Tumgik
#wrote this a while ago and thought now would be a good time to post it lol
sun stars moon and mars
few eyes have seen more than ours
who’s the next to join the sky
we have watched as they all die
our eyes don’t tire
from watching the fights
and taking in the sights 
of blood and fire
sun stars moon and mars
fragments taken from within their scars
a winter that didn’t melt into spring 
until the hand was without the king
canary falls, strike it down 
allies blessed by widow to win
friends spill blood of their loyal kin 
what will you do to wear our crown
there’s plenty of space but is there time
to join the sky, to complete the rhyme
blessings and curses, we made them fall
wake up, rub your eyes
it’s only a game after all
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spacelazarwolf · 5 months
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apparently a bunch of ppl on social media are trying to call for a boycott of rick riordan because of this statement in a blog post:
Becky and I are just back from a busy weekend with events at the Boston Book Festival and New York Comic-Con.
Before I get into that, however, some words to acknowledge the ongoing horrors in Israel and Gaza. As many of you may know, I am no longer on social media. My accounts post only updates on my books and related projects. I do not read posts, reply to posts, or share my thoughts about world events on those forums. That doesn’t mean I don’t have strong feelings and reactions. It means I am offline as completely as possible, except for the occasional blog post like this one.
I will say this: Over the last eighteen years, I have received many fan letters from young readers, both Israeli and Palestinian, who often told me that my books helped them escape the fear, grief and anxiety they were dealing with at the time. Some had lost family members to violence. Some were writing while in the distance they could hear explosions, gunfire, and the launching of rockets. They used my books as a way to escape into another world, where the monsters were fictional, and where demigods usually saved the day. While I am always glad that my books can help young readers find joy during difficult times, my heart breaks every time I hear about the things they have to deal with. I am grief-stricken by the horrific events now unfolding, especially because I know that they are part of a long historic pattern that has been robbing too many children of their childhood and perpetuating hatred for far too long.
I am also quite aware that when anyone, myself included, tries to speak about this issue, the reader is waiting to pounce, thinking, “Yes, but whose side are you on?” That is exactly the wrong question. If there are two sides to this issue, those sides are not Palestinian/Israeli or Muslim/Jewish. The two sides are humanitarian and dehumanizing. Dehumanizing has a long evil history. It is appealing and easy to buy into, because humans are tribal animals. We are hardwired to think in terms of ‘us’ versus ‘them.’ We are the real humans, the good guys, the ones with God on our side. Those other people are evil monsters who don’t deserve empathy. Hate mongers have thrived on dehumanizing for as long as there have been humans. It provides them with a purpose, a way to rally support, power, and scapegoats. It is easy to point to atrocities committed by our enemies, while justifying or minimizing the atrocities committed by ourselves or our allies.
Humanitarianism is a much harder sell. It requires us to empathize, to see other groups of people as equally deserving of dignity and quality of life. It requires not always putting ourselves and our needs first. But in the long run, humanitarianism is our only hope. If violence could end violence, if we could put an end to “those other people” once and for all, human history would read very differently than it does.
So yes, I am appalled by the Hamas attacks on Israeli civilians. I am appalled by the suffering of Palestinian civilians in Gaza. Both things can be true. Both things must be true. My thoughts are with all the people who have died, who have lost loved ones, who have had their worlds and their lives shattered, especially the children. More death and violence will not break this cycle, which has been going on for generations. There is no military solution. Even since I first wrote the post, only twenty-four hours ago, the Israeli government’s brutal retaliation against the entire population of Gaza has reached genocidal proportions. This is not only an atrocity. It is folly. Answering misery with misery only creates more fertile ground for extremism, dehumanizing the “other side,” letting hate mongers thrive, stay in power, and reduce us all to our most monstrous impulses. The only real solution is treating each other like equally worthy human beings, and negotiating a peace that allows all parties a chance to live in security and dignity, with hopes for a future that does not include bombs and rockets and gunfire. This means security and support for Israel, yes. It also means a secure Palestine which is allowed to get the international aid and recognition it needs to build a viable state.
Do I think that will happen? Unfortunately, no. Humans are simply too selfish, too ready to blame “the other” for all their problems, too ready to dehumanize, though I also believe, perhaps paradoxically, that most people just want to live their lives in peace and have a chance for their children to have a brighter future. The problem is when we don’t allow other people to have those same hopes and dreams — when it becomes a false choice of us versus them.
What can I do? I will continue to write books that I hope will give young readers some joy. I will resist the urge to demonize entire groups of people. I will call for less violence, not more violence. And when asked whose side I am on, I will tell you I am on the side of humanitarianism.
So with that said, I return to the world of books . . .
honestly, if you have a problem with this statement, it’s probably because he’s talking about you. this is exactly what legitimate activists (as in not just random westerners who share social media posts but on-the-ground activists who are doing real work) have been saying for decades. and i think all this really speaks to just how disconnected a lot of westerners who claim to be pro palestinian are from those activists.
if you can’t read a statement that says “i am on the side of humanitarianism and less violence” without immediately jumping to cancel them, you are the problem being discussed in the above statement.
#ip
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confused-pyramid · 1 month
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Breaking Point
pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader
summary: You and Art were hitting partners (and a bit more) in college, so when you run into him a decade later at the U.S. Open, old sparks reignite...
word count: 3.4k
warnings: SMUT, p in v, oral (fem!receiving), slight marking, drinking
a/n: I watched Challengers last night and then wrote this whole thing in one sitting. Nothing in this is really canon other than Art being a major simp lol so no spoilers for the movie! I usually make playlists (or at least find a few songs that get me in the zone) when writing, so I thought I'd start sharing them here too if people are interested!
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You should've known he'd be here. You've been following his career for the last decade since you graduated, and ever since he won Wimbledon last year, he's been tennis royalty, but a small part of you still thought you wouldn't run into him here. At the fucking U.S. Open.
Stanford was a lifetime ago, and you haven't kept in touch with anyone from the college team, but there was always something about Art Donaldson that stuck with you. Ten years later, that hasn't changed.
"It's been so long," he calls out when he spots you from across the practice courts. "I didn't think I'd see you."
You didn't either, and you still haven't decided how you feel about it yet, but when he jogs over to your side, you just shrug. "Guess it's your lucky day."
He smiles, and his teeth glimmer in the bright sunlight. "It certainly is."
The loud thwacks of tennis balls hitting rackets echo around you, but you can't seem to focus on anything but the man standing in front of you. He looks good.
He was beautiful in college too, whether he was training across the net or slipping into your bed, but it feels different now, with so much time apart. He looks like a man now.
"Anyway," Art says, jerking you back to reality. "We should get a drink sometime. To catch up."
He adds the last part almost as an afterthought, but it doesn't escape your notice how his eyes have been trailing up and down your body since he walked over.
A drink could mean almost anything with Art Donaldson, but you're too curious to refuse. "Sure. This weekend, after the semi-finals."
He nods, his eyes glinting with amusement, and you grab your bag from the bench beside you before looping the strap over your shoulder.
You walk off the practice courts after one last glance over your shoulder, and you feel his eyes following along until the doors swing shut behind you.
***
He should've expected this. You were a firecracker in college, and you kept him on his toes every single day you were together, so he really should have known what he was getting into when he met you for drinks that weekend.
Instead, he's one too many beers in, and his buzz is only enhancing the glow of your beauty in the hazy bar light. Your dress isn't even that low cut, but something about the shadows glancing over your strong shoulders reminds him of late nights in the Stanford dorms after a hard practice when there was only one thing he wanted more than sleep.
"You played really well this morning," he says genuinely as he sets his beer back onto the table. "After that first set, Mueller didn't stand a chance."
You flash him a dazzling smile as you shrug, resting your chin on your palm. "I had her after the third game, but thanks. It was a quick match."
Art hasn't taken his eyes off of you since you sat down, and while prolonged eye contact usually makes you nervous, you find that you're actually enjoying the attention quite a bit. Attentiveness was never an issue with him, and you would normally give in to your urges, but there's just too much history with him, and you can't afford to lose focus. Not when the title is so close you can taste it.
"I hear the networks are eyeing you for a commentator post," you say, trying to change the subject.
You trace your finger around the rim of your nearly empty margarita, before lifting it to take a final sip, and you don't miss how his throat bobs as you lick the salt off your lips.
"Uh, yeah," he mumbles, clearing his throat. "It was just some chatter, but I'm not looking to retire anytime soon."
You frown. "Is that right?" He's playing better than ever, but he definitely hasn't been himself out on the court in years.
He glances down, clearly trying to avoid the scrutiny, and when his eyes land on your empty glass, he changes the subject again. "You want another drink?"
You shake your head, knowing that another will lead to a less than fun morning, but he isn't done yet.
"You sure?" His eyes find yours again, and this time the eye contact feels primal. "It doesn't have to be here."
Your eyebrows lift and you tilt your head with a knowing smile. "Where were you thinking?"
"I don't know," he shrugs, before his lips curve up into a cheeky grin. "My room's nice."
You saw it coming from a mile away, but it still pulls a laugh out of you. "Oh, I'm sure it is, but this isn't college anymore, Art. You should get some sleep...focus on your match in the morning."
You push your glass forward and stand up, nodding at him as you turn to leave, but then you see him stand too out of the corner of your eye.
"I'll walk you to your car."
He looks at you with a hint of amusement in his expression, and you can't help but want to play along, even though Art Donaldson was nothing but trouble for you.
You don't respond, instead just stepping out from around the table and walking out the front doors of the bar. You don't have to turn back to know he's right behind you, and when you reach your car, parked in the center of the nearly empty parking lot, you spin around.
He doesn't stop walking until he has you practically boxed in by your driver's side door, his face less than a foot from yours as he tucks his hands into his pockets.
He had pushed his sleeves back at some point in the night, from the humid summer heat of the bar, and you can see the veins on his forearms now, under the dim light of the street lamps.
"This is me," you say jokingly, tipping your chin at your car as he looks at you with an expression you can't distinguish. "I'm good from here."
He doesn't move.
It's not that you expected him to give up so easily; you had just forgotten how persistent he could be.
Art's mouth stretches into a slanted smile. "Do you remember the Davis Invitational? Junior year."
Speaking of his persistence...he had been pursuing you for months, not in any tangible way, but you always knew what he was thinking.
After the invitational, where you and Art had been the respective men's and women's champions, you had gone back to his dorm to celebrate. Three hours and just as many vodka shooters later, he had finally gotten you in his bed. Not that you were complaining.
Art knew his way around your body, and even that first night, he had managed to get you off more times than you can remember.
"What about it?" you shoot back, your eyebrows raising at the insinuation.
"Nothing," he says with a shrug, but you don't miss the humor glinting in his eyes. "You just used to be a lot more fun to celebrate with."
"Fuck you," you spit out, shoving his shoulder harder than you mean to. He barely budges, instead grabbing your hand and tugging you a few inches closer, and suddenly a wave of lust washes over you, making your breath hitch.
You press your thighs together under your dress, hoping he can't feel the heat spreading across your skin, but then his smile turns to a smirk and you know you're done for.
"What do you think?" he whispers, leaning in so close that his lips brush over your earlobe. "Want to celebrate?"
Molten lava pools in your gut and you are only peripherally aware of his hand sliding down your hips to the flowy edge of your dress. His fingers glide over your skin as his hand goes under the loose fabric, before rising up to grab your ass, drawing your hips flush with his.
Your arousal is already starting to soak through your panties, but the feeling of his hard bulge pressed up against you sends you flying back to reality.
You lift your hands to his chest and push him back so that he's a few steps away from you. It's not far enough, but at least you can't feel him from there. "I'm not fucking you, Art."
He shrugs, his smirk only slightly shaken. "Who said anything about fucking? I just wanted to talk."
You huff out a laugh. "You're funny. Besides, I'm too tired for this. I need to rest up before my match."
"What about tomorrow night then?" His lip is still curved up in a smirk, but there's an earnestness in his gaze that surprises you.
"What makes you think you'll still be here tomorrow?"
His mouth spreads into a wide smile. "I always win."
You snort. "Fine. Win your match and we can talk."
You don't miss the grin on his face as you climb into your car and leave.
***
You win your next match in straight sets again, so by the time you're out of the locker room, Art's match is still in play. Driven by a mixture of curiosity and intrigue, you head over to his court and find a seat halfway up the stands.
He has won two of three sets, and he's leading the fourth, so with the prospect of the match ending soon, you use the time to observe him from a different angle.
His form is much better than it was in college, and you've seen him play countless times on TV, but you haven't really let yourself see how good he looks out there. The sinewy muscles rippling in his arms as he lifts them to serve. The rugged sturdiness of his legs as he races back and forth across the court.
You wish you could be down there with him, running your hands over the smooth lines of his abdomen, tasting the drops of sweat as they roll down his body-
The crowd erupts in cheers, and you are thrust back into reality as Art throws his arms into the air with a loud whoop. The scoreboard confirms his victory, and you clap along with the audience as he shakes his opponent's hand and heads over to his chair.
People around you stand up to leave, but you stay in your seat, watching as he grabs his bag and stuffs his rackets inside. When he wipes a towel over his face, his head turns up and his eyes immediately go to you, like he knew you were here the whole time.
Your stomach does an involuntary flip and he flashes his eyebrows at you as you bit the inside of your lip, trying to hold back a smile.
When he ducks back down to grab his things, you stand up quickly to avoid letting him see your blush and follow the rest of the crowd off of the stands.
***
You hear it late that night. Three little raps on your hotel room door, just before midnight.
You're in the finals, and you don't have any friends here to celebrate with, so you were sipping a beer and watching old match recordings when you heard the knock.
There's no one else who would come to see you this late, so you're not surprised when you open the door to find Art, dressed in a tee shirt and comfy-looking pajama pants.
"What are you doing here?" you ask, even though you already know the answer.
Art just looks at you, his pupils already massive. "You said if I win, we could talk." He shrugs. "I won."
"Okay," you concede, opening the door wider to let him in. "Just talking then."
He nods, before following you inside and shutting the door.
"You want anything to drink?" you ask as he trails behind you.
He shakes his head. "I'm good."
You grab your beer bottle from the side table and sit down on the floor, crossing your legs beneath you.
Art sits across from you, his feet in front of him and his elbows on his knees. You were assigned to a modestly sized room, but for someone as tall as him, the space must feel cramped.
"How did the match feel?" you ask, taking a swig of beer.
He thinks for a moment. "It was close at first, but once I shook my legs out, it became a breeze."
"Your legs were never the problem," you say, leveling him with a serious look. "It was always your attitude. Or your confidence."
He frowns, his eyebrows scrunching slightly. "I'm plenty confident."
"You are now," you tell him as you swirl the bottle around in your hand. "You won Wimbledon, you have a reason to be confident."
That makes him smile. "So you're saying my legs are fine."
"Yeah," you say before you can process what you're saying. "You looked good out there."
His smile turns to a smirk so fast it nearly gives you whiplash. "You think I look good?"
You let out an exasperated scoff. "At tennis."
His grin doesn't falter so you roll your eyes at him before lifting the bottle to your lips to take another swig. When you tilt the bottle back down to swallow, his hand reaches forward to take it from you. Your grip on the beer doesn't loosen, so the motion sends you pitching forward.
Your mouth parts with a small yelp as his arm wraps around you, tugging you closer, and before you can process what's happening, his lips are on yours.
If you let yourself think too hard, you would realize that there is way too much shared history and way too much baggage here for this to be a good idea...so that's why you don't.
Instead, you let him pull your body flush against his and when his tongue slides over the seam of your lips, you grant him access immediately. Your shirts come off in quick succession and you gasp as his hands run up and down your body, his strong, calloused fingers grasping at every inch of purchase they can find. Yours reach up to tangle in his messy hair, and when his lips move down your neck, your grip tightens, making him moan quietly against your skin.
Something about being on the floor takes you back to your college days, when you'd both be so worked up after practice that you couldn't even make it to the bed, but that feels too real right now.
"Art," you whisper as he runs his lips and teeth over your neck, before replacing it with his tongue to soothe the quickly blossoming marks. "Art, the bed. Now."
It takes him a second to process your words, but when he does, he loops an arm around your waist and lifts you up and onto the bed in one motion, before pushing you back onto the covers.
By the time your head hits the bed, he's already pulling your shorts and panties down, exposing you to the cool air. His lips follow the path of his hands as they trace up your legs, making you squirm under the hot touch of his rough fingers. He presses wet kisses to the insides of your thighs before spreading them apart and dropping to his knees on the floor in front of you.
"So wet for me," he whispers, almost to himself, before he dives in, his mouth making lewd noises as he licks a thick stripe up your core. "You taste so good."
He lifts your legs over his shoulders to give himself some leverage as he makes a mess between your thighs, licking and sucking your clit into his mouth before fucking you with his tongue.
His grip on your thighs is the only thing keeping you pinned to the bed as you writhe beneath him, trying to not squeeze your legs together from the heat spreading up your core.
His mouth feels amazing and it takes only minutes before you're already nearing the edge. You don't want to come until he is inside of you, though, so you yank his hair, pulling him up and off of you.
He looks up at you through his lashes, and he looks ethereal with his disheveled hair and his chin wet with your slick.
You, on the other hand, look like heaven itself with your eyes half-hooded from pleasure, and he can't help the grin that crosses his face as he licks his lips and climbs over you onto the bed. He lets you taste yourself as he kisses you again, and he lets out a low groan when you bite his lip just hard enough to sting.
"Fuck me," you gasp, your voice too breathy to be actually authoritative. "Fuck me the way I like."
Art grins at your desperate tone and the wild lust in your eyes, committing this image to memory for a later time when you're much further away.
He kicks his pants off as he lifts you both further up the bed, and after covering himself with a condom from his back pocket, he lines himself up and slowly pushes forward.
He gives you a few moments to adjust to his size before slowly pulling out nearly all the way and then thrusting in again.
The slight pain turns to pleasure almost immediately, but he keeps his pace steady so as not to hurt you. You need more right now, so you wrap your legs around him for leverage and flip him over so that you're straddling him.
He groans as his head hits the pillow, and when he tries to sit up, you press your hands to his chest, pushing him down as you ride him. This position gives you a lot more control, and you use it to your advantage as you bounce yourself on his cock, feeling the way he fills you up so fully from this higher angle.
His fingers dig into your hips as he helps lift you up and down, and his eyes are practically feral as he watches the spot where his cock disappears inside of you.
He's the perfect size to fill you up completely, and with each swivel of your hips, you get closer and closer to your climax, which is approaching so fast you can taste it.
You cry out when he hits exactly the right spot deep inside of you, and his eyes fly to yours as your movements start to stutter from your impending release.
Needing to see the look on your face when you come, he pushes your lower back forward so you fall against his chest, before lifting himself up to meet you halfway. With one arm locked around you, he brings his other hand down between the two of you to rub quick circles over your clit. The new angle lets him thrust up into you, and the increased pace of his movements mixed with the speed of his fingers sends you flying over the edge.
Your mouth falls open with a loud cry, and you squeeze him so tightly he's practically seeing stars. You look so beautiful when you come, like a goddess sent down here just for him, and when your eyes meet his, he finds his own climax.
His body jerks forward with the force of his release, and you let him thrust a few more times as he finally finishes inside of you.
After pulling out, he tugs you down to lay next to him, and at first you let him, but the emotions warring inside of you don't stay quiet for long.
You know that whatever this was isn't going to go anywhere. You didn't work in college, and you won't work now, and you don't want anyone to get hurt again, so you have to make a choice. Now.
"I need to get some rest," you say quietly, a tiny part of you hoping he doesn't hear you. "Before the next match."
"Yeah," he sighs after a beat. "Me too."
You let him hold you for a moment longer, before he unwraps himself from your body and sits up, tugging his shirt and pants back on. You tug the sheet back and wrap it around your torso as he stands up and walks to the door.
You're not sure what you're expecting as he goes to leave, but what you get is a silent nod as the door swings shut behind him.
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bunni-v1 · 9 months
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First Years Finding Out Your A Girl?!?! (NOT CLICKBAIT!!!)
TW: Mild swearing, STRICTLY Female Reader, Discussion of Jack having a good sniffer (lol)
Info: Headcannons; Ace, Deuce, Jack, and Epel x Reader (platonic); Mostly for fun
🍓Hi. I'm back... sorta. I didn't have much time to write over the summer, and I honestly don't know how much I can write during school cause my schedule is... yikes. But I picked up something I wrote a while ago, edited it, and decided to post it. I'll be answering whatever's in my ask box right now, and then maybe work on some other stuff.
Ortho & Sebek
Second Years
Third Years
Dorm Leaders
-Okay so, I know we’re all wondering, how the hell do you get away with hiding your gender for so damn long?
-Firstly, those ceremonial robes do great at hiding the figure. The only tell would maybe be your hair, but feminine men aren’t unwelcome at Nightraven College, so you mostly get a few questioning stares and that’s it.
-Secondly, Crowley wants to save his own fucking ass. He already has to hide from the press that he has a MAGICLESS student from ANOTHER DIMENSION here, he doesn’t need the fact that you are a woman ALSO on his plate. So, obviously, he helps you hide your gender from others.
-Grim knows, of course, and he keeps his mouth shut for a few yummy cans of tuna (and threats of being expelled from Crowley <3)
-Even when you were just a janitor, he couldn’t have the rumor that he put a “helpless” young woman to work. (Like it wouldn’t be expected.)
-So how do you two do it?
-Baggy ass uniform. Crowley gave you at least three sizes too big.
-Your figure is completely hidden. Sure, you look completely homeless, but at least you’re hidden.
-For your voice, you simply deepen it. After some point, you blackmail Crowley into giving you a potion to help with it, since it's so taxing on your voice. (Or maybe your voice is naturally deep!)
-Sam provides you (for an unfairly pretty penny (not too different from your original world…)) any feminine hygiene products you might need.
-Honestly, you’re set for being cared for, but it’s the adjustment period that’s the hardest part. 
-Truly, it’s very jarring to suddenly be thrown into both a magical world and be isolated in a man's world with nowhere to hide.
-At least in your world you had other women who could understand your struggles. Here though? You’re completely alone.
-You notice how… messy some of these guys could be. How some of them smell… really rancid. -How rough they were with you and each other.
-Honestly, it’s kinda eye-opening. The way men show affection to each other is oddly refreshing to watch and experience!
-Ace and Deuce specifically are a good… trial run.
-That’s not what we’re here to talk about though…
-For the most part, it's incredibly easy to hide yourself for the first while on campus. Everyone on campus is so self-absorbed that they don’t bother questioning you.
-Your only real risk factor is Savannaclaw, but it's easy to avoid those guys (minus Jack, of course, but we’ll get to him).
-However, you can only hide your gender for so long… It’s mentally draining to keep up this facade all the time around people you care about.
-So… how do they find out?
FIRST-YEAR SQUAD
Ace
-He’s one of the first ones who find it out, and it’s in the very cliche anime way.
-After some point of knowing you, Ace is so comfortable that he just invites himself into ramshackle. 
-It’s never been an issue or anything. You’re thick as thieves now, you’ve survived death together a handful of times. If you ask Ace, that’s about as close as you can get with someone.
-Normally, you and Grim are just sitting around in the living area, but this time you aren’t. However, he does hear voices coming from your room. His curiosity is peaked.
-So, slippery guy that he is, he sneaks up to your room and his curiosity only grows when he hears a woman’s voice. Prefect getting lucky? And he didn’t tell him? Ace thought you guys were friends.
-He creeps up to your room, slides open your door, and!!! Holy shit it’s you. It’s you in a towel. It’s you and you’ve got tits?!?! 
-His first reaction is to… well… scream.
-“You’re a girl?!?”
“Why are you in my room???”
“You’ve got- boobs!”
 “Get out Ace!”
-Bro sits very politely and very quietly on your couch after that. Deep behind his blank stare, he is seething. You were a girl this whole time, and you didn’t tell him! He thought you guys were friends!
-He definitely fights you about it once you’re down and dressed. He’s just salty, he’ll get over it. 
-Swears up and down he won’t tell anyone.
-Immediately tells Deuce.
-That's it though! Deuce is part of the main quartet, he deserves to know! (You scold him for this too, but you figured it would happen one way or another).
-From him finding out, he doesn’t really treat you differently. You’re still a person, why should he act differently cause you’ve got different body parts than him.
-Though, and he won’t admit this, he’s a bit more… watchful of the others around you. Yeah, you can hold your own and he respects you… but guys like Azul exist, and he’s seen firsthand the torture Azul is capable of. 
Deuce
-As stated before, Ace outs you to Deuce almost immediately after finding out.
-Deuce, in all his awkward glory, completely shuts down. Disconnects from this plane of existence. He cannot believe the news he was just told.
-You, one of his best friends in all of twisted wonderland. You, the person who survived multiple overblots alongside him. You, who have seen him at his most vulnerable… are a girl.
-It isn’t even the fact that you’re a girl, it’s the fact that you kept this a secret from him for so long. You guys are… bros… how could you possibly hide something so important from him. Did you not trust him?
-Yeah… he overthinks things quite a bit.
-He also ambushes you the very next day with a million questions (very loudly (very in public)), to which you calm him down and reassure him that “No, Deuce, I don’t suddenly hate you. I wasn’t hiding it from you maliciously. I was going to tell you at some point, I just hadn’t had a good time to.”
-Deuce’s behavior definitely… changes… in some ways. 
-Deep down he knows you’re a kick-ass bitch and you don’t need to be cared for, but he can’t help but want to. 
-It’s definitely his mommy issues in play here.
-He just becomes more… protective and aware around you. Not in a creepy obsessive way, just in the same way a guard dog would. 
-Like Ace, he’s more than aware of what the people on this campus are capable of, and you’re completely magicless on top of being more feminine. Some guys at NRC would hop on an opportunity like that like nothing.
-He just doesn’t want to see his friends getting hurt okay :(
-It’s like you gained an overprotective older brother who also sometimes barks!
Jack
-Out of everyone, Jack was the first to find out.
-I don’t wanna be the cliche writer but… he’s got a sniffer on him. 
-He definitely could smell that something was up, but he didn’t want to assume! 
-You could be trans, you could be genderfluid, you could be anything other than a woman! It’s not his place to judge, and smell isn’t always the end all be all. You could just really smell feminine and that's how guys come in your world.
-Mr. Respectful would never want to assume anything… but he’s a little curious he won’t lie.
-Jack REALLY found out shortly after Ace, Deuce and Grim got their asses in trouble with Azul. 
-He’d never been given a reason to spend any more than a few minutes around you at a time. However, since he got pulled into this mess, he’s spent a lot more time with you.
-It happened when he was forced to hide under the desk in his office.
-You were so close and you just… smelled like a girl.
-He is so polite and so upstanding, he would NEVER ask you directly. But the suspense of not knowing really does take a number on him.
-By the end of Azul’s overblotting he is so awkward and nervous around you, that you absolutely have to say something.
-At this point, you figured most of the beastmen had an idea of you being feminine, however, you had no real confirmation of that. 
-Jack is such a “let's not bother other people” kind of guy, that you knew he wouldn’t want to say anything to you if you knew… so you decided to take the plunge.
-At the museum, you pull him aside and you have to ask.
_”Jack?”
“Hm?”
“You know, don’t you?”
“…”
“I figured as much. Don’t tell anyone, m’kay? I want to tell my friends on my terms.”
-It makes Jack respect you more than he already did. Not only did you have the confidence to confront him, but you did it calmly and you were understanding of his position.
-And honestly? Not much changes between the two of you.
-He just respects you a little more. He’s not particularly protective around most other students, he talks to you the same, and he doesn’t act like you’re special. You’re just… a friend. 
-The only thing that he may be different about is other beastmen. He does his best to shield you from them if he feels they might be a threat to your well-being. 
Epel
-Epel, being a more feminine-looking man himself… doesn’t think much of you.
-At this point, you’re well acclimated to things at nightraven college, and are very good at being “one of the boys.”
-His ONLY implication is how… differently Rook and Kalim treat you.
-At this point, Kalim has found out via the previous chapter, and Rook knows because of course he does. (We won’t be getting into that today though)
-They both are more… delicate with you? Rook whips out the charm times ten when you’re around. Kalim, although friendly with everyone, seems to be even MORE friendly when you’re around. Like he wants you to like him.
-Even Deuce and Ace have a few… odd tells.
-They both pointedly ensure Jamil is at least five feet away from you at all times. Glare at Rook when he’s a little too charming.
-Other than that, nothing really gives it away.
-Epel is completely and totally in the dark because you’re really good at hiding that you’re a woman.
-He does, however, eventually find out because… Deuce slips up. He’s there giving his big speech on the beach, hyping Epel up, and somehow he manages, “And the prefect is a woman, but she never lets that get in her way!”
-Epel: Shocked, confused, in awe… says nothing. He lets the information ruminate.
-He lets it ruminate for a very long time.
-So long, in fact, that he doesn’t raise his suspicions until the two of you are on a broom heading off to save Vil’s life.
-The silence was killing him, so he had to ask.
-“Prefect, are you a girl?”
“You didn’t know?”
“I couldn’t be sure, I look like a girl too, so you never know.”
“Yes, Epel, I’m a girl.”
“…Cool.”
-Honestly, he’s kind of jealous of you. You passed better than him, and you had to try harder.
-It doesn’t change how he treats you, honestly. He’s not that kind of country bumpkin, but he won’t lie and say he doesn’t have a little resentment held against you.
-He thinks you’re cool as hell, and you help redefine what femininity can look like to him much better than what Vil does.
-He, however, does actively become more protective of you. 
-Not because he thinks you can’t fend for yourself, but because he kinda wants to show off a little.
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ellie with a mean gf!
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(prjoecting like a mf rn...)
a/n - i have been very unmotivated to write full-fleshed stuff so i'm deciding to write drabbles/headcannons for now. also THANK YOU FOR ALL THE ATTENTION ON CH.1 OF GOOD LUCK, BABE! it makes my heart smile that you guys love it so much... also😭😭...: @sweetcici11 srry that i lied and said ur fic would be out a few nights ago. i'm really trying to finish it but i don't want to rush it and it be shitty. i really want it to be enjoyable and as good as it can be. but i PROMISE you it WILL be posted... sooner or later! i also have a few more drafts to finish too, so, i hope you guys like them when they come out!!!!!
content warnings - fluff, i'm a bitch and i want to feel loved and think that someone can put up with my cuntiness😝😝 , over-usage of commas probably, i think they're low-key kind of toxic?!?!?!?! , guys i promise i'm not this bad i've just been pretty insufferable these last few days and need an outlet 😭😭 .
i wrote way more than i thought i was going to...
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- you both hated each other at first. ...well actually, you hated her, and she was like, "😞😞" and then got used to it after a while and started being mean back 2 u!!
- dina introduced ellie to you when you both were hanging out with her. "you guys are going to love each other🥰!" ... you didn't 🤗 !
- ellie said hi to you and all you did was look her up and down, stare at her for a few seconds and then turn your head.
- everytime ellie would (attempt to) strike up a conversation you would give an overtly enthusiastic response or just stare at her like she had two heads or just blatantly ignore her. dina is over there like, '😟😟 . can we not have one good day...' when dina would leave for short periods of time and ellie was sure that you didn't like her, she would just talk about anything to get your blood boiling, our girl lllloooovvveessss to push buttons, we know this to be true.
- it got worse yet more tolerable after that. whenever she'd see you at gatherings or parties, you'd do your damnest to stay away from/avoid her. and she'd do her damnest to get you as upset with her as possible. it always ended with not-so-playful not-so-friendly banter!
- you were talking with jesse about something on the couch, and ellie came over and DELIBERATELY, DELIBERATELY... interrupted you 🤗 ! :
you shoot daggers at her face with your eyes, your jaw set hard and your eyes narrowed.
ellie tried to feign innocence, raising a brow at you after she looked over to see your facial expressions long after she felt them.. "what are you looking at me like that for🤨🤨?" , "i was fucking talking, you're being rude." , "if i have to get used to you being a bitch, you got to do the same." , you just huffed at her response and crossed your arms before walking off a few minutes after, realizing that the conversation you were having with jesse earlier was indeed over. ellie smirked to herself, victory was her's!
- she started calling you the nickname brat out of the blue... it blindsided tf out of you. here's the origin story!:
you look at ellie with a disgusted look on your face as she exhales smoke. her glazed over eyes meet yours before she offers the joint to you, out of genuine kindness. "want a hit?" she asked, forgetting how much of a bitch you were for, like, 0.2 seconds. you glare at her for a moment longer before plastering a sarcastic smile on your face, snatching the joint from her fingertips and dropping it onto the floor. you kept her eyes on yours as you stomped and smushed it into the ground.
now she remembered.
she stood up instantaneously, she was pissed. "what the fuck?!" she shouted, earning a few looks from some friends across the room. they strained their necks for a little bit before they saw you, it made sense now, and then turned back to the conversation.
you close your eyes for a slight second as a satisfied smile graced the corners of your lips. "you know i don't smoke, ellie." you responded with in a condescendingly sweet voice.
she didn't even argue with you. "you're such a fuckin' brat." she muttered under her breath before walking away. you had to try your very best to ignore the heartbeat in your pussy. (🤗!)
- she didn't get to see how much effect that title had on you that night, but she noticed afterwards.
- one time you didn't say anything to ellie during a hangout, distracted by someone you disliked more than her. ellie kind of missed it☹️☹️ .
you were brought out of your thoughts when you felt her cold hand touch your shoulder. when you noticed it was her who was doing it, you pulled back with a furrow of her brows. ellie smiled. there she was.
"you haven't said one mean thing to me since i've gotten here. are you dying?"
you scoffed as you pointed in the direction your anger was radiating from. it was a girl ellie saw here and there in jackson, sometimes she was paired with her during patrols, she wasn't crazy about her but she paid no mind to her existence.
"what?- what does this have to do with me-"
"what it has to do with you, is that you should feel honored that i can tolerate you... can't fuckin' stand that bitch."
ellie scoffed before speaking up once more, "oh, c'mon you're being dramatic. don't be a brat."
your eyes went wide for a second and as you turned away, she could see the cheek that was facing her turn an embarrassing shade of red. she found your weakness.
- when you guys started dating, no one, and i mean NO ONE, believed it. (i don't feel like writing how u two got together maybe if y'all like this enough i'll make a full-fleshed oneshot abt it😭.)
- joel saw you guys together... like, not arguing, and HER head on YOUR shoulder... he thought he got laced with acid for a quick second there... jesse felt like he missed a couple chapters and felt very sad that he hadn't caught onto it quicker... and dina was so proud of herself, "told you, you guys would love each other 😁." she's so smug, I LOVE HER!
- she constantly has to reprimand you like you're a child when you guys are around someone you obviously don't like for whatever reason. once whoever left the room, ellie'll pinch your shoulder or your thigh, whatever skin is on display at the moment, not too hard, just to get you to wince a bit. you'll make a face at her afterwards. "ow, what the fuck was that for ellie?" , "we can talk shit when we get home, don't make a scene🙄." you stress her out sometimes...
- just bcs you guys are together DOES NOT mean your attitude has gone away.
whenever ellie and you have gotten in an argument, you're always being extra sarcastic and EXTRA BITCHY just to get on her nerves.
"baby, have you seen my gun?" she asks you, breaking the silence voluntarily as she's two minutes from being late to patrol.
you don't look up to her, you keep on looking at the pages of an old magazine. "idk ellie, did you check to see if it was shoved up your ass."
she just stands there for a second like this 🧍‍♀️ , before sighing and walking somewhere else to find it. "i'll fuckin' deal with you later." she mutters under her breath, obviously annoyed. you smirk to yourself as you flip another page.
- she does love, however, that you've gotten gentler with her since the relationship blossomed between you two. very few people (dina and ellie... sometimes jesse.) can get you to stop, and ellie is proud of herself that she could add beast-tamer to the top of her list of many skills and talents.
- sometimes she has to calm you down, sometimes all it takes is a stare in your direction. ... well, it's oftentimes a glare... you're your own woman/person and a relationship will not restrict you from showing off your talents!!!!!
- ellie has to constantly keep you from getting into arguments that could harm you physically. although your craft of bitchery is amazing, you can't fight to save your life.
she'll be pulling you back like an angry barking dog on a leash.
"i could've fucking took h-" , "you overestimate yourself a lot, baby."
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agendabymooner · 6 months
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SOMETHING ANGELIC !!! CHARLES L. X FEM!READER (18+)
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summary: she was so sweet but her ex should've known better than keeping her his dirty little secret. OR it was wrong to lust after her ex's teammate but charles leclerc was willing to give her everything.
content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), use of explicit language, tbh there's barely smut in there but charles is nasty as fuck so 🙃, ex!carlos sainz x pr manager!reader, hint of corruption kink (not really), p in v, unprotected sex (plz use protection), lowkey possessive!charles, i barely understand what i wrote tbh
note: i only post a lot of charles when he's a dad to the leclerc boys but god did i have some filthy thoughts about him tonight. enjoy xx
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it was wrong to lust for your ex’s teammate, but charles leclerc was determined to make her his and he made sure that she knew that.
a whole winter break was enough to move on, right? right. charles couldn’t give much shit about the time limit for a person to move on from their ex. 
not when he saw her throughout the first race week as she took long strides while she followed esteban ocon for the french driver’s media duties. charles used to see her in the ferrari area — being carlos’ sweet secret girlfriend and public relations manager. 
how carlos had managed to get away from his crimes of being seen with another woman in public while fucking his manager behind the scenes was something that charles would never understand— but the monégasque pitied the sweet woman for having to see her boyfriend play tonsil hockey with someone else.
she was angelic, having to put up with that kind of thing. and all charles wanted to do was to make her his— to somehow make her realize that she was worth more than what carlos had recognized her for. 
his green eyes nearly darkened when he saw her, sitting alone at the booth that the alpine drivers occupied for the night with a sad expression on her pretty face. four months of break away from carlos and she was still affected by the break up that occurred half a year ago. 
and her sadness was quickly swept aside when she saw charles taking a stride towards her direction, scooting over instinctively as the ferrari driver offered her a grateful smile and sat next to her. 
“i haven’t seen you for a while,” charles told her with a smile, “pierre was incredibly foul for not inviting you to any of our functions during the break.”
“ah- yeah,” she let out an apologetic smile, “i’ve been trying to adjust to my new place in nice. i figured if i was going to be working for alpine, i might as well live in france.”
“oh you moved? trés bonne,” charles nodded, earning a sheepish smile from her. he nearly melted at the sweetness on her reaction. god she was so fucking perfect. 
“it’s such a shame i don’t get to see you in the office anymore, though,” he shrugged. “ferrari lost an asset.” 
she snorted quietly, “hm, fred even said so. but you know— people come and go.” 
“it’s such a pitiful thing, though,” charles said, looking at her while they both drank, “you should’ve been my manager— you’d do more good with me.” 
“you’re right,” she drawled, now staring at his eyes as she playfully said, “you wouldn’t fuck me and i wouldn’t get emotionally attached.”
as if they were both in another universe, charles then chuckled darkly and boldly claimed, “i mean... i still would’ve fucked you— i just wouldn’t be stupid enough to let you go and treat you like a dirty little secret.” 
she saw how his pupils darkened as he spoke, feeling her legs absentmindedly closing and squirming. as if the floodgates had opened and arousal had gotten the best of her. 
“nobody knew about you and sainz but me, right? the amount of times i’ve had to turn a blind eye was insane— i almost thought i’d have to intervene because it was compromising his media duties,” charles admitted, “i wondered what kept you from getting him to move and do his job— it turns out he’s just fucking you in his motorhome. i’ve had to tell the social media manager that he’s just woken up from a nap.”
“he pretended that you’re not even worth the attention after his races because you’ve always been second best to him,” charles tutted.
she huffed, “there’s no need to rub it on my face—“
“—oh no, mon tresor, i’m not being a dickhead about it,” charles shook his head, placing his drink down on the table. 
the lights in the club were nothing but colourful strobes that didn’t even spot them, making it easier for him to get closer without anyone noticing and interrupting them. 
his breath fanned her ear as he whispered huskily, “i wouldn’t allow him to make you see yourself as second best, mon ange.”
“charles—“ she let out a breathless sigh, feeling his mouth leave open mouthed kisses on her skin. “this is so wron—“
“nothing’s wrong with this when we don’t work anymore, mon tresor,” he murmured. “there’s nothing more wrong than allowing your sweetness to get in the way of the things you so deserve.” 
“and you know how to show me the things i deserve?” she asked, almost innocently. god, was he about to cream in his pants if she continued to say shit like this. 
“you can demand the world and i’ll give you the universe,” charles watched her accept his offer as he smiled widely.
it was so wrong to lust after her ex’s teammate, but if charles leclerc was willing to give her everything then who was she to reject the offer? the monégasque was telling her to be greedy, and this was the best way to do it. 
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she felt too overwhelmed. whether it was because of how charles treated her body or how he spoke so dirtily— she wasn’t sure. 
her mind was on an overdrive. all she could think about was him. his godlike figure, his prettiest eyes and his thick cock that continued to pound inside her cunt. 
she almost shook at his tone as he groaned delightfully right by her ear, “mon dieu, chéri, tu te sens si divin.” my god, darling, you feel so divine.
charles helped her prop herself up back on her knees as his hand guided her eyes towards the mirror in front of them, watching her eyes glistening as much as her cunt did in pleasure.
he then murmured, “do you see yourself, sweetheart? you look so pretty.”
she couldn’t even find herself to look when all she’s thinking about was the cock that stuffed her from behind, a strangled whine escaping her throat as she urged him to move. 
“i wish carlos was here to see this,” he chuckled deeply, his fingers pinching her hardened nipple before trailing down her clit to stimulate her even more. she let out a loud whimper, now feeling overwhelmed by his words and his actions as he fucked her once more. “so he knows not to treat you like you’re not worth bragging about.” 
“but i guess he had a reason to keep you a secret, hm?” he taunted her, rocking his hips against her as he bottomed out inside her. “because he knew that once you’re out in the world you’d be corrupted by some men. he was so selfish that he thought his sweet innocent girlfriend shouldn’t be corrupted by anyone but him.” 
“oh how wrong he was,” charles moaned, his thrusts turning rough and fast as he growled. “you know you deserve better than being a dirty little secret, no?” he tapped her face lightly with his palm as he said, “answer me, mon ange.”
“o- oh- yes,” she cried out, “yes, yes—“
“i can give you everything, mon tresor,” he murmured, “everything that he couldn’t give you.” 
“fuck, charles! please,” she mewled, looking behind her with pleading eyes as she begged desperately, “want to cum again, charles please~”
“gonna cum in this pussy of yours, mon ange—“
“please, cum inside me,” she moaned aloud, her desperation echoing around the suite as well as the skins slapping against each other. “please pleaseeee~ just wan’ to cum. god! feel so full, fuck!”
“gonna cum inside you, and make you mine,” he growled quietly, nibbling on her skin as she whined and mewled. her walls clenched at the thought as he chuckled, “oh? you want that, hm? you want me to make this pussy mine?” 
“yes! fuck-“ she exclaimed, her body convulsing while she whined, “want you to own me, charles. wanna be stuffed full by you only, charles please~”
“you could’ve asked me a long time ago, mon tresor,” his thrusts turned hard and slower as he came inside her, feeling her clench around his cock as they reached their highs. 
she was too fucked out and full, content at the feeling of his cock inside of her while feeling nothing but happiness being in his arms. 
charles couldn’t help but grin widely at the sight of her limped body and the dazed expression on her face. he couldn’t find himself to think about his teammate when this sweet woman was finally his.
he knew that he could do so much better treating her like a queen that she was than carlos would ever do. 
everything that her ex never gave her— charles would be more than willing to hand it to her on a gold plate.
the next morning, charles found carlos at the hotel lobby as they were both heading to the airport. the two ferrari drivers got to speak to one another before pierre gasly and esteban ocon saw them and talked amongst themselves.
carlos sainz sure was the kind to be confused and puzzled, and he showed this when esteban’s manager — who was once carlos’ girlfriend and manager — approached the group and talked to the drivers before turning to charles with a sweet smile. 
“are you going to go now, mon ange?” charles asked with a smile, watching her blush at the attention she got from him as she nodded meekly. “you could just come with us, you know? we’re heading to the same place, anyway.”
“yeah but,” she gestured to the two alpine drivers, “someone has to control these two before the next race week starts.” 
the alpine drivers protested against her words as she and charles giggled. charles then looked at her and said, “okay well… text me when you get there, okay?” 
she nodded and gave charles a sheepish smile (as if she hadn’t found herself saying the filthiest words to him the night before; not that carlos knew). 
charles wrapped his arms around her before kissing her passionately, humming at the taste of her. pierre let out a whistle and esteban grinned at the two toothily. 
while carlos… carlos was just confused as fuck. 
“see you tomorrow, pretty girl,” charles winked at her, smirk playfully written on his face as she giggled quietly and left with the two alpine drivers. 
charles found carlos staring at him with his mouth slightly agape, making the monegasque chuckle and shake his head. “she’s so sweet and pretty, no?” 
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♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @topguncultleader @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico
♡   moony’s reminder 🅴 (explicit edition): @glitterf1 @savrose129
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betterbooktitles · 4 months
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"I’m certain I’m not the only millennial who feels we as a nation have taken a dizzying turn when it comes to drugs. I remember a uniformed police officer showing up once a week in 5th Grade (a year before Sex Ed) to explain how to avoid buying and taking drugs. Luckily, I already knew the dangers of the drug trade because I had seen The Usual Suspects. I knew cocaine was a bad thing to buy, sell, or steal, especially from a drug kingpin. The D.A.R.E. program, however, let me know how important it was to say no to anything fun, including alcohol. At least until I understood a little algebra first. We did role-playing exercises where we walked one by one toward the portly police officer and he casually asked if we wanted to hit a mimed joint with him. All we had to do was say “no” and walk to the other side of the room, defying the only rule I knew about improv. We wrote essays about how important it was to preserve our pristine bodies and minds, obviously unsullied since we had yet to take the class teaching us how puberty was going to defile them both. I’m still mad that my friend Nicole’s essay beat mine in a contest, and she got to read hers in front of the whole school all because she had the benefit of an older brother who took too much acid and sat in her room all night talking about why the existence of light proved God was real. My essay about a time I saw my friend’s dad drink a beer and then drive his truck somewhere was also good! We signed pledges to enter the new millennium drug-free. We took the red pencils that said “Friends Don’t Let Friends Do Drugs” and sharpened all of them down to say “Let Friends Do Drugs,” “Friends Do Drugs,” “Do Drugs,” and simply “Drugs.” Despite that little rebellious act, my friends and I spent a solid six months swearing we’d never put any harmful substance into our bodies besides every form of candy available.
Imagine how I feel now as a D.A.R.E. graduate becoming my dad’s drug dealer. It’s less thrilling than I thought it would be. Between my father’s warning not to hang around one specific neighborhood in Cleveland as a kid and nearly every TV show about drugs, I thought I’d always be buying marijuana from an intimidating dude who definitely had a gun and would use it immediately if he thought I was wearing a wire. Instead, I now buy marijuana from a well-lit storefront that looks like the Apple Store. I’ve even gone to a place where a guy with an iPad explained what each available strain would do to me. I buy what sounds good with all the confidence of a man pointing at items on a menu written in a language he can’t read. I put it all in a cardboard box. I place a book on top. I mail the box to my dad from my local post office. I tell myself the book is to hide the contraband crossing state lines, but in truth, the book is what clears my conscience. I want to send my dad something edifying while also sending him the drug that all of America worried would make me unable to read if I tried it once. The unrequested book is a red herring to distract from the vice, like when you were young and didn’t want to buy condoms outright at the store so you cushioned them between a pack of peanut M&Ms and a magazine. Hmm, what else did I need, — right, while I’m here — might as well pick up a few condoms.
Right as marijuana becomes legal in most states, I’m about done with the drug. I’ve had three good times on edibles, and one of them was when I felt nothing and fell asleep at 9:30 PM. I’m flabbergasted that my dad likes edibles. He seems to be a man free of anxiety. Case in point, I once brought him some THC lozenges to our summer holiday in Chautauqua, and around dinner time I told him “You might want to only take half of what I gave you” to which he replied, “I took it hours ago.” He was stoned and no one noticed.
While I’m stuck in my head, stoned or sober, wondering why I didn’t take some acting gig 15 years ago, wondering if I’ll ever make enough money, worrying I’m doing everything wrong including in this moment as I write this sentence, my dad is enjoying himself.
Judith Grisel, the author of Never Enough: The Neuroscience And Experience of Addiction, describes using marijuana as throwing “a bucket of red paint” on your brain. She was approaching the stimulant clinically in terms of how it differed from the laser focus of other drugs (THC reacts with many receptors in the brain, cocaine focuses on one), but now every time I smoke, I think of the red paint metaphor. While other people seem able to crank an entire joint and do insanely complicated stuff like function at their jobs, I am reduced to a gelatinous blob, on top of which my eyes and brain are navigating a dream state that, like many dreams, isn’t all that interesting the next day. Mostly, I get high and can’t decide what I want to watch on TV or what video game I want to play, I realize how hungry I am, and then I fall asleep with cereal still stuck to my teeth. Pot, for me, is like the squid ink hitting the screen in Mario Kart: I can still see where I’m going, but everything gets a little harder to do, and the panicked half-blindness makes everything slightly more chaotically fun."
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Other articles include:
An essay on Claire Dederer's book Monsters and movies made by monsters.
Writing inside a Toyota Service Center.
Writing mistresses.
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golden-cherry · 3 months
Text
deal - cl16 (25/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: Having lunch with friends always leads to sharing information. And girl, those friends don't hold back.
Warnings: 18+ (mentions of smut), fluff, Kika is the bestest friend on this planet, mentions of Carlos and his girlfriend (yes, I consider this a trigger)
Word Count: 3.3k
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A/N: I just reached 2.6k followers and wow!! thank you so much!!! I love you! and this one is for you!!! feedback is appreciated.
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Although it's only a few days until Christmas, the sun is shining so brightly that it's pleasantly warm as you and Kika leave the furniture store. As planned - but still with an uneasy feeling - you have left the almost overflowing shopping cart in front of the checkouts and while Charles pays for your "early Christmas present", you and your friend walk to the restaurant.
"I hope all this stuff fits in the car." Kika curls her mouth into a grin. "The mirror I wrote on the note - you know, the one they have to get from storage - is pretty big."
"I'd like to have your guts," you answer her. "Just picking out a huge mirror without knowing exactly whether it will fit anywhere in our apartment."
Kika grins and points to her brown eyes. "Eye measurement, baby. Those marbles are that big for a reason."
You have to stifle a laugh. "If you say so."
While the Portuguese woman plans where in your room she will place which decoration, your thoughts drift off. 
It bothers you a little that Charles wants to spend so much money on you. And for no good reason. "I want you to feel comfortable" was his explanation, which is of course very courteous and loving of him. But you could have bought the things with your own money. At least a small part of it. 
Would he expect a similarly expensive gift for Christmas now? If so, what could you get him? What do you give someone who already has everything? 
"Are you mad at me?" Kika interrupts your flow of thoughts and grabs your elbow. 
Confused, you turn to her. "What?"
"I - I don't know." When she stops, you're forced to stop too. "I didn't tell you that Charles is a famous Formula 1 driver. You - you confided in me about Raphael and I kept you in the dark about your roommate." 
You exhale. "Kika..."
"I wasn't a good friend and I'm sorry about that. Charles had asked us all not to tell because he wanted to protect you and enjoy the time with you when he was just Charles to you. Even if it wasn't fair to you. I can understand if you're angry with me and-"
"I'm not angry with you," you interrupt her and smile at her. "You're Charles' friend first and foremost and I can't blame him or you for keeping his secret. It doesn't affect our friendship in the slightest."
"Promise?" Her tone sounds a little more pleased than it did a few moments ago. 
You nod. "I promise."
She hooks back into you. "Thank goodness for that. I felt super bad because I couldn't tell you. But it wasn't my secret and it wasn't my place to tell you. And I'm really relieved that you see it the same way." She rests her head on your shoulder as you continue walking. 
"So you're a model, huh?" you ask her. 
She nods. "Yes. Well, I put a lot of effort into it and it's very tiring at times." Kika shrugs her shoulders. "But because of that - and Pierre, of course - I get to travel a lot and see great places. And I really appreciate that." She looks at you. "Now that you're unemployed -" You give her a dirty look. "Maybe you'd like to take my pictures sometime. And then I can post it on my Instagram and maybe other models will want to book you."
"You haven't seen any of my pictures yet," you reply with a laugh as she grabs your hand and jumps up and down. "Of course we can. We can try it out if you like."
Your friend looks around briefly before letting go of you and moving away from you. "How about now? I know you don't have your camera with you, but you can use my phone. The photos won't be as focused as with a real camera, but it should be enough to get you started." 
She hands you her cell phone before standing opposite you against the wall of the house. You watch her uncertainly as she fixes her hair. "Are you sure about this? What if the boys are already waiting for us?"
"Let them." She pulls her black jeans up a little so that they sit loosely on her hips. "It won't take long. And I trust you. So here we go."
While Kika turns, repositions herself and smiles at the camera, you take as many pictures as you can. In between, you adjust her purple cardigan so that it sits in the middle of her narrow shoulders, tell her how her feet should be positioned to emphasize the curves of her body and even tousle her hair once so that a few strands fall loosely into her forehead. 
When you look at the pictures after ten minutes and favor three of them, she looks curiously over your shoulder. "They look great. Really outfit of the day vibe." You hand the phone back to her. "I like this one. And this one. You've captured my butt well," she grins and puts the phone in her black handbag before hooking it back up to you. "And now let's go. I'm really hungry and I don't want to keep your tiramisu from you."
Oh well. 
Charles' words - "Then lie down on the bed, mon amour. I'd like to see how you look on it" - haunt your mind and the images that appear in your head don't make the situation any easier.  
For example, Charles kneeling between your legs and his gaze wandering hungrily over your body. How his hands rest on your thighs to open them a little wider so that he can lie comfortably on his stomach between them. How he slides his fingers under the hem of your panties to slowly pull them off your legs. And the way his mouth moves up from the soft skin of your thighs to where you want it to be. Need it to be. The way he opens his mouth and licks his tongue over his lips before closing the distance between you and - 
"Watch out. You start drooling." When you give Kika a confused look, she pokes you in the side. "I didn't know you could daydream about tiramisu."
"I wasn't even thinking about tiramisu," you defend yourself, but Kika doesn't believe a word you say. 
"Of course not." You could even hear her grin if you weren't looking at her. She lifts her hand and puts it to your cheek, playfully wiping the non-existent spit from the corner of your mouth. "I hate to repeat myself, but you're really not very good at lying."
You chew the inside of your cheek and look down at your sneakers. "Is it that obvious?"
"That you're totally into tiramisu? Hardly," she replies wryly, but puts her arm around your shoulder. "Let's be honest. A trained eye like mine can spot something like that, but if you're worried about the boys seeing it - you really don't need to worry. They wouldn't even recognize a dessert if you put it right in front of them."
"I just don't know what to do," you confess to her. 
Kika purses her lips. "Would you be ready for tiramisu after everything that's happened?"
A question you don't know the answer to. After Raphael's betrayal, you had actually sworn off men for a long time for fear that something similar would happen to you again. You tried to build a wall around your heart, but Charles has broken it down piece by piece and now there is only him. He has spread inside you, in your head and in your heart, and you are hungry for him - a feeling that you have never felt for Raphael before. A feeling that takes you by surprise and overruns you like an avalanche and you are helplessly at its mercy. 
"It's not the end of the world if you're ready for it," Kika assures you and her smile is genuine. "And when you're ready to give the tiramisu its real name, I'll be here if you want to talk about it."
You hug your friend tightly, causing her to let out a loud gasp. "Thank you, Kika. Really."
"You don't need to thank me. After all, I'm going to make full use of the mirror in your room soon and use you for your photography skills."
A few minutes later, you arrive at the small restaurant. As you enter through the glass door, you can already see the two men sitting at a table at the back. And Kika was right - apart from the four of you, the restaurant is deserted. 
"Where have you been?" asks Pierre as you join them. While Kika sits down opposite her boyfriend, you take the empty seat next to her. "We've been waiting for ages."
"We had to stop for a moment because I wanted to take photos," Kika explains and shows them both one of the pictures you took of her.
Pierre grimaces in amazement. "Very good photos. I hope you tag her in them too."
Playfully indignant, she puts her hand to her cleavage. "Of course! What makes you think I wouldn't do that? It might even land her more photo shoots with other models." She leans in your direction. "But as long as I remain your favorite model, everything's fine."
"You are and always will be my favorite model, Kika," you reply and briefly lean your cheek against the top of her head before she sits up straight again. 
While Kika and Pierre argue lovingly, you feel Charles pressing one of his legs against yours under the table. When you look at him, he smiles. "Everything okay?" he asks silently, tilting his head. 
You nod. "Everything's perfect." You press your leg against his as well.
The risotto you ordered doesn't taste too bad, even if it is a little more fancy than your typical meals. The boys talk about their sport and you try to understand everything, but when the conversation eventually turns to engines, you stop listening. 
You watch Charles as he talks energetically and passionately to his friend about his job, while the French mainly listens. He tries to explain things with his hands, waving them wildly in front of his face, and if you didn't know him, you'd think he was a bit out of his mind. But there is something twinkling in his eyes, a spark that shines brighter and brighter the longer he talks about Formula 1.
It makes him so attractive that you have to swallow. 
"How are Carlos and his girlfriend doing?" Kika interjects into the conversation. "I saw on Instagram the other day that they went on a trip together."
You look from Kika to Charles. "Who is Carlos?"
"My teammate at Ferrari. The other driver," he explains briefly with a smile before turning to Kika. "I've seen that too. Santorini or something, wasn't it? It was definitely nice, but let's see how long it lasts."
You have to ask again. " How long will it last? That doesn't sound like you have much faith in the relationship."
Kika, who has taken a sip of her water, puts her glass back on the table. "Unfortunately, this has nothing to do with faith," she explains and takes her cell phone out of her bag. She taps on it a little until she hands it to you. 
You see an Instagram page of a Becca, also a model, it seems. 27 years old, model at the Bijou Management agency. Her last post is actually from Santorini and alongside all the pictures of her lolling by the pool is one of her with a man. Carlossainz55 is tagged in the picture.
"When you're famous, it's harder to have a relationship," Pierre continues. "Not everyone is so lucky and falls in love with someone who is a good match for them. Sometimes rumors surface about people that aren't true, but still damage reputations. And to counteract this, some people go into relationships that put them in a good light."
You look around in confusion. "So it's a marketing strategy? So that people can sell themselves better?"
Charles nods. "These PR relationships are very conspicuous and usually easy to see through, but even then they distract from the actual rumor."
"And Carlos and Becca are in one of those PR relationships?" Your friends nod. "And what's the rumor that needs to be put to rest?"
Charles bites the inside of his cheek. "Carlos was with a young, super-nice woman for years. When they broke up, there was a rumor that he had a secret family and even a son. That this was the reason for the break-up. And that triggered a few conversations at Ferrari." He shrugs his shoulders. "And then they pulled Becca in for him."
You furrow your eyebrows. "Pulled her in? How do you find someone to willingly agree to a fake relationship like that?"
Kika catches your attention. "Some racing teams have a cooperation with certain modeling agencies for such cases. Which of course makes the whole thing even more conspicuous. But just think how much publicity the girlfriends get from it. It definitely doesn't hurt the modeling job."
"But you also have to understand that millions of euros are attached to a driver's reputation," Pierre explains. "Fans buy tickets to see their favorite driver. They buy merchandise like shirts, caps or whatever to show their loyalty. And loyalty is not exactly low. Ask Charles. One priest has his whole Instagram page dedicated to him."
As you look at your roommate, he can only nod. "That's true. Fans put their favorites on pedestals, praise them to the skies and would defend them to the bitter end. But a rumor that is so serious and has consequences like falling sales figures - anything is better than fans who refuse to support their favorites."
"And why do you think it won't be good for much longer?" Charles looks nervously around the room as if he doesn't know what to say, and his friends also avoid your gaze and your question. "Guys, I don't know these people. So, whatever you tell me - I can't do anything with the information anyway. Is there another woman?"
"It's not exactly another woman," Kika mumbles into her glass and all heads turn in her direction. "What is it? Like she's going to run to the nearest news agency and tell them that the Spanish Ferrari driver isn't exclusively into women."
You raise your hands placatingly. "In case it's not clear - of course I'll keep everything that's said around the table to myself. I'm not crazy and risking our friendship."
"I didn't expect anything else," Charles replies with a smile that could melt glaciers. "I couldn't bear it if we weren't friends anymore either." 
As you look at him and mindlessly lick your lips, you feel Kika's elbow gently on your arm. 
"What do you think? Do you fancy some tiramisu?" 
Your gaze lingers on Charles and when he presses his leg a little harder against yours, your breath hitches. "I'm craving it."
And indeed. The tiramisu isn't as good as the one at the restaurant where you met Kika and Pierre, but it comes close. You try to look away from Charles, but every time you look at him, his eyes are already on you. Something that makes you even more nervous than it should. 
When you get into the car a short time later, unnoticed, you glance briefly over the seats back into the trunk. "Where's the new bed?"
Charles straps himself in and has the seat belt fastened against his torso. "They'll deliver it between Christmas and New Year and set it up straight away. Then I won't have all the work and Pierre won't have to lug it around with me."
"For which I am very grateful," replies the Frenchman, steering the car through the streets of Monaco. "I don't even know how we're going to transport this mirror without breaking it. It was already barely possible to get it into the car."
"That sounds like a you-problem," grins Kika, looking at her boyfriend through the rear-view mirror. "You're the strong men. You'll find a solution while we get all the little things into the apartment. Right?"
The question is directed at you, but apart from a nod, she can't expect anything else in response. Charles's fingers are once again wrapped around your calf, his thumb gently stroking your warm skin and you can't think of anything else but the feeling of warmth that spreads through you from this small touch. 
It takes a good hour for both the mirror and the rest to get to the upstairs in your apartment. After Pierre involuntarily teaches you several swear words in French and Kika decorates your entire windowsill with fake plants, they quickly make a run for it, worried that you're both going to take even more advantage of them than you already have. 
"We've had a good day so far," you call out to Charles from the kitchen as you pour you both a glass of water each. You don't know where he is, but he will probably have heard you anyway. 
"Definitely," comes his voice from the living room. As you follow it, you see Charles sitting on the large couch, his head back and his eyes closed. Only now do you notice how thick his neck is. Is it from all the training for Formula 1?
"Here." You hold his glass of water out to him and he opens his eyes to accept it. As you sit down, he takes a sip. You watch his Adam's apple bounce as he swallows. 
"Thank you," he replies quietly and rests his arm on the back of the couch. A sign for you to lean against him, which you definitely don't refuse. 
As you snuggle into his side and breathe in his unmistakable scent, you feel tiredness overtake you. "But it was exhausting."
""Mh-mhh." 
"Thanks again. For my early Christmas present. Even though it wasn't necessary," you joke, but as rigid as Charles is sitting next to you, he doesn't seem to be in the mood for jokes. And as you follow his stare, the roses on the white piano come into your field of vision. The reason why you suggested the trip to the furniture store. And suddenly your tiredness is blown away. 
"Do you happen to know anyone who has something like a fire bowl or something?" you ask your flatmate. 
This question seems to break him out of his spell. His gaze wanders from the roses to you and he raises an eyebrow in confusion. "A fire bowl?" You nod. "Joris has a rooftop terrace and we've had bonfires there before in the summer." He licks his teeth once. "What do you need a fire bowl for? You're not thinking about sitting around a fire with sticks and marshmallows in winter, are you?"
"Not exactly," you reply and get up from the couch. As you look down at him, you hold out your hand. "Come on, mon joli. I have an idea."
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genshinluvr · 11 months
Text
Final Moments
Pairings: Various Honkai Star Rail Men x Isekai'd!Reader
Summary: You're somewhere alone, bleeding, and on the verge of death. Everyone is scrambling to reach out to you, but you're not picking up your phone, and no one knows where you are. Not even Nanook knows your whereabouts. You didn't think you could die in a universe you didn't belong to, but you were wrong. At least you were able to hear their voices in your final moments, right?
Note: I haven't written angst in so long. This is probably not the best angst I've written. This is an answer to an ask I received not long ago. I'm not sure how I feel about this mini-fic, but I think something sad happening for once is somewhat good for a fanfic one-shot series. To be really honest, it doesn't feel like angst to me. Idk if it's because I wrote it or if it's because it's not sad enough. Who knows. I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).
Warnings: Major character death, blood, probably my worst angst
Word Count: 3.9k
Your connection with Nanook has been severed. Whenever you sleep, you and Nanook communicate while you’re asleep. When you’re unconscious due to being knocked out by a flying prosthetic arm, Nanook is there— while you’re physically unconscious. You and Nanook have always been connected through body and mind since your arrival to their— Nanook, your Astral Express, Stellaron Hunter, Xianzhou Luofu, and Jarilo-VI companions— universe. However, this is the first time you realize you and Nanook are no longer connected to each other.
In the state of unconsciousness, you’re in the void. Only this void is different from the one where Nanook is covering the sun and sky. This abyss you’re in is pitch black, and you’re the only living being in the endless darkness. There’s no sky, no sun, no stars to light a path along the way in the void. At first, you’re uncertain whether you’re physically in this void or if you’re just unconscious.
That is until you hear ringing in your ears, and light starts flooding in. You gasp aloud as if you finally made it to the surface after being underwater for more than you can handle. Your lungs hurt, and so does your head. As a matter of fact, now that you have regained consciousness, your entire body aches, and you’re tired. So tired. Your eyelids threaten to shut, but you’re trying your best not to lose consciousness again.
Where are you? 
What happened?
You push yourself upward and slump against the wall, choking out a gasp and breathing heavily. Your heart hurts— you didn’t think it was possible for you to feel your heart hurting to the point where you want to cry. Your vision is blurry, and you try to rub your eyes, but you can’t feel your arms. Exhaustion soon overtakes your body, and you fall unconscious.
Meanwhile, on the Astral Express, everyone is crowding around on the Parlor Car, their phones facing upward on the table. Everyone has been trying to call you, only for them to get a voicemail, or the call would fail to go through. The monotonous beep haunts their minds as everyone frantically tries to reach out to you.
“Are you sure the signal is good? Maybe we can’t call them because of the awful signal on the Astral Express,” Caelus comments, chewing on his nails.
March ignores Caelus’ comment. She presses her phone against her ears, listening to the ringing. If the signal was terrible, then how come the phone call was going through for her? The ringing stopped briefly, making March gasp, startling everyone on the Astral Express.
“Hi, this is [Y/N]! Sorry, I can’t come to the phone right now—”
March groans, ending the call. “Never mind. I thought they answered my call, but I was wrong,” March sighs in defeat, sliding her phone on the table.
The lights on the Astral Express flicker, and the door slams open. Nanook steps into the Parlor Car, his gold eyes scanning the Parlor Car, searching for your face. Nanook sighs and stays close to the entrance, running his hands through his hair. Just as Nanook feared: you’re not on the Astral Express either. 
Welt furrows his eyebrows at the Aeon of Destruction. “Nanook. Your presence is sudden,” says Welt.
“Where is [Y/N]? Are they not on the Astral Express?” Nanook asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Unfortunately, they’re not on the Astral Express. We,” Jing Yuan gestures to him, Blade, Luocha, Luka, Sampo, and Gepard, “were contacted by the Astral Express in hopes that [Y/N] is on the Xianzhou Luofu or Jarilo-VI. To everyone’s disappointment, they are nowhere to be found.”
After hearing Jing Yuan’s explanation, Nanook starts to visibly panic. The Aeon of Destruction paces back and forth, taking deep breaths and muttering something under his breath. Everyone on the Astral Express gazes at Nanook worriedly. This is the first time they see him act this way. Nanook has always had this cool, calm, and collected exterior. Nothing can phase him, and only you can get a reaction out of him.
Sampo raises a finger. “Hold up. Why are you asking us where [Y/N] is? Aren’t you the one who can communicate with [Y/N] inside their dreams?” Sampo asks, crossing his arms over his chest and raising his eyebrows at the Aeon.
“Nanook, have you been able to contact them by any chance? We’ve been hitting countless dead ends, and we’re really worried about them,” Gepard says, looking at Nanook pleadingly.
Nanook sighs and stops pacing. He looks at the people on the Astral Express with a deep frown. While Sampo is correct about him being able to communicate with you through your dreams, the people on the Astral Express, Xianzhou Luofu, and Jarilo-VI aren’t the only ones whose struggling to get into contact with you.
Nanook wasn’t able to contact you through your dreams prior to your disappearance. When Nanook brought you into this universe, Nanook made sure to form this connection with you— this unbreakable bond between you and him. But despite creating this unbreakable bond, it somehow severed, and he can no longer contact you through your dreams and unconscious state.
This bond is supposed to be a way for him to track you anywhere in this universe. No matter how out of reach you are from him. Whether you’re in the Astral Express, on Jarilo-VI, the Xianzhou Luofu, the void, etc., Nanook should be able to feel your presence somewhere throughout the universe. Nanook mutters something, closing his eyes and pulling at the roots of his hair with frustration.
“What’s Nanook saying?” Himeko whispers, not taking her eyes off the anguish Aeon.
Luka whispers, “He’s muttering something about [Y/N] and the bond between them. I can’t hear what Nanook is saying, but those are the things I can pick out.”
Dan Heng stares at his phone intently, staring at your contact picture while listening to the monotonous ring. This is the fourth attempt. The fourth time he’s tried to call you, only for there to be a voicemail or just constant beeping that’s shaking him to his core. You can be anywhere in the universe, and finding your precise location without you telling them where you’re at will be the most challenging thing they deal with.
“Are they still not answering their phone, Dan Heng?” Luocha asks, approaching the black-haired man.
Dan Heng sighs, ending the call when he hears your voicemail through the speakers. “No,” Dan Heng mutters, shaking his head.
Blade stares at the panicking Nanook, frowning deeply. Blade sighs, rubbing his temples with shaky hands. As much as Blade wishes he was mishearing the things Nanook was muttering to himself, the more Blade thinks about it, the more it makes sense. Nanook is the one that brought you into this universe— he should know your exact location no matter what planet and fleet you’re on. Nanook should be able to communicate with you through your dreams or unconscious state, and because Nanook is visibly panicking and stressing out over your whereabouts, Blade concludes that—
“Your connection with [Y/N] has been severed, isn’t it?” Blade asks, breaking the tense silence in the Astral Express and bringing Nanook out of his thoughts.
Nanook clenches his jaws, nodding. “It has been severed, unfortunately. I do not know how it happened, and I’m sure [Y/N] isn’t the one that severed it. There’s no way for them to sever the connection,” Nanook replies.
Everyone stares at Nanook in horror. If Nanook is unable to contact you, then it’s very unlikely they’ll be able to find you sooner. You, [Y/N]. The same person not from their universe, the same precious star everyone holds dear to their hearts— whether as a best friend, little sibling, or a small crush that developed into something bigger— the same star that shines the brightest in the universe. You’re somewhere out there in the universe, exposed to dangers you’re not used to handling. Heck, everyone didn’t plan on letting you be exposed to any hazards that exist in this universe, but now?
“So, you’re saying there’s no way for any of us to contact [Y/N]?” Welt asks, raising his eyebrows at Nanook.
While Welt looks calm on the outside, the man is freaking out internally. How did this happen in the first place? You were supposed to be safe and sound under his watch, but you suddenly disappeared without a trace, and no one was able to reach out to you or track you down. Not even the Aeon of Destruction is able to track you down, and the Aeon has connections with you— well, had a connection with you.
“What are we going to do now, Mr. Yang? Searching for [Y/N] seems impossible at this point,” Caelus says, plopping down on the chair and running his hands through his hair.
Jing Yuan shakes his head. “I’ll have Yanqing lead the Cloud Knights to search throughout the Xianzhou Luofu,” Jing Yuan says, taking his phone from the table and sending rapid texts to his blond retainer.
Gepard nods. “And I will have the Silvermane Guards patrol the Overworld and the Underworld. If they see [Y/N], their duty is to detain [Y/N] until we arrive to get them,” says Gepard as he grabs his phone to message Dunn.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Detain [Y/N]? As in, keep them in cuffs and behind bars?!” Sampo exclaims, propping his hands on his hips, and looks at Gepard with disbelief.
Gepard, Welt, Nanook, and Dan Heng sigh simultaneously, rubbing their temples and pinching the bridge of their noses after hearing Sampo’s question. March snorts, rolling her eyes. The door to the Parlor Car opens. Pom-Pom waddles into the room, his eyes scanning the Parlor Car for a familiar face other than the ones that are present. 
Pom-Pom sighs with disappointment. “I see that none of you have found [Y/N],” Pom-Pom says, crossing his arms over his chest.
Himeko gives Pom-Pom a sympathetic look. “Sorry, Pom-Pom, but we still haven’t found them. They’re not answering our texts or phone calls, and not even Nanook can contact them,” Himeko replies.
Pom-Pom sighs and waddles to the Phonograph, pressing his forehead against the machine. A dark stormy cloud looms over Pom-Pom’s head as he lets out a string of whimpers and sniffles. Everyone on the Astral Express nearly forgot about how close you and Pom-Pom are. The closeness between you two is adorable, and Pom-Pom treats you like his favorite passenger on the Astral Express. Well, you are his favorite passenger. There’s no denying it. Sometimes, when everyone is asleep, you would keep Pom-Pom company and spoil him with his favorite snacks.
Of course, that was before Nanook became a passenger on the Express. Now you would keep Pom-Pom company on the nights you can’t sleep or when Nanook isn’t on the Astral Express due to his duty as the Aeon of Destruction.
“Pom-Pom?” March asks softly.
Pom-Pom turns to face them, his eyes blurred with tears. “How could all of you fail to protect someone that protected me!?” Pom-Pom wails, tears cascading down his cheeks. “What if we never see them again? They could be in danger!”
Everyone looks away, their shoulders slumping. Pom-Pom’s right. They did fail to protect you— this is the second time they failed to protect you, and they wish they could turn back time and prevent it from happening.
“There’s nothing to worry about. We’ll find [Y/N] and bring [Y/N] back to the Astral Express, alright?” Luka says, kneeling in front of Pom-Pom and patting the conductor’s head.
Pom-Pom whimpers. “But what if they’re injured?” Pom-Pom whispers.
“Then I will do everything in my power to heal them,” Luocha answers.
You’re rudely awoken by the sharp pain in your lower abdomen. You gasp and sit up, letting out a strained gasp and whimper. You look down at your body, now realizing the state you’re in. You don’t remember what exactly happened, but the more you look at your surroundings, the more you start piecing things together. You were attacked by the Mara-struck. It happened so fast that you weren’t able to comprehend what happened before it was too late.
And now you’re here, on Cloudford, bleeding out, going in and out of consciousness, with no cell signal to call or text your traveling companions. You can’t even contact Nanook due to the severed connection between you and the Aeon of Destruction. No matter how many times you lose consciousness, Nanook isn’t there— even if you scream his name, bloody murder. You will always be in the void, alone and searching for the Aeon that brought you into his universe.
You sprawl out on the ground, digging your phone from your pockets. Your vision blurs every few minutes, making it hard for you to do your task. You turn your phone on, attempting to call the first person on your contact list. Blade.
You tried to call Blade, but the call didn’t go through. You tried calling every person on your contact list, but the call continues not to go through. You push yourself off the ground, nearly slipping on the pool of blood beneath you. It’s a miracle that you manage to hold on for so long. The question is: how much longer can you hold on? Black dots dotting your vision, you’re extremely tired, your eyelids are threatening to close, and your legs and arms are tingling.
“I can do this, I can do this,” you chanted, limping as far away as you can. “I’ll be okay. I’ll be okay.”
You’re not sure if giving yourself a false sense of hope is going to do any better. Still, it’s better to do that than lay in your puddle of blood, watching the time tick away and your life slipping from your fingers. With each step you take, you feel your strength slipping away. You’re exhausted, and everything hurts. The Mara-struck did not go easy on you until they assumed you were dead. 
As much as you wanted to blame yourself for not being careful enough, there’s no one else to blame. Not even yourself. People will blame you for not being careful and watching your surroundings, but is it really your fault? The Mara-struck are ruthless, and they’ll attack anyone and anything that is alive and not Mara-struck like them.
You’re brought out of your thoughts and self-pity when your foot gets caught over the other, sending you to the ground with a loud thump. You let out a screech of pain and remain on the ground as every part of your body is stinging and throbbing with pain. The small cuts on your body reopen as fresh blood oozes from the wounds, spilling to the ground.
“Please, just end my misery,” you whisper, tears rolling down your bloodstained cheeks as you slowly drift in and out of consciousness.
The faint sound of buzzing coming from your phone wakes you up. You gingerly turn your head to see the screen of your phone lighting up and vibrating. You reach for your phone and roll over on your side to see Blade calling you. You swipe to the green button and hear a faint scream and frantic voices coming from the other end of the call.
“Blade?” You croak, wincing when you feel how dry your throat feels.
Blade sighs in relief on the other side of the call. “Thank the Aeons, you’re okay. Where are you? Are you safe?” Blade asks.
You chuckle bitterly, close your eyes and continue to lie on the ground. At least you’ll be able to hear their voices one last time, right? It’s better to listen to their voice before…. Someone calls your name, grabbing your attention.
“Huh? Sorry, I didn’t catch onto what you were saying,” you mumble, squeezing your eyes shut and fighting back a whimper that’s crawling up your throat.
“[Y/N], please tell us where you are. We’re very worried about you,” Dan Heng says.
You sniffle. The pain is beginning to feel unbearable. Everything hurts so much, and you want someone or something to end your pain and suffering already. You shouldn’t have played dead when the Mara-struck attacked you for who knows how long. You should’ve let them end you right then and there so you wouldn’t have to continue to suffer like how you are right now.
“[Y/N]? Are you still with us?” Caelus asks, his voice crackling through the speakers.
Fuck. Is the connection starting to act up?
“Yeah, yeah. I’m still here,” you reply, black dots dotting your vision. Is it normal to see a small burst of stars in your eyes each time you blink? “Sorry, I’m not feeling well right now.”
The other end of the call falls silent after hearing your response. As of now, Jing Yuan and Gepard haven’t received any reports from the Silvermane Guards and Cloud Knights about finding you. 
The General of the Xianzhou Luofu and the Captain of the Silvermane Gaurds text their trusted companions regarding the search, only for Dunn and Yanqing to reply that they have yet to find out despite the number of Cloud Knights and Silvermane Guards scrambling to find you. 
Mr. Yang walks over to Blade and takes the phone from his hands. “Sweetheart, can you look at your surroundings and tell us where you are? Even if you don’t know the precise location, do you know whether you’re on the Xianzhou Luofu or Jarilo-VI?” Mr. Yang asks.
“I’m on, uh, the Xianzhou Luofu. The Mara-struck…” you trail off, closing your eyes. Your hands are shaking— you don’t think you can hold your phone up any longer. Your arms feel awfully weak, and your phone feels heavy.
Jing Yuan’s voice crackles over the speakers. “What happened with the Mara-struck?”
Jing Yuan sounds frantic.
You shrug, completely forgetting that the others can’t see you. “They attacked me out of nowhere. They left me for dead, and there’s blood. So much blood,” you whisper, cracking your eyes open and looking at your surrounding.
“[Y/N], can you turn on the video call so we can see where you are?” Gepard asks, his voice crackling in the speakers.
You sigh, gritting your teeth as you turn on the video call. Your face appears on the screen— if you weren’t bleeding out and losing consciousness every few minutes, you would be gasping in horror at the sight of your reflection. Dear Aeons, you look horrendous. You blindly show your surroundings for the men to see where you’re at, but you don’t think you’re doing it correctly. Your arm soon grew tired, and your arms collapsed beside you.
“I’m really sleepy, guys,” you whisper, swallowing the lump in your throat. You nearly gagged when you tasted a mouthful of blood. You don’t know how much more you can hold on until they find you.
“Does anyone recognize that area? We’re not from the Xianzhou Luofu— nothing looks familiar for us,” Sampo mutters, gazing at the others worriedly.
Luocha steps forward and takes Blade’s phone from Mr. Yang’s grasp. “I know this is going to be complicated for you, but do not fall asleep, alright? Keep your eyes open and try to stop the bleeding. We’ll be right there soon,” Luocha instructs.
The men hear and see nothing coming from Blade’s phone. The camera is pointed to the sky of  the Xianzhou Luofu— they see the color of your hair peeking in the corner. You rub your eyes and press your hands against the deep gash on your abdomen. You lift your head to see various cuts on your body. All are bleeding.
You whisper, “Which ones do I cover? There’s too many,” you mumble, gazing at the gashes with bleary eyes. 
You let your head fall back on the ground, attempting to cover up as many as you can. How much longer are you going to hold on? You can hear a commotion coming through Blade’s phone as you lie on the ground, your phone lying beside your head. You didn’t think you could die in a universe you didn’t belong to.
“Stay on the phone with us, alright? We’ll be there soon, we promise,” you hear Blade say through the phone.
You can’t tell if Blade is panicking or not. He sounds so far away, no matter how close your phone is to your ears. How could this have happened anyway? It was all your fault, wasn’t it? Were you reckless like last time? No, no. Last time, the Astral Express was under attack. But this time, you left the Astral Express and ended up getting attacked by the Mara-struck. And now look at you, bleeding out on the Xianzhou Luofu while trying to stay conscious.
“You’re not mad at me, are you?” You whisper, staring at the clear blue sky above you.
Luka grunts. “We’re not mad at you, [Y/N]. We’re very worried about you,” Luka replies.
Luka is trying his best to remain calm, but his heart is racing against his chest to the point he fears it might burst. 
You close your eyes, feeling nausea hitting you. “Is Nanook mad at me?” you ask weakly.
Dan Heng looks at Nanook from the corner of his eyes as they run through Cloudford, searching for you. It’s just them racing against the clock to get to where you are— racing against the clock to save you. But will they make it on time before you lose consciousness?
Dan Heng shakes his head. “I’m sure he’s not mad at you, [Y/N]. Why do you think that?”
You crack a smile. “I… Nanook and I aren’t connected with each other anymore. Did I do something wrong for him to sever that tie between us?” You whisper, tears blurring your vision. “If I did something to upset him, please let him know that I’m sorry for whatever it is that I have done to upset him.”
Nanook snatches the phone and gazes into the camera, his gold eyes searching for your face. “I’m not mad at you, little one. However, if you lose consciousness, I will be upset with you,” Nanook states.
You laugh weakly, tears rolling down the side of your face. “I’m sorry, everyone. I’m sorry for not being strong enough,” you whisper.
Just when you lose consciousness, you feel someone cradle you in their arms. Your vision slowly turns black as the voices around you fade away— almost sounding like you’re underwater, sinking deeper into the depths.
“No, no, no, no! Please don’t leave me,” Nanook whispers, pressing you against his chest.
Your head lolls back, laying limp in his arms as blood continues to pour out of your wounds. Luocha kneels before you and Nanook, frantically trying to heal the cuts and deep gashes on your body. Sampo, March, and Himeko look nauseous at the sight of the pool of blood below you and Nanook.
March looked away, closing her eyes as a stray tear made its way down her cheeks. “Please tell me [Y/N]’s going to be okay, please,” March pleads.
Nanook presses his index and middle finger against the side of your neck, frantically searching for a pulse. Nanook buries his face into your neck, his body wracking with sobs as he holds onto you tighter. You can’t be gone. Please, please, please, please. Luocha’s hands fall to his side, and he looks away. 
“Well?” Dan Heng demands, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.
Luocha shakes his head, tears rolling down his flushed cheeks. Luocha grabs your cold hand and presses a kiss on your knuckles. Maybe in another lifetime, you will meet them again. But for now, stars don’t live on forever.
Note: Just because this is angst with death doesn't mean it impacts the overall HSR isekai series. This is a mini-fic, and to make it up to all of you, I will make a Nanook smut for this upcoming week! Yes, smut is finally here! Nanook got the majority of votes. Therefore Nanook is the first HSR male character to be getting smut! As I have stated in my Genshin Isekai fics, the fics in the series are like my multi-verse. Anything can happen in these fics, but it will not significantly impact the overall series. So, even if something traumatic happened to the reader in one fic, the next fic, it never happened to the reader. Some things will impact the story, but others won't be mentioned in other fics. For those who want to be on the taglist, here is the [Google Form]. For those who want to join the Discord server but weren't able to, here is the new temporary link to [Zhongli's Abode]! Please make sure to read the server rules— you can lurk, chat and hang out on the server if you'd like! If you don't vibe with the server, you can leave whenever you want ^^ To my new and/or returning readers, please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!
Taglist for the HSR one-shot series: @mompt2, @elegantnightblaze, @lunavixia, @jadedist, @reversearrowhead, @pinksaiyans, @aurelia-xyt, @lilliansstuff, @ssunset0, @starrry-angel, @kaoyamamegami, @kodzuvk, @for3very0urs, @a-cosmicdawn, @g3n0dtt, @theblades, @raaawwwr, @immahuman, @irisxiel, @siaracarroll, @crazydreamcat, @sagekun, @orichalcumthief, @dyingsweetmackerel, @rosiesareblue, @ichikanu, @hispasian-otaku, @asoulsreverie (Accounts that I was unable to tag are not tagged in this fic. Those who do not want to be tagged in a specific fic are not tagged. Remember to check your settings to see if you're allowing people to mention you/tag you in posts or not)
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shhhsecretsideblog · 2 months
Text
No Time To Hide
This was something I wrote for an Imagine You’re Pregnant prompt, original post here. Thought I’d make a side blog and post it here as well cos I really enjoyed writing this and might be tempted to write more birth fics
Eva opened the wooden window of her small cottage, letting the cool autumn air whip through her hair. The smell of woodland and damp grass filled her nostrils as she took a long, calming breath.
Describing herself as a green witch, Eva loved her little cottage hidden away from everyone deep within the rich forest. Coven life was never something that appealed to her; the idea of being constantly surrounded by other witches, their opinions and their magic, was torture for Eva. She much preferred her own company, free to live her life the way she wanted. Free to use her own style of magic, without the distraction or judgement of others. It was why she decided to live here in the heart of the forest. There was a river that flowed through the centre of the woodland, the ancient trees stood tall around her home, and the forest floor was packed with all manner of plant life. It was perfect; just her, the elements and Mother Nature.
Despite her preference of living alone, as time passed Eva began to yearn for something… it wasn’t romance or friendship, but the idea of a child. Children were never something she had considered, but as she grew older Eva had begun to see the benefit of having children. Someone to pass all her knowledge and wisdom to, someone to love and care for and share all that she’d learnt. She wanted to pass on this way of living, to create a legacy.
A few months ago, nine to be exact, she enchanted a local townsman - not that he would ever remember it. And now here she was, rocking side to side and cradling the underneath of her heavily pregnant stomach, preparing herself as birth drew near.
The cramps had started yesterday afternoon, small and barely noticeable at first. Eva had been terribly uncomfortable these last few weeks, suffering constant aches and twinges, so she did not immediately give them any thought. However when they got sharper and more frequent, forcing her to pause whatever she was doing, they soon got her full attention.
Not knowing how long this could take but knowing she would eventually lose mobily as her labour progressed, she collected all her preparations and got the supplies ready. Blankets, towels, sterilised medical equipment, all within easy reach in the main living room. Snacks and drinks lay available on the coffee table and a pot of hot water sat by the open fire keeping a constant warm temperature.
“Mmmnnngghhhhh” Eva moaned deeply as the latest wave peaked. She leaned forward resting her elbows on the window sill, jutting her hips back and swaying them slightly. The baby was low and heavy in her pelvis, the head pressing downwards as her body slowly opened up.
When the latest pain had eased Eva straightened and looked down at her swollen stomach, speaking lovingly towards her unborn babe. “You’re really coming aren’t you little one? I’ve not done this before so please take it easy on me.” Her child responded with a gentle kick prompting the witch to smile.
Over the next few hours Eva got into a good rhythm riding out the contractions, each one hitting sooner than the last and with incrementally more vigour. She paced, rocked, squatted, kneeled, trying to find any comfortable position to ride out the waves. Her low and heavy stomach made moving from position to position cumbersome; one hand staying on her bump or her lower back at any given time, while the other kept her supported on whatever furniture or surface was nearby.
As the contractions ramped up, creeping steadily towards unbearable, the witch’s teeth clenched tight and she growled behind them. Three minutes apart. Holding on to the back of her armchair Eva lowered herself into a deep squat. Sweat covered every inch of her body, her thin linen dress and underwear clinging to every curve of her fertile frame.
Her hips were in agony, the pressure building. She opened her mouth to wail but no sound came out, shocked into silence by a sudden burst between her open thighs. Immediately the pressure eased and Eva could catch her breath again. The wooden floor below her feet was soaked; her waters had broken.
“Oooooooh okay- We’re getting so close- Are you ready to come out now baby? I cannot wait to meet you.”
Eva stood up, cradling the curve of her spasming bump. Her bare feet stepped ungainly out of the puddle on the floor and she quickly threw a tea towel down to soak up the worst of it.
“It’s just you and me, little one. We can do this.” Eva reassured herself, rubbing circles around her swell, preparing for the intensity to soar now her waters had gone.
However, before the next contraction could strike the witch startled at the sudden loud interruption of ringing bells. Rapid and urgent, the piercing chimes echoed all around her cottage, howling through every room.
Witch hunter!
The enchantments set up around her hidden home in the forest hadn’t gone off in decades - she had almost forgotten the wards were still in place. And yet the incessant ringing immediately chilled her to her very bones, suddenly haunting her with long forgotten memories of the brutal murders of her fellow witches.
Her stomach clenched with a new, different sensation - fear. At any other time Eva would arm herself with weapons and potions and storm outside on the offence, making sure to take down her enemy before he had the opportunity to strike. But now… the pressing weight in her hips and the constant aching of her contracting womb showed she was in no position to attack, or even defend herself, if put up against a murderous witch hunter.
She had to get out of here. The warning bells throughout her home would soon reach the ears of the witch hunter and then he would beeline straight to her hidden sanctuary. She needed to find somewhere else to hide.
Distracted by the chimes, Eva was unprepared for the next contraction when it ripped across her body, rooting her to the spot. She doubled over in pain, palms planted firmly on her thighs.
“Unnnhhhhhhhhhhhh no-no-no-no……” she whimpered through strained breaths as the pain skyrocketed and her belly hardened. Panting heavily the witch ignored growing desire to bear down. Her waters had broken, she was probably almost fully dilated, if not already. But she couldn’t stay here. If she stayed, both her and her child would certainly be killed. She had to leave and find somewhere safe to deliver this baby.
After what felt like an eternity, the contraction finally faded and she bolted straight out the back door of her cottage, leaving barefoot with nothing but the clothes on her back. She had wasted precious minutes since the warning alarm riding out that last pain - she couldn’t afford to waste any more time gathering supplies to take with her. Eva took off as quickly as she could, disappearing deep into the lush green forest.
She barely got out of sight behind the first set of oak trees before another contraction was already upon her. Two minutes apart. Leaning against the rough bark of the nearest tree, Eva squeezed her eyes shut and tried hard to swallow the whimper creeping out her throat. The unbearable pressure was demanding in its silent request and her knees trembled with the effort of ignoring it. The baby was so heavy, and dangerously low. Feeling like it would just fall out if she took a step too wide. Yet she remained strong, persevering and weathering the storm in her uterus, determined to keep this baby inside of her until she got somewhere safe.
The second the pain let up an inch the witch was on the move again running as fast as she could across the forest floor. Over ferns and moss, rocks and fallen branches, thankfully the hardened soles of her bare feet were used to the uneven terrain. She made sure to keep off the main footpath and stayed hidden within the dense trees, but it made for more of an obstacle course than she’d like. With added weight of her labouring belly she couldn’t move at speed and on a few occasions nearly lost her balance. But deeper and deeper into the forest she went.
The trees became her allies, providing cover and support when she was forced to stop with each new powerful contraction… 90 seconds apart... 60 seconds apart. A large, ancient willow tree with an unusually curved trunk was the latest comrade in her fight for survival. Eva had pitched herself within the alcove of the trunk, out of sight and leaning back against the bark, lifting the weight of her hardened stomach with both hands. The long hanging branches brushed the forest floor in a circle around her position, hiding the witch behind a nature-made curtain.
“Grnnnhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” Eva could no longer hold in the animalistic sounds of her extremely advanced labour. The baby was right there, nestled deep in her widened cervix, desperate to be born.
“Nooooooooo-please-baby-wait-a-bit-moreeeeeee-” she begged through gritted teeth. The next contraction started before the current had even finished and the need to push was too powerful to refrain. Knees bending and thighs widening, Eva’s body pushed of its own accord.
It felt right, pushing. It was what she was meant to be doing - to follow nature's primal instinct. And yet she couldn’t forget the very real threat of the witch hunter, still hidden somewhere in this forest, poised and primed to kill her.
The fierce contraction continued to hold her hostage. A long grunt escaped her mouth as her body pushed along with the pain.
“I can hear you, witch!” A gravelled voice taunted from across the thick forest.
Eva’s eyes widened and immediately clamped her mouth shut, biting her lips together drawing blood. Half squatting against the tree, every muscle in her body continued to strain as it forced the baby lower and lower and lower. She couldn’t stop pushing even if she tried. One of the hands cradling her stomach shakily ventured south, lifting up her dress and feeling between her legs. Through the thin damp fabric of her underwear she could feel the baby’s head begin to enter the world.
She panted silently, tears streaming down her cheeks. The forest stretched out for miles, completely uninhabited in all directions; she was all alone. There was nowhere to go and no one to help. Heavily pregnant, being hunted, and seconds away from birthing this child.
A loud snap of wood echoed from a few metres away. Eva suddenly bolted like a startled deer, consumed entirely by fear and survival, and disappeared again into the thickened wood. She ran, wide legged, the heavy boulder of a baby’s head deep in her pelvis screaming to be born. Push! Her body cried out. Stop running and PUSH!
But she couldn’t. If she stopped she’d be dead.
Another contraction ripped through her as she ran. 30 seconds apart. Her muscles tensed and squeezed as she ran, her body trying to force the baby out despite the mother’s desire to hold on a bit longer. She could barely stay upright, the raw adrenaline no longer enough to keep this birth at bay. Her legs became jelly, all she could feel was pain and pressure and fear. Eva faltered, she couldn’t go any further. Out in the open she planted her hands against the nearest tree, widening her stance, and pushed. Hard.
“Mnnnnnnnrrrrgggggghhhhhhh!!!”
More of her baby’s head began to appear behind the fabric of her tight underwear.
“Ohhhhhhhhhh-Hecateeeeeeeeeeee!” she whimpered, praying to the deity.
Her baby was close to fully crowning, she could feel it. The white hot agony of being widened and stretched beyond anything she imagined made her eyes water and throat nauseous. She retched, a dry heave, and desperately tried to catch a breath through the dual need to push and the sudden urge to vomit. The texture of the rough bark beneath her palms was the only thing keeping the witch semi-grounded and preventing her getting swept away in the overwhelming sensations currently tearing her body apart. Still bracing the tree, Eva’s head dipped as she took slow deep breaths, ignoring the instinct to push in order to ride out the sudden nausea.
An ominous whistling sound drifted through the trees carried on the wind. Eva could barely hear it over the thundering beating of her heart, that is until she heard:
“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” The voice sang.
The witch hunter was close. But so was her baby... Eva felt between her legs again to evaluate just how bad her situation was. It was bad. Her underwear was stretched beyond repair as it housed a significant portion of her baby’s head, filling her cupped palm. Ignoring all the pain and her body’s pleas to push, she panted heavily and tried to think! She needed a plan to survive.
The witch hunter had physical strength, yes, but he did not know these woods like Eva did. This was her home, her sanctuary, and she knew every inch like the back of her hand. Beyond her laboured breaths and the unnerving whistling of the approaching witch hunter, Eva registered another sound nearby - the swooshing sound of running water. The river - she was by the river!
Lifting her head the witch frantically scanned the surrounding area, getting her bearings of where she’d ended up within the woodland. She was a few hundred yards from the river’s edge, about a mile from her cottage. It wasn’t an area she often visited because of…. That’s it! Okay, it wasn’t a great plan, and there was no way to know if it would work, but it was her only shot of survival.
She took a steadying breath through the current contraction squeezing her womb, fighting once more against the primal need to push. The baby’s head filled her underwear, millimetres from a full crown. If she pushed again there was no way she’d be able to stop until the head was fully born.
Whimpering through the pain Eva stood up straight, one hand staying between her legs, and she prepared herself to move. Just get to the river. She told herself before making her way unsteadily east.
The sound of rushing water grew louder as she stumbled slowly through the forest. One step. Another step. Nearly there. She knew exactly where to go, and where to avoid, desperately trying to stay focussed on her surroundings and not succumb to the agonising pain crowning between her thighs. Keep going.
“You can’t escape me, witch!” The voice threatened, getting closer.
Eva stumbled into the side of a tree, her bare shoulder scraping against the bark. Pausing, she took a brief moment to breathe through the pain. It was a mistake. The second she stopped to inhale deeply her body started bearing down again, forcing the baby down. Immediately the head came to a full crown in her damp underwear and she screamed.
“WITCH!” The murderous voice roared.
Eva turned and saw a flash of black leather through the distant trees, and it was coming her way. Cupping the baby’s head she tentatively wobbled forwards, knees trembling, staggering towards the riverbank. The blinding pain was constant, her eyes barely focussing. She had to make it to the exact right spot or her plan would certainly fail. Her footsteps were shaky but determined as she continued the last few carefully placed steps in her journey. Behind her the crunching sound of a disturbed forest floor drew ever closer.
Reaching the river’s edge Eva collapsed against the large boulder that sat on the grassy bank. She made it. Turning around against the stone, the cold granite pressed against her back as she faced the woods and waited for the imminent arrival of the witch hunter. But the baby’s head inched lower, her body stretched to its absolute limit. She wanted to cry, to howl, to scream. Instead she focussed inward, drawing on all the power from the earth under her feet, and taking a deep breath she finally, and intentionally, followed her body’s demands. Teeth gritted, a growl behind them, she pushed with everything she had. Her whole body trembled, bearing down against the pressure of the large round head slowly appearing between her thighs. The ears… a nose… she could feel it all. Her hands frantically scrambled under her dress and within seconds the baby’s head popped out into her underwear and she cupped it quickly within her palm. The relief was instant and for a brief moment Eva’s heart calmed as she held her child’s newly born crown.
The witch’s reprieve was short-lived as the approaching footsteps from behind one of the nearby trees resulted in another person soon entering the river's edge. The witch hunter was dark haired, full beard, but was not as athletic as Eva was expecting. There was sweat glistening on his temple and dripping down his neck, disappearing beneath a thick leather jacket. His mouth practically drooled at the sight of her and he gripped the long hunting knife in his hand. The lust for her death was haunting.
“At last… you’ve given it a good go, I’ll give you that, but you cannot escape your fate.” The man said as he took a step towards her, threateningly swishing the knife in readiness. “You are an abomination, evil incarnate. Witchcraft has no place here. My family has been taking your lot out for centuries. And it looks like I get the honour of not only killing you… but the next generation as well.” He glared at her pregnant swell.
“No- no! This- this child is innocent…” Eva panted, still holding the head of her half-born babe hidden under the draped fabric of her dress.
The witch hunter scoffed and took another two ominous steps in her direction through the fallen autumn leaves. Eva watched each step with a laser focus.
“No descendant of a witch is truly innocent.” He drawled, tilting his head with an unnerving animalistic incline. “Wickedness will run through its veins, there is no saving its soul.”
Eva couldn’t take her eyes off his feet, watching every step he took. She chose this location for a reason, knowing she needed to end up exactly here by the rivers edge - dangerously using herself as bait. His heavy boots crunched through the orange leaves, sauntering slowly towards her like he was toying with his prey. So close. Her heart stopped, breath held as Eva prayed to all the Goddesses for her plan to work. Then whoosh!
The witch hunter was suddenly hoisted in the air by his foot, caught in a primitive trap laid here many years ago by the previous inhabitants of these woods, whom were long dead and forgotten. The man roared as he was pulled sharply towards the sky, his arms flailing, the hunting knife falling from his hand in his shock.
Eva exhaled heavily and closed her eyes in pure relief. The steady thumping of heart pulsed around her body, beating once more now the immediate threat disappeared. The man yelled and shouted at her as he hung limply from the tree, but the sound barely registered with the witch. Her senses had been overtaken by the sudden movement of the baby, turning inside her, and an all too familiar urgent weight pressing down signalling her work was not yet over.
Eva tried to move but she was too far gone, too deep in labour, every muscle seemingly locked in position. “Unhhhhhhhh Hecate….. mnnnggghhhhh the baby- the baby is comingg…..” she whimpered, the pain splitting her in half as she was stretched once more with the baby’s shoulders. All her bodyweight was pressed back against the boulder, and she managed to sink towards the ground. Squatting deeply, her large rounded stomach rested heavily between her thighs.
“Ohhhh it’s coming…. I- need… mnghhhhhhhh I’ve got to… got to pushh...”
She ripped off her underwear as the next contraction started, freeing the baby’s head from the confines of the damp linen. With both hands ready to catch, the witch pushed with renewed determination. “Urghhhhhhhhhhhh!” One shoulder was out! Then the next shoulder. She took a breath, panting, holding the child dangling from her body. Eva became suddenly hyper-aware of the breeze and leaves, the nearby river and the crisp autumn air, all the elements surrounding them which her child was now being born directly into. Trembling, she beared down fiercely once more and within another few minutes a newly born witch entered the world.
Eva sobbed with relief, quickly pulling her daughter up over her stomach and placing her against her chest. The infant made a soft gurgling sound, her first breath, and then started to cry. To a new mother it was the most beautiful and reassuring sound in the world.
“Disgusting…. Filthy little vermin.” The witch hunter sneered with venom.
Eva had forgotten her audience and looked up with hatred at the man still swinging upside down from the tree. She held her baby tight and secure against her skin, as if shielding the child from the mere sight of him.
“You should drown that thing in the river.” He spat.
Red, blinding fury overwhelmed the new mother. With the pain gone and her baby safe in arms, pure fury raced through every pore of the witch’s body, consuming every atom of her being. Rising slowly, babe still clutched in hand, Eva approached the hanging man with eyes glowing with revenge.
“When I get free, I'm gonna enjoy splitting you from ear to ear!” He roared.
Her head tilted in observation watching the man’s disgusting arrogance in his determination to kill her despite still struggling against the rope binding his leg. Apparently unaware his threats were idle and his attempts to escape the trap were futile.
The witch bent down carefully to pick up the large silver blade that had fallen amongst the browning leaves. The man didn’t see the new mother pick up his weapon, and didn't notice the switch when the hunted became the hunter. Eva stalked silently, murderously towards the hanging man.
Before he could open his mouth to mock or belittle or challenge her, Eva’s hand swished past his vision in a flash, the blade gliding through the witch hunter's throat like a knife through butter. The man’s eyes widened, taking a heartbeat to register what just happened, before the cascade of blood erupted from the open wound and he began to choke and splutter.
Eva dropped the knife.
Delicately readjusting and shhhing the newborn cradled in her arm, she took one final look and started their journey back to the cottage. Eva found comfort in the sounds of the forest; of the flowing river, the whistle of a breeze, and the drip drip dripping of her enemies blood now pooling onto the forest floor.
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sarawritestories · 25 days
Text
Look Up at the Stars
Cassian X Fem Reader
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Summary: Your refusal to take care of yourself while Cassian is away has your friends worried that you're being too hard on yourself. And tell the General as much so he forces you to slow down and reminds you why self care is important.
Dedicated to @milswrites and @lady-of-tearshed who are always scolding me to take care of myself.
Content warning: overworking, not taking care of yourself,
Cassian landed on the balcony of your shared home where he was surprised to see your two dear friends, Milly and Eve, waiting for him. Brows furrowed as he noticed your evident absence.
"She's doing it again." Eve clipped, sipping her tea. "She won't listen." Cassian let out a sigh before pinching the bridge of his nose.
Milly rose from her chair and gripped his arm, "She's been in the library at the House of Wind for days Rhysand, even when he has given her explicit orders have not gotten her out of there." She worried her bottom lip with her teeth, and Cassian instinctively placed his hand on top of hers.
"You two are good friends, you know that, right? She is lucky to have you both."
Eve smiled, "We're lucky to have her. Now go get her, bring her home."
Before the General moved, he smiled, "Will you two do something for me before you go?" The two females smirked deviously as Cassian began to tell him his idea.
✨️✨️✨️
Guilt laced your whole body. You had yet to turn in those reports you promised Rhys a week ago. What good were you in his court if you couldn't even reach the deadlines you placed for yourself. Worst than that when you saw him last, he only looked worried for you. Was livid when you ignored his direct order to go home. One look into your pleading eyes had him back off and leave with an exasperated sigh and you knew Cassian would hear about it.
The gold thread tying you to your mate was still blocked on his end, meaning that he was still away maybe you would be able to still fin-
"Someone has been busy while I was away." The low timbre of Cassian's voice elicited tears from your eyes. It had been a few months since you saw him last. Turning around, his hazel eyes were bright, and a beard had grown in since he left, and the sight of him alone caused heat to grow in your belly. "Hello, Sweetheart."
You dropped everything and leaped into his arms. He held you close, opening the bond to let his love flood your system. "I missed you." You held him tighter, "I thought you were still away."
"Rhysand wrote to me. He had concerns. Milly and Eve expressed those same concerns when I got home." You pulled away to meet his loving gaze only to find worry there.
"Work comes fir-
"You come first. Always." Cassian's tone was clipped. "In my life, you are my number one priority. You should be making time for yourself, too."
Heat rose to your cheeks. You knew he was right. You two had argued over this multiple times before. "But I-
Cassian interrupted you once more, only this time he sealed his lips to your own. You hummed, not remotely bothered by the beard scratching against your skin. He pulled away, and you pressed your forehead to his own, taking in his scent or the fact he still held you in his arms. "I'm not listening to you being stubborn. We can argue over your work habits another day. I missed my mate. So we're going home. Understand?" You nodded as your eyes fluttered close. "Good." He turned and you watched the stack of papers become smaller as he walked out of the library.
✨️✨️✨️
You walked out of the bathroom post shower and into the shared bedroom where Cassian was out of his leathers and into a black t-shirt and lounge pants. He looked so handsome you forgot these last few months how beautiful he truly was. "Feel better?" He asked, quirking a brow as he met your gaze.
You did feel better to be clean. Cassian had set out his favorite nightgown of yours; red silk and had a bath set up with your favorite soaps and salts. "I feel like me again."
Cassian walked over and kissed your lips. "Good." His wings blocked the view of the balcony, as they were splayed wide. "I have a surprise for you." He held up a blind fold, and you raised an eyebrow. "Not that," though he got low, your noses were touches, "You and I are off for the next two weeks. That's plenty of time to make sure my mate is properly fucked." He winked and your heart sputtered.
Cassian placed the blindfold over your eyes and led you to his desired destination. Your feet hit cold concrete, and the summer breeze of the night air tickled your skin. Cassian removed the blindfold, and you gasped. Your balcony had a mountain of blankets, pillows, and your favorite snacks. Movement in the sky caught your eye as a shooting star flew across the sky. Then another. "There are supposed to be a cluster of falling stars tonight. Watch them with me?"
You turned to the male, smile wide, and your hand cupped his cheek. "Of course! I don't know what to say except." You kissed him, "I fall deeper in love with you, with every day that passes."
"Me too, Sweetheart." He kissed your forehead, "My beautiful, stubborn, hardworking mate." He kissed your nose, and you giggled and Cassian's eyes lit up at the sound.
✨️✨️✨️
You spent the whole evening looking up at the Stars, your head on Cassian's chest as he rubbed circles on your back. He chuckled as you kept pointing to ever fallen star you saw. His smile grew when you moved to your own pillow, your hand finding his, as you looked to the sky in awe.
Cassian could care less about the stars in the sky. Your smile was what lit up Cassian's world.
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Good Omens: Lockdown and Crowley not mentioning his living situation in S2*
*till S2E6 when he asks if he can have his apartment back bc he's bored of living in his car but Aziraphale doesn’t hear bc mentally he’s in Alpha Centauri.
Having read the 'Crowley doesn't tell him' Neil Gaiman ask close to when I first listened to Lockdown (I lived under a rock until recently), my initial thought was HAS HE BEEN LIVING IN HIS CAR FOR YEARS?! but I think he was still in his apartment in 2020:
as far as Hell knows, Crowley just had a pool party in holy water (the holiest) so the higher-ups are probably willing to give him some space (plus Beelzebub is busy going on pub dates w Gabriel)
while there should be ~8 months between the end of Season 1 events (The Very First Day of the Rest of Their Lives on Sunday, Aug 25, 2019) and the Lockdown phonecall (on or near the 30 year anniversary on May 1, 2020), I can't imagine that's a very long time for Hell, especially if you're understaffed and busy dealing with fallout from Almostgeddon / going on pub dates
Shax dropping off mail and asking about the boiler seems like something one does in the first few months of living somewhere, not ~3 years in (if S2 is in 2023)
That said, I think the phone call underlines why Crowley never directly tells Aziraphale that he is living in the Bentley in S2, and it's just a great conversation (all hail Gaiman) sooo I wrote about it:
***Note: This post analyzes the Lockdown phonecall from Crowley's perspective only. Our heroine is feeling quite emotionally vulnerable at this point in time so things are going to hit him harder than they normally would.
I do not think Aziraphale meant to cause him pain (!!) but Crowley can't see that yet and I've written this post in a way that reflects that missing insight. (I explain in more detail in this reblog if you are interested) I am working on a companion post for Aziraphale's side of this conversation and how I think it affects his behavior in S2 because if we know anything about these two, it's that their exactlys are different exactlys.***
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Crowley’s habit of sleeping to skip time like an RPG character by a campfire amuses me to no end, but in this context it feels heavy. Crowley already worries about losing time with what he loves and he probably hoped things would be different between him and Aziraphale after the events of S1. But things don’t change much. Then lockdowns start, and Crowley is trapped in his apartment alone, transcendentally bored, and unable to make his brain shut up. Sleeping a month away starts to sound less awful.
But Crowley hasn’t given up yet; he’s still awake when Aziraphale calls, and he’s even giving it two more days. Was he waiting for Aziraphale to call? Is it even possible not to at least kind of wait for someone’s call when you are cut off from everything and the caller has been your only friend and crush for millennia?
Aziraphale asks why Crowley isn't "out and about" tempting people or setting a bad example and he responds:
C: Everyone's so miserable and cooped up right now anyway, and I just… well… don't have the heart for it. A: *glowing audibly* I'm not miserable~ C: Really?
Crowley sounds genuinely surprised at Aziraphale's happiness and quickly assumes it's because the angel has been around people. He's so lonely/depressed/in his own head that he hadn't even considered someone enjoying being 'cooped up'. *sob*
Aziraphale goes No actually I put the closed sign up in the window and I'm having the Time of My Life, never had so few customers, not in 200 years!, etc. Although, he says:
A: …There were a few young lads a couple of nights ago who broke in through the back and tried to steal the cashbox! But they soon saw the error of their ways~ C: *clearly amused* Did you smite them with your wroth? A: Well I certainly gave them a good talking to, and I sent each of them home with cake~ C: *annoyed, swooning* Cake? A: Quite a lot of cake, actually. C: *physically ill from having such a giant crush on this dumbass baker/security guard* eeeekkkgghhh I'm gonna regret asking but.. ...rrgh.. *30 seconds of Aziraphale joyfully describing his baking while Crowley probably tries very hard not to imagine the angel eating each item in sensual slow motion* I stg you can hear him struggling in the background once or twice
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A: …And once I've baked them, I have to eat them all myself, which was why I was so delighted— C: To send your burglars home laden with baked goods, yes, nnyeaayeah I follow…
Crowley interrupts, finishing Aziraphale's sentence in his nervous hurry to say the next bit:
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C: *loud inhale* You know, I could.. hunker down at your place. … Slither over and watch you eat cake. I could bring a bottle--a case of… something… drinkable…?
He's trying to sound so casual about it but this is someone who was rejected/abandoned by actual literal God after asking what he thought were welcome, uncontroversial questions. Asking makes him vulnerable. He's supposed to be the rescuer, not a demon in distress. He does not feel casual about asking.
Crowley knows it's unlikely but he's so miserable and desperate for company that he can't help but ask, just in case. Even the smallest chance of spending time trapped indoors with Aziraphale—with nothing to do but drink, watch him eat, and talk about things they'd normally avoid—is too tempting.
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A: *panicking* Oh I— I— I— I— I'm afraid that would be Breaking All The Rules! *nervous breathing* Out of the question! I'll see you… when this is over. C: Right. gnnehh. I'm setting the alarm clock for July. Good night, angel. *dial tone*
And just like that, Crowley doesn't need two days to decide. The depression nap doubles in length. He doesn't hear how badly Aziraphale wants to say yes behind the fear, or maybe he does and it hurts worse because why isn't Crowley enough for him? You can almost hear the spiralling:
SHOCKING, asking made it worse. It always does doesn’t it? Why even bother? you just embarrass yourself.. SLITHER over? why did I say that *grumble grumble* of COURSE His Holy Holiness, your only friend in the universe, would rather eat cake by himself while everything goes to shit than ~deign~ to have you in his presence. "AsK aND yE sHaLl ReCeIvE" bugger this for a lark im going to bed
(a bit dramatic but we've all been there)
I imagine sleep doesn't come right away. Maybe his thoughts drift to when he sat beside the angel at a dark Tadfield bus stop after a rather eventful Saturday. Crowley must've felt a tiny bit hopeful when he invited Aziraphale to stay with him: Heaven had withdrawn its favor and the bookshop was gone; Aziraphale was like him now. Didn't that mean things would change?
"I don't think my side would like that." Apparently not.
In the end, Aziraphale did ride the bus back to Crowley's apartment and stayed till the next morning when he caught a cab, but only to sell the illusion. Crowley understood that as far as sides went, the angel was still on Heaven's, even if Heaven wasn't on his.
And now this: the entire world is shut down; there is nothing for Aziraphale to do but stay in and read and bake in his magically reconstituted bookshop and he still won't invite Crowley in. Burglars and un-fallen angels only—nobody who asks questions.
So... of course Crowley doesn't tell Aziraphale when he loses his apartment. He already knows what answer he would get; the angel has told him so many times. Aziraphale is a company man first, a companion to one very sad owl when convenient.
If Crowley works up the courage to say 'please take me in, I have nowhere else to go' and Aziraphale goes 'sorry, no, far too political, but I WILL risk being erased from the Book of Life to protect this nude amnesiac former coworker who always hated me,' it's going to be too much. You can't sleep long enough for that type of hurt to go away. Better not to say anything.
"Then nothing has to change, does it?"
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notsoattractivearenti · 9 months
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I'm All Yours (Mason Mount x Fem!Reader) 🔞
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WC: 1.2K
Warnings: SMUT, oral sex (m receiving), curse and vulgar words. MINORS DNI
A/N: i think we all know why i wrote this one 🫣🤭 this was meant to be a fluff but somehow i started to write smutty lines and there was no turning back lmao blame mason. yes this is short, not proofread and i'm not good at writing smut btw so apologies in advance if this isn't decent 🫣 tho i hope you guys enjoy and i’d love to hear your thoughts thru ask/reply/reblog 🫶🏻 apologies for any errors! feedbacks are highly appreciated 🤍
After 5 weeks out because of the injury he picked up at the Spurs game in August, Mason was finally back on the field for a game against Crystal Palace for the EFL Cup. Throughout the recovery process, he was very determined to heal and get better than before because he didn’t like being away from the pitch for so long. All he wants is to give the new club and the fans the best performance – and getting injured was really upsetting for him, but he didn’t want to let it mess with his head. During his comeback game, he played really well during the first half before getting subbed off – he even did an assist from a corner kick which was perfectly finished by Casemiro with a header goal. Watching how he had gained his confidence back after injury and got to prove that he is a deserving addition to the team – unlike what some people said – made you feel even prouder than you’ve ever been of him.
When he went home after the game, he couldn’t stop telling you how good it felt to go back and win. He was also very happy he was able to make an assist, though he is now aiming for at least one goal for the next game.
“You know, Mase, the fans were very happy with how you played,” you told him with pride, “I’m delighted that you’re back, you were amazing.”
“Thank you, my love, I’ll keep trying to deliver. I’m going to give the best I can. For the fans, and most importantly you.” He smiled.
Little did the fans know, he had an advertisement video with Nike Underwear – which had been prepared from a while ago – and now ready to be posted. After the incredible game he just had the day before, uploading the video felt like perfectly timed to treat his fans. 
You weren’t present on the set when Mason and the Nike team shot the video, but you saw the pictures he had on his phone – for your benefit, he said teasingly. Since the first time he showed you those pictures, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of his phone. You slowly and carefully checked them out one by one, zoomed them in and out because you didn’t want to miss every little detail. 
“Fuck…” you panted.
“Mason… These are… Insanely hot.”
He was sitting next to you and noticed how your pupils were dilated, your breathing became heavy, and how you kept biting your lip – you were basically drooling over his pictures and he was really satisfied by your reaction.
“Uh, baby, you good?” He asked as he grinned cheekily.
“What?” You glanced at him for a second. “Oh, I...”
You couldn’t even finish your sentence. Those pictures just made you speechless – that man drove you crazy. And before you know it, you were feeling all hot and heavy and your pussy was dripping wet.
“Baby, I’m gonna need a minute…” You whimpered. “Now all that I think about is how bad I want to suck your dick and have your cum in my mouth. Thanks a lot, fucker.”
“Well…” he kissed your neck, then whispered in your ear, “I would very much love that.”
You looked at him and tried to make sure he really wanted you to give him a head. He assured you by unbuttoning his pants and pulled them down.
“Whenever you’re ready, Y/N.” 
You kissed him on the lips and immediately kneeled between his legs and started by rubbing his massive bulge to build up the arousal. Mason still had his boxers on, and when you felt his bulge became harder, you gently pulled them down.
The second his boxers came off, his dick was already fully erect and you couldn’t wait to have it inside your mouth. You started by spat on his hard dick and stroked it up and down. As your hand moved all over his dick, he bit his lip and let out a few moans.
“Mmm… Fuck… That feels good…”
You kept stroking and gave his dick tight squeezes a few times too.
“Y/N… Stop teasing, please…” He growled.
“Tell me what you want now, baby.”
“I want my cock… Inside your fucking mouth…” He begged.
You began by licking his dick up and down for a short while, then swirling your tongue on the tip. His breath hitched – the way your tongue felt around the head made his heart pound and he was feeling all flushed. You dipped your tongue into his slit, and he clenched both his fists and thighs. 
“Ohhh… F-f-fuck…” He panted.
With your hand still stroking, you slowly put his dick deep into your mouth. You started moving up and down at a slow pace, and gradually changed your pace. As you engulfed his dick within your sloppy mouth, he gripped your hair and you were making eye contact with him which he loves so much – he always thinks the eye contact made the action a lot sexier and he isn’t wrong.
“Don’t stop, baby…” He bit back a moan.
The faster and deeper you went, the more intense the waves of pleasure he had. When you moaned, he could feel the vibration coming from your throat and it gave a sexy touch.
“Y/N…”  he murmured, “I’m fucking close…”
The moment you heard him you sucked faster than before and his body began to shiver. He squeezed his eyes shut, soaking the pleasure in.
“Yeah, cum in my mouth.”
“I’m about to cu- ohhh…”
Suddenly, time stopped ticking and his vision faded to black. An explosion of pure bliss just hit and left him breathless. At that moment, he filled your mouth with his cum for you to swallow.
He lied on the bed and was breathing heavily, unable to speak even a word.
“Good fuck, Y/N,” he exhaled, “that was amazing.”
You got up and smiled, now about to clean up. “Mmhmm.”
As you cleaned up, you playfully asked him, “Mase, have you eaten a lot of fruits lately?”
He laughed. “Yeah, I think I have. Tasted sweet, didn’t it?”
You licked your lips – which were still covered with his cum – and nodded in agreement. “Love it.”
When the advertisement video was ready, he showed it to you before it got uploaded.
“Woah, you’re going to post this with no warning?” You jokingly asked.
“Yeah, no… Why?” He was confused for a moment.
“Mase, you do know how people are going to react, right? You’re literally wearing nothing but underwear and they can see your bulge? They’re going to go crazy, my love.”
He finally understood why and chuckled.
“Oh baby… I surely don’t mind.” He winked.
“Ugh, please.” You playfully rolled your eyes.
“Hey, don’t worry,” he stood in front of you and gently lifted up your chin, “you are the only one who gets to see and experience the whole show whenever you want to.”
He gave you little kisses starting from your forehead, nose, cheeks then a big one on your lips.
“Just so you know,” he added, “I’m all yours, Y/N.”
You blushed and laughed when you heard him say what he said. 
“Mmm… Lucky me.”
taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @swimmingismywholelife @chilwellspulisic @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @masonsrem @landoslover
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sehodreams · 4 months
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Forgiving others is easy, forgiving yourself not that much
Summary: Anton tried to take care of you in an unconventional way, putting you first into a helpless position. However, what he should've expected is for you to realize his intentions and to ruin his plans, but did you really ruin them at the end?
TW and tags: porn with plot (?), kind of dubcon (he tried to get her drunk but ends being the drunk one), all consentual at the end, pinning (from Anton), mentions of bullying at work place, grinding, oral sex (f receiving), p in v, no protection, tries of forced drinking, jealous Anton, kind of stalker!Anton, dark-ish, don't know how to decribe.
WC: 5.1k
Comment: to be honest I tried to write a porn without plot but it came out kind of weird, it changed so much while I wrote it I don't know what the hell happened in the process, but it's still most porn than story. I haven't posted anything lately because I write and delete them, but i finished this one so let's be happy I didn't toss it aside. Kind of dark so if you don't like this kind of content PLEASE JUST DON'T READ.
"Please, let me see your boobs, please" he was asking but he couldn't even wait for you to answer before his hand played with the fabric of your blouse trying to take it out of your tight skirt, you thought about just letting him have what he wanted, but did he deserve it? Not really.
He had tried to get you drunk at the dinner you had moments ago and had ended being the drunk one, so pathetic you couldn't help but dryly laugh out of second-hand embarrassment.
It was a team dinner so you couldn't reject the invitation, and the way he kept pouring and pouring shots of alcohol and passed them to you was suspicious, so you kept accepting them in front of everyone but tossing them to the plant next to you at the end of the table when he didn't stare at you with those wide expectant eyes. To everyone it looked like a cute hoobae trying to humor his superior, you were in charge of him because no one else wanted the heavy task of teaching the intern, and he reminded you of your first days there, inexperienced and scared, so you accepted him with grace and treated him with the care and a patience you wished you had received when you started.
At first you found it difficult to guide someone, you were used to always being alone, even with difficult tasks, but he made it bearable, always accepting advice from you, never questioning your decisions, and following your steps like a new born baby duck, and you found kind of endearing how he always made sure to stay and say thank you at the end of the day doesn’t matter how hard it was. Still, you couldn't deny how at the same time you always perceived a weird vibe from him, your eyes met his when you felt observed and he somehow knew when you needed something, if you were craving something sweet he miraculously bought extra dessert, if you murmured around how you wanted a coffee he would appear with your cup in seconds and if in the middle of a call you wanted to write something down he would gladly give you a page of his work at hand. He sometimes frightened you, but not in a bad way, so you tried to think he was just a young boy doing his best, however now that you confirmed he was human trash, you were disappointed in how you had wasted so much of your time into someone like him.
It was so sad, he was a sweet young boy just starting his first corporate job and he had so much potential, he always listened to you and offered his help with whatever you were doing, yes he was a bit awkward and shy, sometimes not daring to look directly at you in the eyes when you talked to him or stuttering when you surprised him with a question, but he still seemed honest and like a good kid, so you never expected him to try such a dirty move like that one, trying to get a girl drunk to do god knows what to her? You never punished him when he made a mistake at work, but right now you weren't at work, and he completely deserved it.
"Why should I?" You asked, slapping his hand away from you.
His cheeks were flushed and he was slurring his words, not even addressing you properly like his senior, forgetting the formalities and his usual self, he maintained eye contact as much as he could, trying to defy you for denying his wish. He did it until he realized you wouldn't break down under his gaze, even if he was bigger and stronger, you weren't scared of him at all, he could easily hurt you with his hands, he could push you to the floor right there in his apartment entrance and take you how he wanted, but you knew he wouldn't, how could the boy that always treated you like a goddess suddenly treat you like a mere mortal being? In the office he would follow you and take anything you had on your hands, like stacks of papers, boxes or even insignificant stuff like coffee cups, saying how he should carry them instead, if you said you were thirsty he would run to get a cold bottle of water from the vending machine, and when you tried to pay him back he would never accept it, "how could I? sunbaenim, I already owe you so much", he served you to the point you were sure that if you asked him, he would drop to his knees and pray your name every morning before work.
Perhaps that's why even when he tried to do such a sick thing, something so despicable that should definitely scare you away enough to not talk to him ever again, much deserving of a report to headquarters, after all the memories of you two together ran through your mind, you were there with him, in his house, letting him talk to you as if you were equals after helping him arrive safely to his house.
After some time his eyes went to the floor, he was moving from side to side, too intoxicated to keep his position, and when he almost tripped over his own feet, you grabbed his hands with yours, helping him stay still, pulling him slightly closer to you.
You can't deny that for a moment you were hesitant, even if he didn't, the possibility of him forcing himself on you was there, you thought a lot about it when you called the cab to his house after almost everyone had left when you went to the bathroom. You don't know if they tried to take him too and leave you alone in the restaurant, it wouldn't be the first time, but he had stayed to wait for you and take care of the bill with your boss credit card, only smiling at your direction when you asked him where everyone was, "don't know, but I'm here for you".
You could've left him in the cab and go home, all your instincts screamed to do that, that he was dangerous, he had obviously tried to put you in disadvantage to get something from you, the quantity of alcohol he had tried to force on you was almost unhealthy, and he did everything with his innocent face, fooling everyone except you.
However, the worst part was that he had been so obvious with his intentions you knew deep down that he had never done something like that before, you just had to look at his reddish cheeks and his dumb grin, his hand holding yours and stopping you from leaving him alone in the cab, to move that soft spot you had for him after taking him under your wing all those weeks.
You don't know why you wanted to go with him, even with that thrilled sensation of him maybe hurting you, you wanted to go, your mind too curious of what would happen for your body to listen any coherent thought about leaving.
"Sunbaenim, come with me, I'll take you home" he said not even looking at you, eyes closed and his hand holding tight yours. The driver looked behind for a second, if the roles were reversed, you were sure he'd have called the cops the minute you hoped in, but when he saw you, a soft girl with a serious expression looking out for her intoxicated coworker, he didn't care anymore.
"Please make sure he doesn't throw up inside" was the only thing he said and then drove in complete silence until you arrived to his building. When you paid the driver didn't look at you twice before he left you behind with the tall boy hugging your side and smelling your hair, you saw the yellow color of the cab far away and thought one last time to leave him and go home, but he was so happy next to you, giggling whenever your eyes met his, that you decided to see what were his intentions. After all, they said drunk people and kids never lied.
"Tell me the truth, what did you plan to do to me? And don't you dare lie Lee Chanyoung" you looked up to him, finding his eyes under the limp lights of his place. The shadow of the light above him made his face darker, his fingers played with yours and before he could talk, he stumbled over one of the numerous pairs of shoes on the floor, pushing you to the wall behind you with his whole body but not letting the impact affect you, quickly putting a hand behind your head and the other on your waist.
Almost embracing you, he stayed there, and closing his eyes, his nose breathed in the aroma of your hair again, "I-I wanted... I just wanted to take care of you, I wasn't gonna do anything, I just wanted you to depend on me once" he confessed in a whisper, but you couldn't believe him, just take care of you? How could he even try to put you in such helpless position? What if his or anyone else’s intentions were different? He couldn't even stop himself now, pressing your body with his and taking in all the sensations he could steal from you without taking off your clothes.
You tried to push him away but he was too heavy for you, so you only pressed your hands on his shoulders, almost clawing your fingers over the navy knitted cardigan he started to wear after you said it was your favorite color by mistake, "I can't believe you Anton, and why like this? Why couldn't you do it differently? Why would you want to do such a cheap move? You have no idea in what danger you could’ve put me through."
When you said his name some of his senses came back to him, he left a few inches of space between you two and a sad frown appeared on his pretty face, bringing the boy you used to know back, showing how sorry he was for overstepping into your precious space.
"I-I don't know, I just wanted to show you that you also can lean on me, I thought that it was impossible for you to let me get closer, you never let anyone learn more about you, you push everyone away and only talk about work stuff... I know I don't deserve you, but I wanted you, I want you, I want you all for me and I want to be the only one for you, I didn't know what else to do."
His tears started to drop one by one while he talked, his hand searching for you again but not daring to touch you afraid of disgusting you more after showing how wretched he really was.
You made him look into your eyes before he talked again, "It's the first time you do this?" You asked, holding his cheeks and cleaning the tears that slid down.
"Of course it is" he grasped his hands over yours, asking for compassion from you, his eyes almost looked honest, and after you nodded, accepting his words, he went and pressed his forehead in the space of your neck, getting dizzy with the smell of your perfume and all the alcohol that stayed in both of you after your dinner not long ago, "I've never wanted someone this much before... I'm sorry, I shouldn't have tried it, but you're just so high up there, you looked unreachable" his hands moved to your hips, you hugged his neck and let him get wasted with your presence, he used more strength into his grasp and you felt his fingers painfully try to penetrate your clothes and touch your skin, but instead of telling him to stop you opened your legs to receive him, "...and I felt unworthy of you, I know I am, but please, let me show you how useful I could be, how much I can serve you"
You felt his boner under his fitted grey pants, it tried to sink into you under all his layers, but it couldn't even reach you thanks to your skirt limiting his movements.
He didn't wait long thought, this Anton had no patience at all, and he hastily lifted your skirt almost all the way up, his nails scratching your tights and running them instead of carefully taking the nylon fabric off like you usually did.
"I'm sorry" he apologized still on your neck, rutting his member into your now visible black underwear. He caught a glimpse of them, they weren’t your prettiest pair, rather simple and bland, but he still was awed by them and how they covered what he had imagined so many nights before, and soon he was rutting against them again, ‘’I’m so sorry’’, he was ashamed of how much he ached for you.
"It's okay Anton, you don't have to apologize anymore" your fingers hooked on his long hair, strings of it settling under your grip, and trying to calm down the rush he was in, you murmured that sentence softly next to his ear. You could hear his heart beating inside his chest and he gulped loudly after you called his name with so much tenderness.
"I'm sorry" he repeated, feeling so undeserving of the benevolence you were gifting him, you always did so much for him, you weren't afraid of giving him all your knowledge at work, you defended him whenever he made a mistake and others tried to make him feel beneath them, judging his inexperience as a lack of intelligence, you were the most merciful person he had ever met, forgiving even the repugnant intentions he had tonight.
He pressed his lips on your throat, trying to claim possession over you, he was never going to let anyone else take you from him, he had been feeling desperate those days after one of your coworkers had gotten closer to you, he couldn't help but follow you with his eyes whenever you walked around, and recently, if he wasn't next to you, that guy would be on your side, setting off an alarm inside his head.
It was unusual to see anyone other than him treat you with the respect you deserved, Anton didn't understand why almost everyone hated you, but they did. You always did your best and outperformed your tasks, if the boss said he wanted you to finish a report for next week you'd have it ready in three days, if others asked you for a favor you'd immediately accept and leave your own work aside to help them, if an emergency appeared you'd instantly share solutions, you were the best employee and coworker anyone could wish, and they still treated you like a plague, sending you to meaningless errands and giving you the problematic clients.
His leather belt pushed up your blouse, and the buckle hooked with the silky fabric, scraping it and slightly hurting your skin in the process. "Wait- Anton" you tried to stop him from tearing up your favorite blouse but his mind was too hazy to hear you, humping his erection on your panties with his brutal force, you couldn't do anything to stop him.
When you were at work he didn't dare to ask for a single thing from you, not even a glass of water, when you offered to buy his coffee he shyly rejected you, trying to buy you one instead, but now with the little help of the alcohol he showed his true colors, that greedy side that wasn't scared of demanding what he wanted from you and taking it before you could give him permission.
He kept apologizing between thrusts, you felt your panties get wet with your arousal and his tip clumsily striking your clit, although it felt good, you weren't sure how much of it your poor clothes could take, so you decided to do what you had to do for him to cease.
"Anton, can you touch me here?" You asked, moving his hands to your chest and letting him knead your skin under your cups. He eagerly nodded, finally directing his attention to another thing that wasn't the pleasure your cunt gave him.
He didn't waste any time taking your blouse off, he did it with such an urge he didn't care your cuffs were still buttoned and that your hair ended like a mess after he pulled it over your head, his hands searched for the back of your bra and tossed it aside the minute he deciphered how to unhook it.
He admired you for a good minute, your skin reflected the light the two of you were under and when you tried to fix your hair he saw your chest moving in unison with your hands, the creamy flesh called for him to take a bite and he immediately indulged himself on it, so soft under his mouth his eyes almost rolled back and his cock sent an agonizing throb to the pitch of his abdomen, needing to sink into you as soon as he could, he moaned of satisfaction.
You liked the sensation of his mouth and his hands over your buds, but it was obvious not as much as him, he seemed to be desperate to get more of you, his teeth would find your nipples and slightly bite them to then follow with his tongue caressing the same spots, like a soothe after the affliction, pressing the flat of his tongue again and again.
He stayed like that for a long time, admiring your chest with devotion in an uncomfortable position, since you took off your high heels he was even taller now, and his whole upper body was bending to meet your chest. You tried to help him a little and stay on your tip toes but the stir he caused on your insides didn't let you think much about it, only passing your fingers over his hair and closing your eyes to not get lost in the sight of the big, gorgeous boy obsessed with you.
He ran one of his hands from your chest to your mound, and before you could tell him to not go so far, limits unclear between you two in that moment, and your mind repeating how it wasn't okay, he sneaked it inside your underwear and immediately found your clit with his fingers, pressing his wrist with enough delicacy and strength to push your ass to the wall and circle the little nerve at the same time. Still, your mind couldn't stop the thoughts, he was too drunk and you were in charge of him, you as the senior between had to put a stop before the two of you made a mistake, because that's what you were making, an enormous mistake that you wouldn't know how to fix.
You could fix almost everything, you never stopped if an obstacle presented, you handled the worst clients with grace and easily solved emergencies, but you had realized that people weren't as easy as you thought, giving them what they wanted wasn't necessarily always the answer, sometimes you had to give them what they needed it even if they didn't like the result, and right there what Anton needed was a mature adult telling him to stop and to reflect on his actions that day, because what he did was completely wrong, and you shouldn't condone his actions letting him take what he wanted from you without consequences.
This was real life, and the real world wasn’t as forgiving as you.
But fuck it felt good, and you were just human too, to have someone show so much adoration towards you made you weak, because you were used to giving everything of you, and it was the first time you met someone willing to do the same with you.
His mouth left your chest and went up to your neck, leaving marks that would show the next day and you'd have to hide before work with makeup, you were trying to remember if you had your pouch in your bag when his finger slipped inside you, making you whimper of surprise while he chuckled on your neck. He started with just his middle finger, testing how much he could push you. Your slick made everything so easy for him he thought about just putting it in, you were so ready you'd take him without problem and he couldn't wait for you to drip all over his cock, which was throbbing inside his boxers with each thought.
However, there was something he needed even more before he did that, he went to his knees and slid down your panties and the ruined pantyhose, admiring the naked skin of your thighs that slowly showed up in front of him, "please spread your legs" he asked, grabbing your creamy thighs and loving the way your flesh melted under his grip. Your plumpness somehow comforted him, and he gave a small pampering peck to each thigh before he pressed his lips over your tummy, making you open to him and his care, allowing yourself to enjoy his treatment for just a second, like you told yourself in your head, it would be just a second. No one had been so sweet, even if sometimes rough, with you, and you felt yourself falling deeper into his void, too swayed to deny him anything when he spoiled you like that.
He started with slow licks, making out with your clit and pushing your legs open with his hands. Your hips bucked into his face, and with eyes close with force, your palms tried to hold you against the wall, the torture of his tongue lapping your wetness making you tremble in your place.
More than groans, you heard whimpers and moans coming from his mouth, sobering thanks to your juices but not in his right mind still, he had more control over himself, but that only meant he was more conscious of his leaking dick needing you, and how painfully untouched he had been all the time he was next to you, craving for your attention on him and only him.
You pulled his hair with force when his tongue started to poke your entrance and his nose buried in your lips, you couldn't bear with the overwhelming feeling and pushed him away, a bit afraid of hurting him but not able to consider before doing it. He looked up to you, scared of being too much for you, but he couldn't contain himself, he wanted all of you. "That's enough Anton", he shook his head in disagreement, it wasn't even close to satisfy his thirst, and with your hands hurting his scalp he dived in again, with more eagerness and decision, he drank you until you finished pouring everything out, your moans like music to his ears, he wanted to receive anything you had to give him.
When your legs stopped trembling beside his head, he finally stood up again, staring down at your crumbled body, he helped you stay on your feet with a smile. When you looked up to him you saw his shinny face, all the way from the tip of his nose to his chin, and he wasn't ashamed of disgusted with your fluids all over his face, he even seemed elated to have your mess there, making you feel guilty of being so weak against pleasure.
You couldn't believe what just happened, you let him touch you, and you felt disturbed with your lack of willpower to put a stop to what was happening in the youngest's apartment.
"I should go" you thought loudly. He panicked and grabbed your face with both hands just like you had done before when he was spiraling in his drunken state.
"Why? What's wrong?" He asked, caressing your red cheeks and watching your teary eyes, his heart wrenching inside his chest with the idea of having hurt you, he hadn't meant to, he knew he was being greedy, he had tried to do something terrible to you before he came back to his senses, but he was just terrified of losing you, and now it seemed the same thing was about to happen, so close to him and your mind still trying to run away.
"I shouldn't do this Anton, you don't even have a steady position in the company, I'm older, I'm your superior, and what you did was so wrong, but I should be the mature person here and put a stop to it, yet I'm here just accepting you, it's so fucking sick what we're doing" your tears were streaming down and he felt bad for having put you in such a difficult position.
"I'm sorry, I'll always be sorry for what I tried to do today, I don't know what went through my mind, but please don't torment yourself, you didn't do anything wrong, it's all on me, I'm the one who's sick, just be angry with me, I can take it, but what I can't take is you in pain, please forgive me" he started shedding tears too, fat tears escaping his eyes with a concerned expression.
His shoulders were trembling with his sobs and you felt a revolting feeling in your stomach, a nauseous sensation mixed with sorrow and guilt.
"Let's forget this happened Anton, this never happened, okay?" You tried to convince him but he denied, he didn't want to pretend anything, he couldn't lose you like that, having you so close, his dream was no longer to have a good job and a normal life, nothing of that mattered if you weren't by his side, his goal had changed from serving society to serving you, and he couldn't just yield like that. "While I'm here, I'm no longer your superior, I'm no longer your coworker, we're just two people together, two people that are meeting for the first time, okay?"
His world suddenly was illuminated by your grace again, exhilarating in joy, he nodded until his cries stopped, kissing both your hands with adoration, swearing inside his mind to never hurt you like that ever again, and that the only tears he could ever let come from your eyes would be of pleasure and happiness. "Thank you, thank you" he repeated with every kiss on your knuckles and then over the back of both your hands. He had taken a liking to kissing every spot of your body, and he was hoping to soon have you over his bedsheets to adore you even more.
But for now, he picked up where he left, he went to your lips and kissed you with his whole sincerity, crushing your mouth with his. His kiss was breathtaking, making you dizzy but finally relieved of finding an answer to the problem there, even if it had to do with you forgiving him and forgetting what the two of you were outside that apartment, you could take it, because it wasn't what any of you wanted, but what both of you needed.
"Can I put it in?" He asked and you nodded. He, in his euphoria, pulled down his pants and his underwear to let his length free. He was so excited he lifted you with his arms without showing any struggle and then pressed his tip over your entrance, letting your body fall and take him with a single motion.
You tried to get him back in his senses scratching his shoulder blade "Anton-" every thrust of his hips would push the next word back into your throat, and talking between moans it took you a while to say, "I'm too heavy... Put me down", you cried when his pelvis instead of stopping moved harder against you, the clasp of skins echoing around you two and making you the drunk one now.
He denied, "it's okay, I can do it" he continued, you felt your tears dropping and falling over his skin, the intensity of your insides being demolished so easily by the young one left you under his mercy, taking it and hoping you wouldn't get addicted to a pleasure like that one so fast.
He stopped for a second, lifting you even more with his arms, making you bounce and accommodating you against the smooth surface of his wall, strong arms holding both your trembling legs and hard breathing next to your ear, you couldn't hear exactly what he whispered when his cock stayed inside and throbbed, your cries were louder than you expected when he started his pace again and you could only understand something along the lines so gorgeous, but you didn't know if you heard him right or not so you didn't answer, concentrating all your thoughts into holding yourself around his neck to not fall. His shaft punched exactly a spot that made your eyes flutter and you sobbed when he ruthlessly kept striking it, he only needed to hear your first moan to know what he had just found, "feels good?" He asked and kissed your neck. You cried an affirmation in response, a yes so broken he felt proud of himself for making you feel that good, not daring to stop his movements, with the only purpose of comforting you like he had been wishing for so long when the people in the office shoot daggers at you regardless of what you did. If you were good no one would praise you, if you praised others they would say you weren't honest, and he was sure that, if you ever did a mistake, everyone would condemn you, and every time that happened he just wanted to grab your hand and tell you I'm right here, doing whatever he could to help you think about something else while giving you all the praises he wished he could say out loud. "You deserve it, you deserve it all" his lips found yours and feeling your insides tightening around him he messily fucked you with everything he had, making you hop over his length while the back of your thighs slapped his skin. When you were cumming you bit his shoulder and he hissed of pain but continued with his motion and came with much pleasure inside you a couple of thrusts later, gladly letting you hurt him if you needed to, because for him you could do whatever you wanted with his body, and he would always forgive you, just like you forgave him moments ago, teaching him how even an inferior being like him could earn your mercy, so why would such a kind existence not deserve it back? He would praise you and adore you as much as you required, and he'd teach you how to accept him without doubt ever again.
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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 4 months
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MCU Play toy Headcanons
18+ MDNI
A/N: This is my first time posting anything like this. I wrote this up a while ago and finally decided to post it. Please ignore any spelling errors!
-Y/N gets hired by Tony for the rest of the team as a way to de-stress after missions
-Y/N gets used by most of the Avengers on the daily, but is always happy to please.
-Y/N is a switch but most of the Avengers are doms
-Y/N loves when they're lounging around and then someone will come up and just start fucking them no matter where it is
-living room? Fucked. Kitchen? Fucked. Meeting room? Fucked. Meeting room during a meeting? Oh honey you're in for a good time.
-Y/N has their own room and bed, but tends to sleep on the floor of someone else's room because that's what good pets do
-Y/N will sometimes get to sleep with someone for the night, usually Wanda who is a soft Dom and likes being called Mommy. She loves holding her baby. To Wanda you're her baby not her pet and that makes you feel special
-Nat is into some darker stuff that you didn't realize you liked until she introduced you to them (knife play, noncon con, somnophilia, omorashi, branding, dacryphilia, breeding)
-Nat has a dick and you would never pick favorites, but hers is your favorite
-Steve likes regular sex, but is super rough and into hair pulling and choking
-Loki uses his magic to make you fall fast into sub space and big on degrading.
-Thor is the opposite and only ever praises you he loves calling you princess
-Bucky is rough with you, but praises the whole time on how well you're doing, calls you doll as his nickname for you
-Bruce refused to use you at first and it wasn't until after him and hulk were able to live harmoniously that he fucked you, “Oh look at you big boy. I don't know if you'll fit like this.” “I'll make it fit and you'll take it all.” You do.
-Tony, Rhodey, Scott, Clint and Sam all don't fuck you as they have their own things going on.
-You thought Kate would be gentle with you, but she ends up being pretty rough and talks you through everything, grounding you in the moment which overwhelms you with pleasure.
-Yelena, who you thought would be rough, is actually a sub, a little at that. Her childhood ripped away from her and now she just wants ‘Mommy’ which you have no problems giving her.
-Tasha feels really uncomfortable at first when Yelena and Kate join the Avengers since Yelena is her sister.
-You understand why, but you have to remind her it's still your job
-Yelena is huge on physical touch and requires it often. Skin to skin is best.
-speaking of love languages you try your best with everyone's love languages as you all get to know each of them
-Steve is words of affirmation and quality time. Always tell him how good he's doing and you guys go on “dates” having dinner or watching a movie or doing a puzzle
-Bruce is acts of service and quality time. This usually involves you being in the lab and helping him whenever he needs it.
-Thor is WoA, physical touch, and quality time. He likes taking you out and experiencing new things
-Natasha is WoA and acts of service. You always praise her while you're fucking, “oh your cock is amazing! It fits me perfectly!” Saying things like that sends Nat over the edge.
-Loki is mainly all about physical touch. When you two are out he always has a hand or an arm on you
-Wanda's is quality time and WoA. You two love watching sitcoms her favorites are the old ones and yours are the new ones like The Office and Big Bang Theory
There comes a point where you realize that you actually love each and every Avenger, and it worries you that they only see you as a toy, but it's the farthest thing for them mostly.
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byuljoonie · 9 months
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moonlight // knj
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I’m sorry baby I’m just really hot…
pairing: namjoon x reader
genre: one shot, slight angst, fluff, growing tension, boyfriend material, extreme smut, desperation, succubus intentions…
word count: 5k+ (sorry)
warnings: mentions of mature topics, spit, namjoon driving lmao, thigh humping bcs desperate, throat goat, dom!sub, dom rm!sub reader, alcohol consumption, probably a good amount of swearing, post-gym namjoon, grocery store activities, slight car play, teasing, oral, summer night, riding, overstimulation, a little masochism
summary: namjoon promised to go to the grocery store with you after the gym (extended ending on ao3)
note: just had what cody ko and noel would call a “power thought.” I literally just had a spark of inspiration bcs it’s really hot in the south right now and Namjoon’s vogue cover is to die for. enjoy and feel free to check out any of my playlists while reading. Sorry for any little mistakes. gonna make a tag list after I post 10 works! -ash (wrote this draft a few months ago so it might be slightly more extreme than expected.)
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My reflection stared back at me, tracing the movement of the cloth against my skin. The long slit of the black fabric starts by the left knee and leaves an opening at the bottom of the dress. My manicured feet sat firmly against the hardwood bedroom floor, grounding me away from my persistent thoughts. I grabbed my sunglasses from the stand mounted on the cream walls and turned swiftly on my heels. Abandoning the mirror with a grimace on my face.
I loved this dress very much, the long sleeves light and airy protecting me from the harsh summer rays. The way it hugs my figure is like someone familiar. The same someone that bought this dress for me. He crossed my mind once more sending another surge of anger through me.
Namjoon promised to come along to the grocery store with me today but he’s been at the gym for almost 2 hours now. He said he’d only be gone an hour but an hour quickly turned to two, now I’m dressed and past ready to go. I hated going to crowded stores, at this rate we’ll never beat the after-work rush.
I sat on the bed putting on my anklet he gifted me for our 3 year anniversary. Yet another gift that I’m wearing today, being spoiled ruining my plans of holding a grudge tonight on our date. I slipped on some black socks and made my way towards the door. Listening as the front door swings open with a beep of the automatic keypad.
I excitedly descend the stairs, my black dress sweeping the floor behind me beautifully like a wedding gown flowing in the summer breeze. The second step I’ve already failed at trying to be mad at him.
“Baby! Where you at?” He says deep voice roaring through our apartment. I stopped at the bottom of the stairs almost running into his chest. He smiled at me taking in all of my body, returning to my eyes after his brief but thorough inspection.
“Right here NAMjoon,” I stated putting extra emphasis on his surname. I watched as his chest rose and fell with every breath, his skin glistened with sweat. Tan skin accentuating his muscular frame, my mouth parted slightly at the sight. He looked heavenly I almost lost my composure.
“I’m sorry I took so long Y/N my trainer wouldn’t let me leave until the workout was complete,” he said walking towards me. Smirking at the way my eyes followed his every movement.
“You look so gorgeous Princess, this dress is perfect for you,” he said pulling me into a tight embrace. Grabbing a handful of my ass as he reached over to rest his chin on my shoulder. I yelp in surprise at the sudden groping, melting into his body and giving up on being angry. I wanted to take him right now but first, we need food or we’ll be eating out for another week before we have time to shop again.
“Whatever Joon go shower we have to leave as soon as possible and you’re stinky,” I said pulling away from him and then standing on my tippy toes to kiss him quickly. He kissed me back beginning to deepen it before I push him away again. I give him a knowing look and bid him goodbye as I walk to the kitchen to make him a snack to eat in the car. The store was about a 25 minute drive from us but it was worth it for the produce.
I grab a few ingredients from the fridge to make him a nice sandwich with an everything bagel. I prepared everything quickly and put it in a small ziplock bag next to my purse. I heard Namjoon exiting our bedroom 15 minutes later, humming a sweet tune in his beautiful vibrato.
“Come on babe I already have the car warming up,” he said grabbing my hand and lightly pulling me next to him. He’s wearing a light brown shirt with a pair of distressed blue jeans. Looking as handsome as always I drink in his appearance for eternity. We walked to the elevator quietly, Namjoon tapping away on his phone until the elevator doors opened to be let us out.
As we walk towards our car I begin to sweat a little, the setting Sun still scorching my skin like its’ noonday twin. I started to speed up a little pulling Namjoon along so I could feel the relief of the A/C sooner than later. He swung the door open for me making sure my dress wasn’t in the way before shutting the door.
Namjoon jumps in quickly closing the door before the heat could penetrate the closed air. It still wasn’t cool enough in here, with the sun beaming directly on our vehicle the A/C felt like lukewarm hell. I let down the window hastily fanning myself as we pulled out of the parking lot.
After I few minutes of fanning and desperation, I looked over and behold a sight that would make any woman yearn in an instant. A head of sweat moved swiftly down the expanse of Namjoons golden jaw. Resting at the base before dropping down onto his slightly exposed shoulder. His lips rose colored from his unconscious biting. I wanted to reach over and swallow him whole, I crave him so bad I can’t help but squeeze my legs together at the thought.
I was so caught up in my sinful thoughts I didn’t notice him glance over at me. A twinkle in his eye set off the indication of a torturous idea. Namjoon placed his large hand on my thigh, causing me to tense up instantly. Before I could utter a word he reached over my leg and grabbed his sandwich from my lap.
His smile turning into a stifled laugh as he continued to stare straight ahead. I must have let out the small noise I was holding in because he seemed to know exactly what would tick me off right now. I turned my attention towards the windshield trying to focus on the passing cars and people watching. Then an idea popped into my head.
I pull out my phone and open the group chat I have with our 6 best friends. I stop and think of what to type before another brilliant idea is brought to me. I pose provocatively making sure my cleavage was “present,” in my photo. I took a couple of pictures, some with sunglasses and some staring at Namjoon. He patiently drove, oblivious to my sly intentions. He hummed along to one of his favorite songs looking over at me to shoot me a wink.
I giggled and looked away almost feeling bad for what I’m going to do. Yet not bad enough because I went ahead and sent the photos with a message. “Should I post these on my close friends? I don’t know if I look good enough today…” I said ending with a sad face. It didn’t take long for our phones to simultaneously vibrate. Secretly glancing over at Namjoon, I unlock my phone knowing he can’t check his until we’re in the lot.
Hobi ddaeng: You look great !! Of course, you should post it, Namjoon talk some sense into her.
Me: He’s driving right now. I didn’t ask for his opinion yet I want to hear you guys first :)
Park Chanel: ooooh…I see…
Park Chanel: If you don’t post the pictures I will! Wow wow you look beautiful. Nice..dress and necklace.
I looked down at my neck realizing I didn’t wear a necklace today. Oh Jimin you’re evil Namjoon is going to kill me and you. I laughed a little at his crude behavior and read the next incoming message.
Yoongi: You’re gonna get hit Jimin *laughing emojis*
Me: mmm just because you guys said so I will post it hehe
Before I could read the next response I felt the car shake as we pulled into the grocery store parking lot. I quickly went on my sns and posted two of the pictures on my close friends. Picking the two the boys liked the most. I was starting to get nervous, I know how possessive he is with me and I’m the same but I want revenge for making me frustrated.
Namjoon pulls into an open parking spot almost near the front of the bustling building. I take off my seatbelt with a click grabbing my purse from my lap and swinging the door open. I wanted to beat Namjoon inside before he could read the texts and catch me. As I hurriedly closed the door I saw him reading the messages, jaw tensing with rage.
I hear him call my name from the car and a slam of a car door followed behind the sound of his sexy voice. His long legs easily closing the space between us as he grabbed my hand, squeezing it while looking at me. I put my shades on ignoring his questions. Stroking the back of his hand as I never break eye contact with the automatic sliding doors.
“Can you get us a cart pet?” I froze at the nickname. He knows what he’s doing, and I don’t plan on breaking that fast. I let go of his hand briefly going to grab the first cart I saw. Cleaning the handle before strutting back over to my boyfriend as he eyed me intensely.
I let him grab the cart from me but not before pulling him down to whisper in his ear. “Anything for you Daddy..” I say in a hushed tone. Making sure to leave a kiss on his sensitive earlobe as I pull away.
I walk forward trying not to laugh at the silly nickname I used to get him riled up. He trailed behind me, failing to hide his blatant staring at my ass. We make our way down the aisles trying to speed up the process as people begin piling into the store.
“Joonie baby I can’t reach this,” I said struggling to reach the box of goldfish on the top shelf. He moved over to me in a flash, pressing his front flush against my back. I heard his breathing stop as I purposely pushed my ass against him.
“This one, this one, this one, or this one…” He trailed off purposely picking the wrong boxes to tease me. He finally grabbed the correct item and tossed it in the cart. Walking away as if he didn’t leave me speechless and flustered on the cracker aisle.
I follow him to the snack aisle after grabbing a few bottles of wine and champagne for our date tonight. The empty aisle presents another opportunity for me to assert my dominance. I walk over to the chips looking at them inquisitively as if I’m mocking a character.
“Honey do you want this kind or this kind?” I said while bending over. Making sure to sway slowly as I wait for an answer. “Babe? Which-“ I was cut short as a hand firmly grabbed my ass causing me to yelp in surprise and sit up straight.
“I want this one right here,” he growled in my ear. I turned around and looked at him, watching his eyes darken with hunger. “Let’s get outta here yeah?” He questioned looking into my eyes. I nodded furiously ready to exit this hell and get home to what’s waiting.
We race to the self-checkout line, scanning and bagging groceries like a 5000-dollar prize is awaiting the winner. Namjoon grabbed my hand after he paid and pulled me along with him as he pushed the basket with his other hand. He was so warm, skin clear and kissable. I wanted to pull him aside and cover him in kisses, not caring about the people around us.
Namjoon unlocks the car as we stop beside it. I move to walk around the cart but he stops me in my tracks. “Let me help you get the groceries in the car love,” I say looking confused at his sudden maneuver.
Unexpectedly, he opened the car door and motioned for me to get inside. I insisted again that I help but he gave me a look that I know better than to disobey. I got inside praying I didn’t anger him too much. I set myself up for this one, didn’t I? It’ll be worth it in the end right? Maybe I went a little too far with the texts but I can’t help but shiver with anticipation. I pull out my phone to text Jimin about my bad decisions.
Me: I think I fucked up lol
Park Chanel: you’re welcome ;)
Namjoon slams the trunk shut causing me to jump in surprise. I close my phone sitting it in the cup holder beside me. He gets in the car, jaw still tense as he turns the key in the ignition. I thought about breaking the silence but the tension was so thick a knife would recoil at the slight pressure of penetration. Namjoon puts on his seatbelt then proceeds to look at me.
“ I don’t want to hear another peep from you Y/N..” he starts lowly not breaking eye contact for a second. “You’ve done enough for tonight, if you do anything stupid I swear I will pull the car over and take you on the side of the road. I promise you wouldn’t want that.” He deadpans and looks away from me, pulling out of the parking spot. I utter a soft okay and prepare to behave the rest of the way home.
I slide my palm over to his free hand resting on his thigh. I stare firmly at him, giving my best puppy eyes in return. He doesn’t look away from the road but I watch as his lip twitches into a small smile. He grabs my hand, rubbing his large thumb over the back of my hand. In love can’t begin to describe how I truly feel about this man.
I laugh as he tries to sing along to Smoke Sprite, raspy voice blending well with Soyoon. I rap along to his part of the song, stealing the spotlight and making him bop his head in excitement. The song finishes and we’re about 10 minutes from our place. I check my phone and see a text from our group chat, making the recent grocery store escapades flash through my mind. I want him to touch me again, I like it when he’s desperate and needy for me.
Another terrible idea floods my brain accompanied by a mound of outcomes. I suddenly let go of Namjoons hand causing him to spare me a confused expression. A smile graced my face as I turned my body forward, grabbing the slit of my dress and opening it over my legs. I let my left hand run down the front of my dress, stopping at my panties hesitating even.
I slide my hand under the fabric immediately coming in contact with the soft skin. I dip my fingers and get to work. I began letting out dramatized moans and grunts. I moan Namjoon's name and furiously let my hand lose control. I looked over and saw Namjoon gripping the steering wheel in frustration. Sweat adorned his angelic face, veins prominent in his hands. I let this go on until we reached the last stop light near our apartment building. I sat up and closed my legs acting like I didn’t just masturbate next to my boyfriend in a moving car.
We pull into the lot entering our designated spot. Namjoon quietly turned off the engine and released a sigh that he seemed to have been holding in. He looks absolutely pissed and it’s so sexy. His erratic breathing only made me wetter by the second.
“You’re going to follow my instructions carefully. I don’t want to hear a word from you or tonight will be your worst fucking nightmare got it?” He questioned angrily letting his eyes trail over my body once more. I nodded too scared to move an inch more.
“Go upstairs, get undressed, wait in the middle of the bed. If you’re not in that spot when I come up there in 15 minutes, you better pray you can stop time.” He seethes hotly. “Yes sir,” I say scared and ready for more. He gets out of the car walks around and opens my door. He grabs my purse from my lap holding eye contact, his brown almond eyes dark and predatory.
“Go.” He states motioning for me to exit the vehicle. I get out swiftly, grabbing my purse from his hand and sprinting towards the entrance of the building. The elevator took an eternity to bring me to our floor. I ran to the door and shakily put in the passcode, messing up a few times before it finally let me in.
My shoes are off in a flash, I leave my purse by the door as well abandoning my shades on the counter as I run past to the stairs. I burst into our room, slipping my dress off. Almost fell as I grabbed my silk lavender robe hanging on the wall. I threw it on and climbed onto the bed. My anklet glowed in the natural light seeping through the parted curtains. The front door swung open slamming against the wall.
I heard shuffling, cabinets opening and closing for 10 more minutes before his heavy footsteps echoed through our hallway. He walked into the room eyeing me before raising an eyebrow. I started to sweat nervously hoping I did what I was told.
“Who told you to put on your robe Y/N?” He questioned in amusement. He slowly walked over to me, grabbing each side of the robe and ripping it open. He discarded it onto the floor and stalked around the bed, he stood at the front motionless. “On your knees in front of me, now.” He said and I immediately left the bed. I swung my legs over the side and dropped to my knees.
Namjoon watched me through lidded eyes as I crawled over to him on my knees, stopping directly in front of his growing bulge. I was quick to unlatch the hook of his buckle, the metal of the belt clinging as it hit the hardwood floors.
“I’ll excuse the robe mishap since you’re so eager to taste me doll face,” he said reaching down to grab my chin. A loud moan echoed through the room as he grabbed my hair and yanked my head back. He looked down at me, motioning his head back as if telling me to open up. I did as I was told and watched as he spit in my mouth and closed it back. He pulled his pants down and kicked them to the side.
“Good girl, now eat.” He said intensely. He hummed in satisfaction, eyes never leaving the way I wrapped my fingers around his cock and finally engulfed his length into the warmth of my mouth. I took him in slowly inch by inch, his girth heavy against my tongue as I extended my jaw wider and wider. I choked a little as he hit the back of my throat.
“You look so fucking gorgeous with your lips wrapped around me, pet,” his fingers tightened into my hair, his gaze stoic and heavy on me. Pet. The pet name earned a moan from me as I began a steady rhythm of sucking. My fingers were coated in a thick layer of saliva, Namjoon’s cock easily sliding against my pressured grip as my cheeks hollowed, jaw growing sore from my strenuous movements.
He groaned loudly, fucking my throat faster until I could no longer take it. I let my jaw go slack so he could use me as his personal toy. He grabbed my face and fucked it harder until I was seeing stars. A beautiful repetition of my name strung from his tongue, stilling as he came into my mouth. I happily swallowed every drop, coughing around his cock one last time, sending a shiver through his body.
“Good job, get on the bed I want to taste you. I can see you dripping on the floor,” he smirks as he picks me up and helps me onto the bed. He walks around and gets in the middle of the bed, watching me as I sit patiently waiting for instructions.
“Come here baby, sit on my face,” he motioned for me to come to him. I slowly crawled towards him, bracing myself on his lap. He kissed me roughly, tasting himself on my tongue, running his hand down to play with my chest. Nipples sensitive to the touch, he pulls away from me, taking my right breast in his mouth. Sucking and nibbling on me, teasing me. He pulled off with a pop, scooting further down the bed and then lifting me so I could move towards his face.
I place my hands on the headboard hovering over his face in anticipation. He suddenly grabs my thighs and pulls me down onto him. I scream out in pleasure as he dives into my center. Feverishly lapping his tongue at my pussy like it’s the last time he’ll have me. His moans send intense vibrations through my body, making me scream his name. We’ll have a noise complaint tomorrow.
I felt my orgasm coming on, riding his tongue until my legs were sore. He let go of my left thigh to slap my ass hard, signaling me to cum on his tongue. I came with a loud groan of his name. Shaking and twitching as I came down from my high.
Namjoon grabbed my hips, gently guiding me down to his lap. His face was covered in my essence, from nose to chin, he glistened like an Angel. He smiled and rubbed circles on my tummy as he watched me shake.
“Don’t think we’re done darling, I’m not finished until I see my cum dripping down your pretty legs.” He gave me one last smile before his eyes darkened once more. He grabbed my hips and lifted me slightly, sticking his girth fully inside me. I sank slowly, letting him fill me to the brim. Tears streamed down my cheeks loving the painful stretch in my core.
“Ride me until I say stop.” He deadpanned motioning for me to move or else. I started to ride him painfully slow, not being able to take much more. This was my opportunity to finally seize control. I picked up the pace, rhythmic grunts and sounds of skin slapping filled the room. I put my hands on his chest and let my hips do the talking.
I ground down harder, spelling his name with every swift motion of my hips. I felt his cock twitch inside of me, indicating he was close already. Now that I have control I’m going to make him feel everything he did to me. I moved faster, causing the bed to shake and tremble with every shout of his name.
He grabbed my hips trying to make me slow down but I only grind down harder. Clenching and tightening around him to send me him over the edge. I watched as his orgasm roared through him, eyes rolling to the back of his head. I kept moving, milking everything from him. Getting closer to my orgasm, I let myself go with one last yell of his name.
Squeezing my eyes shut as I finally stilled. The sound of heavy breathing filled the room, the bed creaking as I rolled off of him. Shivering as the empty feeling overtakes me when he’s not inside of me. “I hope I didn’t get too carried away,” I started while looking over at my completely wrecked boyfriend.
“That was perfect.” He said smiling over at me. He slowly stood up, going to our bathroom to retrieve a towel. He returned momentarily, cleaning me off and then cleaning himself. Throwing the towel in the hamper against the wall. I was so exhausted I could barely move. I got under our giant duvet, getting comfortable fairly quickly.
Namjoon glanced at me, nestled under the warm blankets, my eyes getting heavy with exhaustion. He promised me a special date night and he was determined to make it happen, even if he just put me to sleep. With a gentle smile, his aftercare continued.
“Hey, babe,” he whispered softly, brushing a strand of loose hair from my face. “I know you’re tired but I don’t want our date night to go to waste.”
I yawned in response and mumbled sleepily, “Joonie I’m so comfy right here.” Earning a chuckle from him, my reluctance seeped through the atmosphere. “I know, but trust me, you won’t regret it. I’ve got something in the living room set up for us.”
That caused me to sit up, curiosity overcoming my fatigue. “Oh? What is it?” I said carefully. “It’s a surprise, but I promise it’ll be worth it.” He said leaning in to plant a kiss on my forehead.
With his gentle encouragement, I reluctantly pushed the covers aside and allowed Namjoon to help me out of bed. He passed me the discarded robe and my slippers, and together we made our way to the living room.
Where soft candlelight flickered with a movie on the screen waiting to be played. As I settled onto the couch I couldn’t help but smile at the effort Namjoon had put into creating this romantic haven. A charcuterie board with our favorite snacks and 2 bottles of the wine we purchased earlier were on the coffee table.
Namjoon plopped down beside me, taking my hand in his. “See princess? Our date night in the living room isn’t so bad, is it?” He said grinning like he won the lottery. My fatigue began to dissipate as I basked in the warmth of Namjoon's love and effort. “Not bad at all,” I said, feeling grateful for his consistency and thoughtfulness.
“Let’s start the movie I’m so excited!” I exclaimed pumping my fist in the air embarrassingly hard. Namjoon laughed and mimicked me, making me laugh even harder than before. The first half of the movie went by as we stuffed our faces with food and downed wine like it was our last supper. I was starting to feel tipsy and before I knew it my thoughts started wandering again.
“Mmm, these snacks are-“ Namjoon started as he reached for the charcuterie board. I interrupted his thought by grabbing his hand. Namjoon looked at me puzzled, “huh?” He says in surprise. I move closer and settle onto his lap. “I want to be closer to you,” I said, hands resting on his toned chest.
Namjoon blinked at me, a tipsy smile forming on his lips, “Well I can’t argue with that pet.” I look into his eyes exploring the galaxies I can reach within them. “You know, I love nights like these, just you and me, a movie, some wine…” I rambled to him.
“Yeah, me too. It’s moments like this when I realize how lucky I am to have you in my life baby.” He said while lost in my eyes. Searching for something, something that he knows I have. I leaned in slowly, our lips almost touching, “I love you Namjoon.” I kissed him before he could respond. Feeling his emotions spill into our kiss. He pulled us apart gently, rubbing his hand on my cheek. “I love you too Y/N.”
He grabbed my face and captured my lips again. A thief that could do no wrong in my eyes, I deepened the kiss craving more of him. Needing to feel something more. I slowly began moving my hips on his thigh, grinding down onto the exposed skin, earning a guttural groan from his throat.
His hands moved down the side of my body, exploring every curve, touching every mark he left on me this evening. He landed on my hips, guiding me to my last orgasm with his strong hands. The air was hot once more, soft moans and sweet nothings penetrated the quiet.
The movie is long forgotten, the candlelight coating the walls in a beautiful golden glow. I felt my orgasm building quickly, still sensitive from the earlier assault on my clit. Namjoon began bouncing his leg, adding more pressure on my center, and sending me over the edge.
I kiss him one last time before I fall fast asleep on him.
The end.
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