needs in the relationship

career: some complications but overall he is okay. He just needs to be careful with the type of image he gives to others outside his idol image. because it can rub the wrong people in the wrong ways

self: I am worried about the type of lifestyle he has been living. since these things could potentially have a bad impact on his health in the future. Jungwoo isn't exactly very conscious of the things he does

Mark

love: I believe that Mark is in a relationship with someone else (not his idol ex) and that he is happy with this person but he is still.. well a little bit scared due to how his past relationship ended

career: he isn't really okay with everything that has been happening. mark feels like the company gives him way too much to do and he often has to sacrifice projects to due others, because his schedule is too tight. he wishes to have a little more freedom to choose instead of allowing the company to take decisions for him

self: he is okay, he has just been very anxious lately because of some things he has no control over. the fact that he cannot control these is what makes him anxious. But other than that, he is okay

Haechan

love: he is in a relationship at the moment, but he feels.. well bored? as if this relationships isn't bringing him any pleasure or contentment and he is just in there because he doesn't want to be alone

career: Haechan is rather satisfied with his career and how things are going. he has a good relationship with everyone he works it and honestly it feels like he does his job because he likes t and has fun

self: lately it has been complicated with him. Haechan still uses his unhealthy coping mechanism whenever he's having a hard time. and lately, well he has been overall struggling with his mental health

#NCT 127 #NCT 127 astrology #NCT 127 headcanons #NCT 127 imagines #NCT 127 scenarios #NCT 127 reaction #NCT 127 reading #NCT 127 tarot

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gancegancerevo · 27 days

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Zwillingstürme im Herbst Thoughts

ZT to me, is a story of endings. Not just the factual endings of eras, Arts, and songs. But also the great question of "What happens after the end?"

Each major character faces an ending in this story. Leithanien faces the end of both the Kaiserinnen and the truest finale of the Witch King. The Liches end their stay in the country. Viviana comes to terms with her Leithanien heritage, Ebenholz frees himself from all of his demons, and Arturia, well, we'll get to Arturia.

One of the most notable things is how this story treats hope and the indomitable human spirit. Unlike other stories, it does not praise humanity and treat them as some unstoppable limitless force by virtue of their emotions. Instead, it takes a very nuanced approach that's informed by how powerless these characters can actually get. Sure they can charge forward towards their goals but they'll still die and they'll still be faced with darkness and regrets. Even still, we should embrace our emotions and the turmoil they bring.

The Genesis Horn and Kagenreich are such interesting ideas but it can feel weird that much of the climax is emotional conflicts made manifest. Viviana's is the most obvious. The constant doors to possible new lives culminating in her real one. She comes to let go of the past and stand for herself which is nice. It's also nice that it was Margaret's light that helped her fight back the darkness. An exquisite call-back to the Radiant Knight.

Ebenholz helped to paint a very unique lesson in my opinion. That suffering doesn't NEED meaning. Even after promising Kreide that he'd live and fight fate, he's still plagued by headaches and Witch King Remnants. The revelation that whatever was in his head, the Voice of Mundane, was just a mundane voice upends many of the things we've (us and Ebenholz) assumed about his life. That his suffering was tied to the Witch King and that his conflict would culminate in a big fight against the man whose shadow terrorized him. Instead they have a heart to heart and the Witch King challenges him to look back on his life and realize that "the night itself is meaningless." It is totally fine to have a terrible thing just be a terrible thing and moving on doesn't have to involve a great trials to overcome, sometimes your enemies kill themselves and you just walk away.

Arturia is the most interesting but I'm afraid I can't do her full arc justice. In contrast to his accommodating spin with Ebenholz, the Witch King challenges Arturia at every turn, questioning her motive and why she wants what she does. It comes to a head when he forcefully dives into her and sees that there is only one thing that stirred her own emotions. Everything else is a mirror of someone else. He ultimately gives her the answer she's looking for and the natural doubt that comes when the answer she found didn't meet her expectations. But her bouncing back as chaos descended was beautiful and I might reread this and Hortus just to really grasp her character.

Cora and Brandt, Hildegard and Lisellote (no idea how to, spell the Kaserinnen's surnames), Michel, Lessing, and the Liches. All sorts of stories come to a close as new beginnings emerge. And the most troublesome of them is definitely the makings of the newest source of conflict: the Disaster, the encroaching of chaos upon reality and the return of the supposed Creator.

It's quite likely that that may be the angle of the next major story arc, especially with the role Nearl's light played and the fact that Laterano is trying so hard to unite the nations.

This event was great and I recommend it. Not sure if I have any major notes or ideas to share but I really liked it.

One last thing: seems people are kinda wary of Lisellote, the Eternal Grace. I love it when the supposedly fluffier one has the greater potential of evil

#I want to be accurate but damn this German is kicking my ass #arknights event #arknights #arknights leithanien #ebenholz #viviana #arknights arturia #arturia giallo

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grimalkinmessor · 4 months

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The thing about Age Swap AU that I really like is the fact that both Mob and Reigen are inherently so much more unstable.

On Reigen's end, most of it is from the fact that he's a kid—he doesn't have the same amount of emotional intelligence because he has less experience overall, and the fact that his relationship with his parents isn't,,,,great, even in a canon setting. A boy still mucking around in the trenches of parental abuse/neglect is always going to be more rickety emotionally and mentally than a grown man who's been given years to heal and distance himself from it.

And then there's Mob. Mob is a bit more a wild card in this area, just because without Reigen his childhood is more or less an unknown. Did Mogami find him? Would it have made him crueller if Mogami mentored him instead? What about Claw? Did they take him in? Is he still with them, did they fall, does he regret it? Is he jaded or riddled with guilt or stuffed so far back in his shell that it takes a little blond boy wielding a huge emotional and verbal hammer to start breaking through it? Either way, I definitely don't see him being as emotionally stable as canon Mob. He likely hasn't reconciled with Shigeo, he probably never truly accepted his powers, and thus has the emotional maturity of a ten year old—Reigen still beats him on this. Mob's only point of positive advice would've been Ritsu, and that's....I mean, it's Ritsu. He hasn't had any significant good influences in his life so he absolutely struggles on how to be one himself.

The potential for these two to be codependent is SO much higher and I love it. Unhealthy dynamics are my absolute JAM (one of the reasons I have this animatic rotating in my head at top speeds 24/7 365) so the inherent prickliness of whatever Wrongness™ these two have going on just. has me. Reigen clings because it's all he knows how to do—even if Mob banishes him from the office, he's a persistent kid that hasn't learned you shouldn't chase after moody grown men with emotions so repressed it manifests as a literal eldritch alter with no morals to curb its desires. And Mob has had to go even longer alone in this sort of universe than ever, and Reigen is likely the only person who's never been afraid of him; he's latching onto that kid like bear trap and never letting go. He's still tenderhearted, but it's plagued with years and years of loneliness and inner turmoil that he's had no one around to soothe; he's over a decade too late for 'healthy'. Not that Reigen minds <3

#feral about them #age swap au #mobrei #reimob #mob psycho 100 #reigen arataka #mob #kageyama shigeo #grown up reigen at least has the emotional maturity and common sense to know how to fix his fuck ups with mob #grown up mob....would NOT have that #and kid reigen likely wouldnt have anyone telling him that hes inherently worth something #canon mob has ritsu and his absent-minded but well meaning parents and even the telepathy club/bic #tiny reigen probably has his sister and thats it #and even then #you couldnt beat that kid off mob with a stick #and ritsu would probably know. hes tried.#it doesnt help that mob has subconciously psychically glued reigen to his ribs #theyre soooo unwell your honor 💕💕

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fafnir19 · 5 months

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Doll-boy

The Okavango Delta shimmered under the scorching African sun, as Eva and her gay friend, Leander, embarked on their expedition through the untamed wilderness. With Leander's striking blue eyes and tousled blond locks, and Eva's fiery determination, they made an enchanting pair.

Despite their captivating allure, Leander's ongoing quest for a boyfriend left him feeling despondent. "I wish a man would finally be interested in me," Leander sighed. "You just have to make a little more effort, you're actually a pretty handsome guy!" Eva encouraged with a playful grin. However, Leander seemed more inclined to wallow in his misery than take the initiative in finding a partner. In a remote village along the Okavango, Eva and Leander brightened the children's day by distributing toys, sharing joy wherever they ventured.

It was during this charitable act that Eva encountered the village witch. Sharing her concern for Leander's lack of confidence, Eva confided in the enigmatic woman. Offering a wry smile, the witch suggested a voodoo doll to imbue Leander with a touch of mischief. "With the right ingredients, I can craft a doll to bring out the best in him," she mused, tapping her lips with a long, gnarled finger. Fueled by a mischievous glint in her eyes, Eva eagerly agreed. "This could be just the thing to boost Leander's confidence!" With a lock of Leander's hair and a Ken Doll initially meant for the village's children, the witch crafted a doll with mischievous intent.

Back home, Eva surreptitiously placed the doll in a toy gym, hoping to facilitate Leander's transformation unwittingly. Little did he know, the voodoo doll had begun working its magic on him. Leander found himself irresistibly drawn to the gym, with each visit refining his physique until he mirrored the Ken doll.

"Hey, Eva, have you noticed anything different about me lately?" Leander inquired, a furrow creasing his brow as he peered at his reflection in the mirror. "Hmm, now that you mention it, your physique does seem more defined," Eva observed, a mischievous smile dancing on her lips. As time passed, Leander's grooming habits evolved, due to regular trips of the voodoo doll to the toy beauty salon. It ignited Leander's penchant for regular waxing and visits to the barber and it further transforms his appearance. "I've never felt more confident and fresh," Leander remarked, running a hand through his flawlessly styled hair. Unbeknownst to Leander, Eva continued to make subtle alterations to the doll, each change manifesting in ways he couldn't comprehend. Mirroring the doll's evolving style, he transitioned from casual attire to sophisticated tailored suits, emanating an aura of refined elegance. Eva watched from a distance with quiet amusement.

However, deep down Leander was affected by these changes. “It's like I'm becoming someone I'm not,” Leander confessed to Eva one evening with a hint of uncertainty. “I don't know if it's really me or the influence of some strange force that I can't grasp.” As the elegant tailored suits replaced his casual clothes, Leander's inner turmoil became palpable. "I feel like I'm losing touch with myself," he admitted, eyes clouded with uncertainty as he stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the lapels of his new suit. “I don’t recognize the person looking at me.” Eva listened intently, her heart filled with concern for her friend's inner struggle. She knew that while the external transformation was remarkable, the emotional toll it took on Leander was a high price. She tried to reassure him: “Inside you are still the same person, no matter how your appearance changes. I will always be there for you no matter what.” Despite Eva's comforting words, Leander's unease remained, gnawing at his core as he dealt with the whirlwind of changes that was rapidly transforming his life.

As he adjusted to his newfound size, Leander felt a growing disconnect between the person he was becoming and the person he had always been, a tug of war between embracing the appeal of sophistication and being true to himself. And In the midst of this inner conflict, his heart tugged at him and resonated with the quiet longing for authenticity amidst the glamour.

As an additional touch, Eva adorned the doll in silk underwear, a devious addition that seemed to excite Leander with each wear. "I can't explain it, but I feel so seductive and confident in these silk boxers - and so overwhelmingly horny," Leander confessed, grappling with the growing desires he felt. He tried to avoid donning the silk boxers but he couldn't resist the power that forced him to wear it. Initially his constant horniness was a torture, but gradually it became a part of his newfound persona, exuding charm, elegance and an aura of desire at every turn.

Eva discovered that she had unintentionally fallen in love with the Leander she had crafted, captivated by the unintended allure she had imbued him with. Despite her growing feelings, she couldn't deny the sinister nature of her actions.

As time passed, Leander's enchantment grew, his newfound charm and sophistication captivating those around him. Meanwhile, Eva found herself drawn to the very persona she had unwittingly created. Unable to resist any longer, she longed for a single date with gay Leander, even though she knew her actions were deceitful. Taking some of her own hair and affixing it onto a Barbie doll, Eva placed it along with the voodoo doll at a table with candles in her dollhouse. Shortly after, Leander extended an invitation for a date. The evening arrived, and Leander took Eva to a charming bistro. The ambience was warm and inviting, with soft candlelight casting a flattering glow over the couple.

As they delved into conversation, a wave of warmth washed over Eva, her conflicted feelings stirring beneath the surface. Their witty banter and shared laughter filled the air, punctuated by affectionate glances and lingering touches. In that moment, Eva realized the depth of her feelings for Leander, knowing that toying with his love and orientation was wrong. As they parted ways, the energy between them hung in the air, charged with unspoken words and unacknowledged desires. Over the next few weeks, Eva found it difficult to see Leander in the city's gay clubs because she was so in love with him.

One day, John, Eva's brother, paid her a visit, accompanied by his daughter, Emily. As Eva engaged in conversation with John, Emily roamed freely around the apartment, her curious gaze settling on the voodoo doll and the Barbie doll adorned with Eva's hair. With a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, Emily couldn't resist incorporating the dolls into her games, unaware of the repercussions her actions would invoke. First, she dressed the voodoo doll in soccer attire, believing it to be a suitable choice for a boy, before steering it towards tender moments with the Barbie, mirroring the affectionate interactions she had observed between her parents. She then playfully maneuvered the voodoo doll in a toy convertible, setting off a sequence of unforeseen events.

One fateful day, Leander found himself engaging in a conversation about soccer, a subject he had previously detested. Surprisingly, he agreed to join in a game of soccer with some acquaintances, igniting an unanticipated passion for the sport. Perplexed by his newfound enjoyment, he pondered why he had dismissed the activity in the past.

As the day unfolded, Leander visited Eva to unwind. They settled onto her couch, drawn together by the familiarity of their routine. In a fleeting moment of unspoken tension, their eyes met, igniting a dormant passion that surged between them. The magnetic attraction led to an intimate and electrifying kiss, an unexplored territory that set off an unexpected chain of events. "I've never felt like this before," Leander confessed, his voice tinged with a newfound desire, their shared encounter eliciting a cascade of uninhibited passion. The room echoed with ecstatic pleas and fervent moans as Leander climaxed.

In that unforgettable moment, the bond between Leander and the voodoo doll fractured, captivating in fiery tendrils of iridescent sparkles. The once-gay Leander was now straight as an arrow, a transformation kindled by the unseen influence of the voodoo doll and Emily's innocent actions.

Embracing his newfound heterosexuality, Leander delved into a world of allure and grandiosity, captivating all those around him. His once unwavering attraction to men had transformed into a powerful desire for the company of women, leaving him awestruck and curious. "I never thought I'd feel this way about women," Leander admitted to a confidante, his voice filled with a combination of wonder and yearning. "It's like a whole new world has opened up to me, and I'm the prince in this world!" His presence exuded an air of snobbish sophistication and he became the epitome of shallow vanity.

Eva found herself hopelessly infatuated with the man she had shaped, yet realized that she had become an outsider in his newfound world. Leander's gaze no longer held warmth or closeness when it met Eva's, his once-kindhearted nature eclipsed by a veneer of aloofness and disdain. "Hmm, I think it's time for a change in my social circle, Eva is just too common and boring," Leander remarked, his voice laced with an air of superiority that pierced Eva's heart. With a heavy heart, she acknowledged that she was no longer part of Leander's stratosphere. With her heart in tatters, she made the painful decision to step away. Meanwhile, Leander found himself irresistibly drawn to the enigmatic women he encountered, his newfound ardor for their company marking a profound shift in his perspective. As he immerse himself in his new life, he realized that he had become the object of affection and envy, basking in the adulation and allure he had longed for.

This story was inspired by an idea of @objectifiedhimbo

#personality change #musclegrowth #gay to straight #unconscious #mind control #voodoo

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dev-mars · 2 months

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MCD Little Details and Plot Points I Forgot pt. 2

Season one, around episode 84 to 94?

(basically my thoughts and notes about the series)

• Garroth says that he’s feels as though Laurance is like his brother and he was never able to experience this type of relationship with his own brothers (although he only mentions Zane so it makes me wonder if Jess hadn’t made Vylad his brother yet, or if talking about Vylad is too painful for Garroth.)

• Also, in my headcanon I feel like Garroth is developing feelings for Laurance and he tries to rationalize it as brotherhood. I feel like the monarchy that O’Kasis basically is, most likely prioritizes continuing the bloodline. Maybe this just started as a way of continuing Esmund’s legacy/power but as O’kasis became more powerful and corrupt it became more about creating dynasty that wouldn’t end. So gay relationships are probably frowned upon and personally I feel like at this point Garroth hadn’t considered being in relationship with a man and wasn’t fully aware it was an option. For me, I headcanon him as bisexual so possibly Garroth knew he was attracted to women and never thought more about his sexuality choosing to ignore any other feelings he had for anyone other than women.

• Anyway, Garroth then states that he hates seeing Laurance in pain from the Hayden’s death and feels like it might be worse than when he’s a shadow knight. Aphmau, of course, disagrees with this.

• Laurance struggling with his emotions while he thinks Hayden is dead shows the mental turmoil he’s experiencing as he balances his emotions as shadow knight.

• Aphmau inspects the crime scene so Laurance doesn’t have to see it. :((

• Laurance accidentally calls Aph “love” when he was exhausted. :((

• Laurance is able to sense when Aph is in danger? It happens twice the first time when they save Candenza and then when Aph is attacked by Aaron. It seems he just knows something is wrong and then just shows up.

Which is interesting considering that he and Aph seem to just have a connection since he became a shadow knight. Honestly, Laurance might’ve had some sort of untapped magicks before he was turned. Like when Laurance was stuck in the nether his image or consciousness was projected into the overworld and caused Levin to levitate/walk. That seems to be abnormal for when someone becomes a shadow knight. Maybe through coping with his transformation Laurance unknowingly manifested a bond/connection to Aphmau with whatever magical capacity he had.

Or, the bond was created simply because Aph is the person who Laurance must kill in order to become a fully fledged shadow knight. So Laurance then has a heightened sense of Aphmau’s status and location. Which, ironically, serves Laurance in being a better protector of Aph.

Ooor, even simpler, Laurance just has heightened senses in general and he’s always making sure Aph is alright using them and the Levin incident earlier in the season is irrelevant.

• Aphmau and Laurance have that hug moment in the woods outside of Phoenix Drop where he asks to always be by Aphmau’s side and earlier asks to keep Cadenza’s gift a secret.

• Aphmau chooses to keep both of these things a secret from Garroth, which he probably realizes he’s not being told everything that happened on the trip. Then Laurance wears a helmet for a couple days out of embarrassment. So, Garroth most likely thinks more happened between them than actually did. His jealousy probably started to grow more from this trip and he started feeling like he was being left out.

• Laurance asks Cadenza to watch over Garroth when they think he’s sick. :((((

• Laurance immediately steps up as head guard when everyone thinks Garroth is sick and makes sure everything is okay.

• Dante eats breakfast with Zoey and the kids and that’s the first time he’s been in her house. (I’m surprised how short of a time Dante has been in the series by the time we reach the end of season one, like as a kid I remember it being so much longer than it actually was.)

• Aaron second act as a character in the series is to threaten Aphmau and the village. (I’m so sorry to the Aaron stans out there but I can’t stand his ass and I can see the vision Jess was trying to go for but his character development was just everyone outside of him acting out of character).

Like I love a good “enemies to lovers” trope but Aaron pointing a sword to Aphmau’s throat wasn’t that. When something like that usually happens it’s like omg they have so much tension and they cross swords a couple times then they have dramatic banter that lets you feel that they’re is something more to their relationship than “enemies.”

Instead, we have Aaron knocking Aphmau over then pointing a sword to her throat. Then he threatens to kill her because he assumes without knowing her that she’s a selfish lord and only lets her live because she also hates Zane. But, he forces Aphmau to not tell anyone he’s there or else she’ll be putting her entire village in danger. HE IS QUITE LITERALLY CAMPED A SHORT WALK FROM APHMAU’S HOUSE WHERE SHE AND HER CHILDREN SLEEP EVERY NIGHT. That’s awful, man. Jess acts this out by constantly touching her throat so it’s kind of reasonable to assume that if they weren’t blocks the sword was probably directly pressed to Aphmau’s neck. Like I know, Aaron really isn’t that bad and he wasn’t talking about HIM hurting the village. He was actually talking about other people who after the pendent and this would put the village in danger. But, as the viewer and someone who’s seen the series before I have that knowledge as an outsider. While Aphmau in that scene only has the knowledge that if she’s says something wrong or lets other people know he’s here it will put everyone in danger.

Like Laurance comes up to Aph immediately after it happens because he felt she was in danger. He says she looks pale, distressed, and asks her if she’s been crying!!! Aphmau was terrified for her safety. That’s not a good beginning to a romance in my book! If the scene was framed differently where Aph had some autonomy in that scene like maybe she defends herself from Aaron then they begrudgingly come to agreement that he can stay that would be different. But instead he demands that Aph doesn’t tells anyone or else she’s in danger along with her loved ones. Anyway, I dislike this scene and Jess probably would have retconned it if she got to that point in Rebirth.

• Moving on! Laurance checks her temperature and makes sure she’s okay. He even tells her that he can carry her home if she’s too tired. Then he even takes the wood that she gathered and finishes the task for her so she can go home to her boys!

• Then, Malachi immediately blows up and Zoey cries because she feels like she’s a bad mom (even though she’s quite literally raising Aph’s kids for her but Zoey’s got trauma so I get it.) Aphmau reminds her that’s she apart of the family and isn’t upset with her. I love them so much!

#aphmau #aphmau mcd #minecraft diaries #garrence #garmau #garroth ro'meave #mcd rewrite #larmau #laurance zvahl #mcd garroth #mcd headcanons

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