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#Kick them. Come on. Everyone's waiting. I know I am. It's not hard.
cosmicflw3rr · 3 days
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can you write something where r comforts dom when he loses a big title match? 💘
did your best.
dominik mysterio x fem! reader
summary: after dominik loses the north american championship you’re there to help pick up the pieces.
A/N: thank you too @rheas-ripley and some others my request are stacked!! tysm🫶🫶 so I am trying to get to all of them! but I’m in Columbia rn w no service, I only get service at the air bnb, and I’m here for a week so yea! but I am trying!
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you were on the edge of your seat, watching dominik's title match. anxiously biting at your nails, your foot jittering up and down anxiously.
your gaze was locked on the monitor as dragon lee executed his finisher, you flinched at the hard impact. your hands instinctively moved to cover your mouth.
and as the ref began to count, time felt like it was dragging, each second stretched out. it was like it was all in slow motion.
1!
you were hoping for dom to escape the pim, understanding that holding the championship meant the world to him. that this was his chance to show he's not just some character they fans boo at.
he wanted to silence the everyone, to prove he's earned his spot, and to show just how far he's come since turning on his dad.
2!
you clasped both your hands in front of your lips. muttering a quick prayer under your breath, "come on, dom, kick out," urging him on silently.
3!
ding! ding! ding!
your jaw dropped, watching as dragon lee celebrated. rushing over to embrace dominik's dad, rey mysterio, who was seated at ringside.
you felt a bitter taste creeping up inside you.
your mind racing, you watched the crowd cheer for dragon lee. all praising him. the camera panned to dominik, rolling out disappointed but scowling at lee and the fans.
you stood backstage waiting for him in the gorilla. dominik pushed past the curtain moments later, looking exhausted. a few of the crew gave him words of encouragement, he acknowledged them before moving to you. he gave you a small kiss on the cheek
he wiped his face with a towel, breathing heavily. his body was drenched in sweat from the intense match.
when he saw you, his expression softened. but you could tell he was upset. "I'm gonna go shower." he muttered into your ear before giving you another quick kiss and walking away.
you knew that dominik was putting on a brave face, he wanted to show everyone that he wasn't going to let losing the championship affect him. but you could tell that he was frustrated and upset.
your eyes followed dominik as he went towards the showers, and you felt your heart break at just how upset he looked. he was putting on a brave face for everyone else.
even though dominik was young, he constantly strived to meet the expectations placed on him. the expectations that came with being a wwe legends son. he didn't want to look weak in front of everyone.
but at the end of the day when you’d both leave and go home, you knew the truth. you knew how much the loss affected him. how much it hurt to lose the championship that meant so much to him.
and you hated that he was acting like he wasn't affected by it. that he couldn't even let his feelings out to the one person he trusted the most.
you sighed running your hand through your hair frustrated.
——-
you were talking with roxanne when your phone buzzed in your pocket. you excused yourself as you checked it seeing a message from dom.
you checked your phone, seeing you had a text from dom. "I'm ready to go back to the hotel, I have your stuff just meet me in the parking lot when your done."
you sent him a quick text back, letting him know that you'd be there soon.
and finally, you told roxanne that you had to head out. she didn't ask too many questions, just giving you a quick smile before nodding.
you began the walk to the parking lot. you checked your phone again as you walked, seeing that dom had replied, letting you know he'd be waiting at his car.
once you reached the parking lot, you began looking for where you two had parked the car earlier. as soon as you spotted it, you began to walk towards it.
you quickly approached dom's car, seeing him leaning against it. his arms folded, and his gaze directed at the floor. he looked pretty exhausted, and you felt a small pang of empathy for him.
you couldn't help but frown as you got closer, wanting to help him feel better in any way you could.
"hey..." you said softly.
dom's head snapped up, turning to look at you. he was silent for a moment, before finally speaking. "hey.”
he tried to put on a smile, but it was clear from the look in his eyes that he was still upset. "you ready to go?"
"yea i am." you said, he opened the passenger door for you before passing over to the drivers side
as you settled yourself in the passenger seat, he quickly got in the driver's side and started the car. for a few moments, neither of you spoke. he was clearly lost in his own thoughts.
you were also quiet, just watching him driving. finally, you decided to break the silence. "are you okay”
"yeah, I'm fine.” he muttered, his voice coming out quiet and hoarse. he didn't seem convinced when he said it. he kept his eyes on the road, his gaze straight ahead.
there was a heavy silence in the car, as if all air had been sucked out of the car. you tried to think of something to say, to break the heavy tension. but your mind was completely blank.
dom was still staring straight ahead, not seeming to want to look at you at all. it was clear that he was trying to hold back his feelings.
he pulled up outside of the hotel, turning off the engine and unbuckling his seatbelt. he looked over at you, finally looking at you once again. his expression was still stoic, but there was a hint of sadness in his eyes.
he climbed out of the car, walking over to your side and opening the door for you.
you got out the car, waiting for him as he grabbed both of your bags out the trunk. you both went over to the hotel entrance, and he opened the door for you once more before following after.
once inside, the lobby was mostly empty besides a few hotel workers busy behind the front desk. however, you could faintly hear music and laughter coming from one of the rooms.
dom led you over to the elevator, pressing the button before leaning against the wall. he looked he looked exhausted, keeping silent.
he let out a long breath, his eyes still directed at the floor. he seemed like he was completely lost in his own thoughts and didn't want to speak about it.
as the elevator doors doors opened to reveal the hallway of your floor, you both made your way down to your room. he fished out his keycard from his wallet to unlock the door. you both walked in grabbing your bag he'd left by the door.
the room was quiet and clean, much like a hotel room should be. dom closed the door behind him, and you could hear the lock clicking loudly before the room fell silent once again.
dom sat down on the edge of the mattress, seemingly exhausted as he begun to take his shoes off.
you laid your suitcase on the bed, going to your knees to look for pijamas. you looked behind you seeing dom, your heart tightened as you stood up. you walked over to him sitting down next to him, you rested your head on his shoulder taking his hand in yours.
"babe talk to me."
he turned to look at you, his gaze still downcast. he gave you a small, tired smile, seeming almost relieved that you were there.
"i'm fine. everythings alright.” he muttered, giving your hand a quick squeeze.
you looked up at him, "but you're not fine."
he stayed silent, not moving an inch. he was clearly still trying to hide his feelings, putting on a brave face.
"i'm fine.” he repeated again, sounding slightly more convincing this time. the tension was palpable.
"dom please." you pleaded softly, you just wanted to be there for him. you just wanted him to let you be there for him.
you could see the strain of trying to stay strong slowly starting to crack. he let out a heavy sigh, his gaze going back to the floor. he stayed quiet for a moment, before finally speaking again.
"it just sucks-" he muttered, his voice coming out hoarse. not being the champion anymore seemed to be weighing on him.
"it feels like i've failed. I failed you; I failed the fans; I failed everybody." he muttered, a mixture of exhaustion and sadness in his voice.
"oh, baby, you didn't fail me; you did the best you could."
"and the best i could do wasn't enough." he replied, still keeping his gaze cast to the ground. he was clearly frustrated and upset, disappointed with himself.
his free hand moved restlessly, and you saw that he was tightly kneading the fabric of his pants.
you begin to trace patterns on his hand, looking down at your intertwined hand. "dom listen to me, you gave it everything. I'm proud of how hard you fought. this isn't the end. you'll get through this-we'll get through this. together."
he stayed silent for a moment, his gaze going up to meet yours. his expression softened, and you could tell he was trying his best to believe your words.
he swallowed, and his hands relaxed a little bit, though you still saw some tension there. "I don't know, y/n/n, I just- I just feel so defeated right now.”
your eyebrows furrowed, your heart hurt seeing him hurt. you gently turned his head so he'd look at you. "dom." you said softly, searching in his eyes, you wanted to say something instead you just wrapped your arms around his neck. pulling him into a hug.
he leaned into the hug, finally burying his face in your shoulder and letting out a heavy breath. he held on to you tightly.
he was lost in his own thoughts, the weight of having failed again weighing him down. it was clear that, although he was trying to stay strong and move on, he needed some comfort right now.
"I don't know any way to convince you that you deserve everything you've gotten and so much more." you mumbled into his shoulder, "dom you're gonna get so much more title opportunities, I just know you will."
he stayed silent for a moment, his head staying buried into your shoulder as he took in your words. he was still trying to process the loss, trying to convince himself he would have other chances.
finally, he spoke. “I'm just scared. that this is the start of the end, y'know?"
"this isn't." you reassured, "you’re so young, and your career is just starting. you have so much more to do."
he stayed silent again, but you could see him slowly believing what you were saying. he was still disappointed with having failed to keep the championship, but he was coming around to the thought that he would have more opportunities.
he looked up at you, and his expression softened a bit. "I appreciate you being here for me, amor..." he said quietly.
"you dont have to thank me, ill always be there for you."
he smiled softly, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. "I know you will... and I love you." he said quietly, his hand moving to hold yours.
“I love you too," you told him. his fingers laced with yours, his gaze now fully on you.
he smiled softly, and for the first time since his match, he looked genuinely happy. as if all the worries had momentarily washed away, and he was now in the present with you.
your eyes moved to the stray hair that had fallen on his forehead, you moved it away gently. “you ready for bed?” you asked your gaze going back onto his eyes.
he gave a small chuckle, and looked back at the bed. he nodded, seeming relieved that the mood had shifted. "yeah.” he said, letting go of your hand. “I'm beat."
you stood up tying your hair up. “same, but I’m gonna go shower first.”
he gave you a small wink, moving over to you, letting his hand trail down your side. he leaned down, whispering into your ear. “I know a way to save water.”
you rolled your eyes, “no dom.” you said playfully.
he chuckled, a slight grin spread across his face. "pleaseeeee?" he whined, making it sound like a child asking for candy. he tried to give you his best puppy dog face, his eyes looking at you hopefully, the two of you making eye contact.
after a moment you caved, “fine.” you said, “hurry up.” you laughed out running away from him into the bathroom.
he let out a small laugh at your reluctant agreement, chasing you into the bathroom.
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karisworldofwords · 2 months
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Wow, okay, lmao, so. My step-dad and I just drove to the gas station in the Czech Republic - most Germans in my region do that, the border isn't too far away and the gas is cheaper but still German so better for our cars' gas tanks. I decided to put on a playlist with this year's Eurovision songs on it, the first one being Europapa from Joost Klein - and yes, little Kari grew up and has a car now, lol, yay me! It's an Opel Corsa from 2014. 👀❤️
Guess which song got stuck in my ears? Yep, Europapa. 😂
Gosh, honestly, it's a bop! I couldn't understand the hype behind it at first but now that I heard it, I'm in love! Doesn't take away from the fact that my personal favorite, out of sheer pride lol, is still Always on the Run from Isaak of course. ❤️🫶🏻 But still! It's such a party hit! Joost knows what he's doing, and whatever it is he's doing, he does it well. 👀💅🏻
Special mention goes out to the song La noia from Angelina Mango! That one has me in a chokehold, I'm obsessed. And of course Rim Tim Tagi Dim from our boy Baby Lasagna, beloved. 🫶🏻❤️
And yes, of course, No Rules! from Windows95Man is awesome too, it has a special flair to it, like it could be the anthem for teenagers that have their parents' house to themselves for a week, lmao.
I can't wait for this year's ESC! Unless Isr*hell doesn't get kicked, then I'm boycotting.
Infodump over, love y'all! 🫶🏻✨️
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deadsetobsessions · 25 days
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Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt. 5
[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.6][Pt.7]
“So you’re that dead kid everyone’s talking about.”
Danny smacked a trash bag into the purple clad vigilante. “You can pick up the glass.”
“Wait, I’m just here to-”
“Bother me when I’m working? At least the litterer brings me cash. You can help clean or you can leave. Plastics go over there.”
Danny pointed at a pile of plastics, ignoring Spoiler’s bemused look. Hard to tell, really, considering her mask.
“I’ll help clean if you answer some questions!” Spoiler chirped, already moving to pick out the glass in the general trash pile Danny’s managed to gather. He nodded.
“Alright. At least you’re helping. The other one just bothers me and leaves his stuff on the beach.”
Spoiler snorted. “I’m Spoiler. Is the litterer Batman?”
“Sure. I don’t really care what his name is,” which was a complete lie, Danny was a fan. It’s just that messing with Batman (especially after he couldn’t clean up after himself, honestly!) overrode his fan behavior. “But if I catch him leaving shit in the waters again…”
Danny frowned, eyes glowing. He could feel- even with his partial tangibility, the muck of Gotham's waters seeping into his boots. It was not giving 'Live, Laugh, Love' to Danny, and he needed it gone.
“Whatever. They dropped a lot of guns down here. You can deal with those too, yeah?”
“I'm pretty sure that's evidence?!”
“If you could call it that.” Danny plucked away the Styrofoam and the hazardous (more than regular, anyways) materials away from the trash pile so Spoiler could dig through with her gloves without contracting sixteen different sorts of illnesses.
“So, what brings you to Gotham?”
Danny pointed at the water. “Came for school. Stayed because you losers polluted the water with dead bodies and gross chemicals.”
“You go to school?”
“Hey, that’s discriminatory.”
“Oops! No, sorry! I meant-”
Danny waved her off, irritably separating a bottle cap from the crushed bottle. Seriously, what’s the point of putting the cap back on if you were going to throw it in the bay anyways?
“It’s fine. How else am I supposed to learn about the advancements made in the scientific industry otherwise?”
Even if Danny wasn’t too sure that science could sure stupidity, but a halfa could dream, right?
"So... do you just... listen in on lectures?"
Danny stared at her. "What else would I do in a class??"
"Oh. I just thought since you're dead and all, you'd do something more... fun?"
"I mean, I could terrorize the local villains for kicks, if that's what you meant."
Spoiler brightened. "Actually, yeah! That would be helpful! If Mr. Freeze keeps bringing the cold during my latte Thursdays, I'm gonna snap and wring his cold little chicken neck."
Danny snorted. "Alright. I will keep an eye out for this Mr. Freeze." Danny paused. "Hey, tell your friend to come down and help us."
"What- oh. Black Bat!" Stephanie waved her partner down. Black Bat gracefully slipped down towards the bay, casually knocking out two goons gunning for Spoiler.
'Careful,' Black Bat signed.
"Thanks!" Spoiler bounced on the heels of her feet. She swept an arm out. "Wanna help?"
Black Bat tilted her head and, after placing Danny under quick but thorough scrutiny, nodded.
'You can get the salvageable stuff. Anything you can't lift, leave to me.' Danny signed clumsily, placing emphasis on can't.
"You know sign language?"
"I'm not too good at it, I just learned this version."
He knew ghost-sign first, after all.
"Chop, chop. I don't have all night."
----
Danny learned that Black Bat had the skill to knock cans into their designated piles if he threw them in the air so she could kick at them.
"You two can come back anytime."
Spoiler whooped while Black Bat leaned back, smug.
"Wait, tell the litterer he owes me $200. He was short last time."
"...Are you telling me Batman owes you money?"
"Yeah. He might be in financial straights, so I gave him some lee-way."
Black Bat and Spoiler looked at each other.
----
"Hey, so guess what I learned about sea boy!"
Bruce's head swiveled to her with startling intensity. The rest of the clan tuned in.
"He knows sign language! Maybe he even knows ancient sign language! And goes to school, but since he's like, dead, he could only listen to the lectures."
"Bruce, Bruce, do not start a ghost-education plan. Stop. We don't even know if he even-" Dick tackled Bruce, who was already writing a petition as Bruce Wayne to give partial credit to students that diligently goes to class.
"Oh, yeah!" Stephanie shouted over the unraveling chaos. "He promised to fuck with our Rogues for a bit so we can get a break! And we also got a bunch of guns!"
"Where? Gimme!" Jason demanded.
"Do not give Todd more firearms!" Damian cut in.
"Also!" Stephanie grinned as Cass shook with laughter. "Batman's a debtor! He owes Phantom $200!"
"Ain't no fucking way." Tim cackled. "Hear that Bruce? That's karma! For not defending me when he called me broke!"
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acourtofwhatthefuck · 6 months
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Practice On Me — Part Ten — Azriel x Reader
Summary: Poor Rhys gets cockblocked. Cassian and Azriel come to blows. Realisations dawn on Az that he doesn’t know what to do with. Kaeda’s not very good with rejection. Reader receives some unexpected support.
Word Count: 7.2k
Warnings: Depictions of violence and injury.
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The male’s hand has found pride of place in Rhysand’s lap.
Currently, it sits on his thigh, but the temptation to inch it closer — closer — to that sweet prize between his legs is a lusty, burgeoning one.
A shame, truly, that they’re currently fully clothed and in the middle of the busy mead hall.
Rhys chews and swallows a mouthful of his dinner, a smirk toying with his lips as he glances at his most recent sexual conquest.
There’s enough heat in that gaze to set the whole of Windhaven blazing.
Zakai is a very pretty male, indeed, with rich dark skin and thick, long eyelashes for days. His tempting appearance is most certainly exacerbating this current haze of lust that has taken over him as of late, driven by a preference for males. It changes every now and then. Sometimes he favours males, other times he favours females.
Whatever takes his fancy, there’s always somebody to warm his bed.
“I do believe,” the future High Lord purrs, “that you’re trying to distract me from my dinner.”
Zakai’s full lips kick up into a smirk. “Maybe I am.”
“How terrible.” He leans in closer. “Depriving me of a nutritional meal. What of my sustenance?”
Zakai also leans in. “I have something else you can wrap that pretty mouth around. I think you’ll find it to be more than adequate.” So boldly, as if no one else is around, he snaps out and drags Rhys’s bottom lip between his teeth.
Rhys makes a low noise, food all but forgotten—
But a kiss never comes to fruition as they’re shoved apart, and Cassian is slotting himself between them. “Your mother is here.” He steals Rhys’s plate. “Did you know?”
Rhys tamps down on the urge to slam his face into that food. “I would hope so, considering it was I who flew in with her.”
Cass hums. “We’ve been banished from the house for the time being.” He turns to Zakai. “Rhys will have to suck your dick elsewhere. May I suggest the pillory? He could even tie you up. Would be very kinky—”
“Banished?” Rhys quickly interrupts with a frown. “Why? Is my mother alright?”
“Roza’s fine. It’s Y/N. They’re having a serious talk.”
“About what?”
“Serious stuff, I guess.”
Cassian can be really, really frustrating sometimes.
Rhys shoots him a look that communicates precisely that. “What serious stuff? What did they say?”
“Roza called it girl talk.” Cass takes another huge bite, chews — and pauses in thought, “Do you think Y/N has been acting a little strange recently? Not her usual self.”
In all honesty, Rhys regrets not being around more, with all Y/N has had to contend with as of late. But even with him flitting between Windhaven and Velaris, he’s noticed a change.
A change amongst everyone, really. Something is…off.
“She has a lot going on. It’s hardly surprising.” He says, studying Cassian — the male is still in deep thought. “But I think there’s more than she’s letting on. I thought you would know more than I do, considering you’re around her more.”
Cassian says nothing. He chews and chews like he can no longer taste the food in his mouth, and he’s just giving it absolutely anything to do other than speak. Even Zakai shoots Rhys a look that says he’s not buying it.
“Shall I give you two some space to talk?” Rhys’s lover suggests.
Rhys dips his chin in gratitude. Makes sure that a little bit of heat still swims in his eyes — a suggestion of what’s to come, when he’s finished here. “I’ll come find you.” He promises.
Zakai winks. “I’ll be waiting by the pillory.” And with a shared laugh, he’s standing and strolling away.
Rhys turns back to Cass. He’s at least swallowed the mouthful of food, but there’s still a faraway look in his eyes. “What is it you’re thinking so hard about?”
Cassian just chews his bottom lip.
“Cass.” He gives a little kick to his leg. “If there’s something you know about Y/N—”
“I think I may have fucked up. Badly.” Finally, his friend turns to him. The severity on his face is…rare. Worrying. “Maybe I should have told you this before now, I don’t know. But…you see…Y/N and I…we—”
There’s no chance for him to complete the sentence.
Not as the mead hall’s huge wooden doors burst open, loudly and abruptly enough that conversation just ceases. Everyone turns. Azriel looms in the doorway.
He only becomes more of an intimidating figure as he gets older — anyone would be an idiot not to recognise that. But there’s something about him right now, like this, that has even the most steeled Illyrian warriors eyeing him cautiously.
Though his hair is wet-through from the snow, he’s not at all dressed for the cold weather. The casual, tight-fitting shirt and breeches will do very little to protect him from the brutal temperatures, and his tan skin is already pinkened where the icy air has bitten it.
But his eyes — his eyes are a blazing, churning inferno.
He looks huge in the doorway. Bigger than he ever has. His chest falls and rises heavily, and his fists clench at his sides. The firm set of his jaw is a warning. He hasn’t come here to play.
His boots thud harshly against the wooden floor as he storms in, and everyone watches, waits to see who the shadowsinger has a problem with, and what he’s going to do about it. He appears to have no weapons on him — a rare sight that only adds to the rugged, impulsive nature of how he looks right now. Like he forgot all else in his pursuit to come here.
What nobody is expecting is the way his dark, golden gaze zeroes in on Cassian. And the love that usually sits on Azriel’s face when looking at his brother has been replaced with something infinitely colder. Harsher. Angrier.
Dangerous.
Rhysand glances between them, recognising very quickly that something has occurred in his absence. He slowly rises from his seat.
“Az?” He says calmly. “You alright?”
No.
No, Azriel is not alright.
Everyone knows it. Cassian especially.
He’s staring back at his friend, and a thousand realisations pelt him that he genuinely did not consider before now. He’s got a terrible habit of acting first and thinking later. Of not looking at the bigger picture and considering every single person that might get hurt as a result of his actions. He doesn’t mean to be so thoughtless or impulsive. He’s gradually learning.
But as he drinks in the sight of Azriel, he somehow knows the source of his rage without it needing to be said. It never occurred to him before, but it does now.
Both he and Rhys have secretly speculated, over the years, whether something more might grow from the loving friendship between Azriel and Y/N. But time passed, and nothing came of it, and—and—
And with Kaeda on the scene, Cassian had assumed that no romance would be blossoming after all.
But that didn’t mean there weren’t still feelings there. Complicated feelings.
And in that moment, as Azriel stops at the table, the true weight of Cassian’s actions strikes him like a bolt of lightning.
He clears his throat, taking in the sight of him. Even his shadows are staying out of this. “Az—”
“Get up.” Azriel demands fiercely.
“I don’t know what you’ve been told—”
“I will not tell you twice, Cassian.” The shadowsinger’s eyes darken. “Get. The fuck. Up.”
Every single person is watching — waiting. Cassian doesn’t move.
And then he says quietly, “No.”
It’s not that he has any problem getting in a punch up with either of his brothers — Cauldron knows, it’s happened more times than any of them care to remember, where they’ve roughed each other up and resolved things quickly after. It’s just a method of Illyrian affection.
But this isn’t like that. This is hugely, frighteningly different.
This is serious.
Cassian is realising very quickly that he fucked up — not necessarily in the act, itself, of having sex with Y/N. They are both free, consenting adults, after all.
But if he’s guilty of anything, it’s of not thinking about who he might hurt with his decisions. And if he’d bothered to stop and think that night in the kitchen, he’d have known damn well that him having such relations with Y/N would be upsetting for Azriel. At the very least, Cass should have spoken to him first.
And that’s what he wants to do, now. Not fight. Not draw blood and leave bruises. Just…talk. Explain himself. Make it clear that he would never, ever intentionally hurt Az.
“I’m not fighting you.” He says, far quieter than his usual Cassian volume. “We should talk—”
Azriel’s lunging across the table and nipping that suggestion right in the bud. His fist goes flying so hard into Cassian’s jaw that his head snaps back. He barely has a chance to right himself before Az is throwing himself at him fully and knocking him to the floor.
“What the fuck is going on?” Rhys snaps, but neither of them seems to hear, and then the noise is picking up in the room and people are rising from their seats to get a closer look at the fight. Encouraging them with rowdy shouts.
This is no competitive brawl between friends. Through the gathering people, fists are swinging and blood is flying all over the place. Azriel is pummelling Cassian’s face over and over, and choked, angry words are leaving him as he does.
“You just can’t help yourself, can you?!” The shadowsinger seethes, throwing another punch. “You know—” Punch. “Know how I feel—” Punch. “And you still had to go and do it.”
Too much is happening at once for Rhys to put the pieces together. All he knows is that this is bad. All he can do is watch.
And Cassian is barely fighting back. He’s not interested in returning the punches. He just wants to put a stop to this.
“You knew. I know you knew.” Az then grabs him by the collar of his tunic, and he’s lifting him and slamming him back down against the floor, so hard that the whoosh of air that leaves Cassian can be heard across the hall. “Fuck. You. Cassian. Fuck you—”
“You—” Cass coughs blood at him. “You had Kaeda—”
“Piece of shit—”
“Perhaps…if you hadn’t been…so blinded by your fucking lust…forgot all about Y/N—”
Oh, that’s entirely the wrong thing to say.
A snarl is leaving Az, or maybe Cass, or perhaps both of them at the same time.
What happened leading up to this point was mere child’s play.
The two of them utterly lose it, and Cassian forgets all about talking and allows his temper to take over, and the real fight begins. Rhys is shoved back, stunned, as people try to push closer. All he can hear is the sound of his friends’ punches landing on each other. With more blood drawn, the noise becomes a sickly, wet one that tells him this is getting out of hand.
He barges his way through people, trying to get to the centre of the fray, but a noise is stopping him in his tracks.
“HEY!”
Somehow, his mother’s voice is loud enough, commanding enough, to reach every corner of the mead hall and wash over each and every occupant. Something about the raw order in her voice has everyone stopping. Quietening.
Even Cassian and Azriel cease their fighting. But they’re still exchanging harsh words that are compromised through split lips and mouthfuls of blood.
“Fucking vile—”
“I’m—sorry—Az—sorry—”
“That is enough.” Roza storms into the hall, a hand resting on her belly. She’s well and truly displaying the façade of the High Lord’s mate; someone not to be argued with. “Stand aside at once.”
If it weren’t for the serious nature of the situation, there might be something amusing about seeing honed Illyrian males slink back like threatened animals. But Rhys can only watch as they back away from Roza and lope back to their seats.
“Mother.” He turns to her, shaking his head in disbelief. “I have no idea what’s going on—”
Roza holds a hand up, cutting him off. She turns to Azriel and Cassian, who are now just staring at each other like sworn enemies.
“Off the fucking ground now.” She snaps.
Azriel’s eyes shutter. He’s breathing heavily. He hesitates, wants to go against the order.
But even through the red mist of anger, he respects Roza too much to do that.
Heaving a deep breath, he pushes off Cassian. Rises to his feet.
Roza jerks her chin at Cass. “Help him up.”
Azriel makes an incredulous sound. “He can get up himself—”
“Help him the fuck up, Azriel, before I bash your damn heads together.”
Az clenches his jaw. It might be childish that he refuses to look at Cassian as he juts a hand out, but he doesn’t fucking care. Nor does he care that he puts the bare minimum of strength into hauling him up off the floor.
As soon as Cass is on his feet, he’s shoving Azriel away from him.
“There are so many things I could say to you idiots right now.” Roza snaps. “But I’m way too pregnant for this shit, and I want to sit down.” She angles herself to Azriel. “You — go spend the night at the dormitories. Clean yourself up and calm down.” She turns back to Cassian, to Rhys. “The two of you are coming back to the cottage with me. I don’t give a shit about who said or did what. Don’t want to hear a peep out of any of you. Do I make myself clear?”
This is just a teensy bit humiliating — the three of them bowing their heads while they receive a scolding in front of their fellow Illyrians. But they’re not stupid enough to argue it.
They are stupid enough not to respond, though, and that only pisses Roza off more.
“Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear.” She thunders.
“Yes.” All three males intone.
“Good.” She steps back, nods at Azriel. “You first. Go. Dormitories. Now.”
Azriel sends one last, scathing glance at Cassian before stalking off. He limps out of the doors and into the snow — a fact that leaves Cassian feeling just a little smug.
“Get that damn look off your face, Cassian.” Roza narrows her eyes at him, and he quickly corrects himself. “And get moving. If you don’t get your asses back to the cottage this instant, I’m locking you out. Understood?”
Cassian says, “Yes, Roza.”
Rhys mumbles, “Didn’t even do anything.”
Roza looks at him like she wants to throttle him. And that’s enough for him to straighten himself out and offer his pregnant mother his arm. She takes it silently. Cassian moves to her other side.
“When we get back,” she says quietly, “the two of you better start explaining what the fuck has been going on in my absence.”
Neither males are exactly sure.
But they’re both wise enough not to say that.
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The steaming bath is supposed to soothe you, but it does not. Nothing can. Not even Rhys’s sweater that’s currently swallowing you up and encasing you in his scent.
And when you traipse down the worn wooden staircase at the first sound of voices, you feel like crying all over again. You hope for Azriel — hope he’s come back, willing to hear you out. But stepping into the living area, that tiny shred of hope evaporates.
Conversation ceases, and Rhys and Cassian are looking up at you from their respective spots on the couch. Roza is pottering around the kitchen.
At the first glimpse of Cass, your heart drops.
It’s not that you’re unused to seeing him roughed up, but this is…this is different. He’s clearly not riding on the wave of his normal post-brawl adrenaline. He looks downtrodden, hurt — both physically and emotionally.
Blood streaks from his face. He’s cut and bruised in numerous places. A gnarly black eye is beginning to show itself.
He finds interest in his hands. Can’t seem to bear looking at you.
“What—” Is all you’re able to gasp out, before you’re hurrying over, perching yourself on the coffee table before your two friends. You reach out. “Cass…what—”
“Take a wild guess.” He mutters, still not looking at you.
You angle yourself towards Rhys, looking for an answer. And the fact that you can’t read his expression…it threatens to cut you open.
 “I don’t have a clue what’s going on.” He says with a shrug. “Clearly, nobody tells me anything.”
“Azriel did this.” You say quietly. It’s not a question.
“Yes. He did. Turned up at the mead hall and absolutely lost it.” Rhysand’s violet eyes flick between you and Cass. “And I’m guessing it has something to do with the two of you. Care to share?”
Your eyes shutter, because having to speak it aloud again might finish you off. But you suppose the worst has already happened. Azriel knows. You might as well share the truth with Rhys, also, and show him what a wretch you are.
You open your mouth, and unplanned words leave you in a rasp, “I shouldn’t have done it.”
Rhys studies you. “Done what?”
“We slept together.” Cassian finally speaks, wiping a strip of blood from his chin. “Y/N and I.”
You can’t stop your eyes roving over to Roza in the kitchen. Even though she already knows, a bolt of shame hits you all over again that she has to be present for this. Not only does she have far more pressing matters to worry about, but you simply cannot bear it — of all people you’d hate to let down, it’s her.
And she may have her back to you as she busies herself in the kitchen, but you know damn well she’s listening to every word.
Rhysand purses his lips, and he sits back, folding his arms. “Why?
“It just happened.” Cass shrugs. “Night we went to Fenlaros. Y/N was upset after the fight broke out, and I was helping her, and it just…happened. I didn’t think there would be a problem, given that neither of us are tied to anyone, but apparently it is a problem. Honestly, Azriel has no damn right. He’s been busy with Kaeda for months—”
“Yeah, Cass, but we also know it’s not a straightforward situation.” Violet eyes dance over to you. Back to Cassian. “Surely you must have known that he—”
“No, I didn’t, because like I said,” Cassian snaps, “he has no fucking right. What reason does he have to be angry with either of us? We don’t owe him shit. Y/N is a grown female. If she wants to fuck any one of us, that’s entirely her choice. It isn’t for him to dictate—”
“I don’t disagree, but—”
“Not to mention the fact that he’s passing these judgements from his cushy little high horse that he’s been fucking Kaeda atop of. I should have fucking given him hell back there, but I didn’t—”
“There’s more to it than that.” You cut in, every word slicing at you. You lower your gaze as the two males turn to you. “There’s…there’s more to it than you realise.”
Cass eyes you. And usually, he would reassure you — tell you not to put the blame on yourself.
He doesn’t.
He knows, just from looking at you, that he can’t.
He grits out through his teeth, “What.”
“Az has a right to be angry.” Your hands shake as you drag them over your face. Your eyes are red raw and sore from all the crying you’ve already done. “Not at you, though, Cass. It’s me. I…I’ve been so stupid.”
“Stupid how?”
“Azriel and I were engaging in sexual stuff, too. Okay?” The admission comes barrelling out of you. “It wasn’t planned. He asked me for…for some help. With his confidence. One thing led to another, and he and I were doing certain things. We didn’t sleep together, but we did other stuff. And it was all intended to help him approach such things with more confidence, but then I realised I wanted more, but he was interested in Kaeda, and I was upset and jealous and I just…I’m sorry. To both of you. I’m so fucking sorry.”
Utter silence.
Your friends stare at you. Even Roza turns around.
You think you’d prefer to be shouted at rather than this. They’re looking at you like…like they don’t know what to do with you, say to you, anymore.
And then Cassian laughs. Not humorously, but a bitter, soured laugh. He shakes his head. “So, what you’re saying was that you used me to forget about your feelings for Az?”
“No.” You shake your head. “I…it wasn’t like that. Not intentionally. You and I both know that what happened between us was impulsive…and unplanned…and it didn’t mean anything. It just happened—”
“Because you were upset about what happened in Fenlaros! You instigated the kiss! Am I to believe it was a coincidence that you did so after Azriel had just put on some valiant display of starting a fight over Kaeda?”
“Cassian.” Rhys warns quietly. “Don’t shout at her.”
“I told you,” Your voice is beginning to break, tears heating your eyes again, “that I was feeling shit about myself—”
Another brusque laugh, void of humour, cuts you off. “And what of earlier tonight?” Cassian demands. “When Roza walked in on me kneeled between your damn thighs. What led to that?”
“That is enough.” Roza stalks over, folding her arms. “I’ve been staying out of this so you can have an adult conversation, but I will not tolerate that disrespect under my roof. I won’t have you talking to Y/N like that, Cassian. Or any female for that matter.”
Cassian slumps back slightly, muttering a half-hearted apology. To Roza, not you.
But he has a point, doesn’t he? Having laid it all out to you like this.
You slept together because you were hurting and wanting to chase away your feelings. And he may have instigated what happened earlier tonight, but you reciprocated — because you wanted to chase away your feelings.
You used him. And the second you truly realise that fact, you feel sick to your stomach.
Tears drop into your lap as your eyes shutter. Shame is ravaging your body like a sickness. You wish you were somewhere, anywhere, else.
Wish you were someone, anyone, else.
“I’m sorry.” You whisper, and the words alone choke you up even more. “I am so sorry, Cass. I don’t—I shouldn’t have—”
You can’t get out whatever it is you want to say. The emotion is simply too much. A pain that is both mental and physical. It’ll eat away at you until you’re skin and bones. A husk of yourself.
There’s movement, and then someone is perching beside you. Wrapping an arm around you and tugging you into their side.
“Y/N…” Rhysand murmurs, resting his chin on your head. “Azriel should never have come to you for practice to use on another female. Why would you agree to that?”
You know precisely why. But you will not say it aloud again. Choking out those words to Roza was enough. They’ll only hurt even more.
You just cling to Rhys, and you cry harder.
And after a moment, it’s Cassian who’s sitting forward and answering Rhys’s question for you.
“Because you love him. Don’t you?” He’s so quiet. Painfully quiet. “You love Azriel.”
Yes, you want to scream at him, I love Azriel, and I wish I didn’t, because even if Kaeda didn’t exist, I would be the last person in the entirety of Prythian that he’d ever look at. Me with my ruined wings and broken soul. What do I have to offer? What could I ever give him that would be worth sticking around for?
But all you can manage is a soft cry. Rhys holds you tighter as your shoulders shake.
Roza takes the seat that he vacated, next to Cass. Her hand strokes over her belly. “Mistakes have clearly been made.” She speaks. “But believe me when I say that these things are not worth ruining such good friendships over. Ever. The bond that the four of you have is so, so special. Your love and support for each other is beautiful. And so, you may be angry at each other for a while, yes — but it’ll be okay. What you have is far bigger than anger. It’s love.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.” You whisper. “I would never.”
A deep sigh leaves Cassian, and he’s leaning forward. “I know that. I’m sorry for how I spoke to you.”
He shouldn’t be. You deserve it. Deserve worse.
“I still don’t think Azriel was justified.” He then says. “He’s being fucking irrational—”
“Yeah, well, he just needs to calm down.” Roza cuts him off. “You all do.”
“And stop sleeping with each other.” Rhys adds. “Definitely don’t do that again.”
Cassian’s response is a mumble, “No danger of that.”
You can only manage to shake your head in response. You’re so very, very tired.
Roza seems to read that on your face. “I think we should all head to bed. Y/N, Rhys, you both go on up while I see to Cassian’s injuries.”
You don’t need telling twice. As Rhysand pulls you up, he damn near supports your whole body weight. It’s like you’re boneless, slumping against him. Exhaustion suddenly smothers you and threatens to drag you down to the floor.
But as Rhys drags you past the couch, a hand catches yours. Encloses around it.
Cassian stares up at you. Looks beaten down and tired and hurt. But he squeezes your hand and says softly, “Love you, sweetpea.”
You run the risk of breaking all over again just by opening your mouth, but you have to get the words out. You swallow down a lump and tamp down on a sob, and you just about manage to return, “Love you too, Cass.”
His answering smile is weak, but he kisses your hand and let’s go. And then Rhys is pulling you towards the stairs.
You don’t deserve a friend like Cassian — someone who can be utterly furious with you but will still break through that anger to tell you he loves you, because you need to hear it. He’s so golden. More valued than he will ever realise.
And Rhysand is, too, as he supports you on every step of the staircase. His arms are firm around you, strong. He’s not letting you fall, even as he stops outside of the bedroom that you always share with Az.
“Will you stay with me, Rhys?” You find your hands bunching the fabric of his shirt, clinging to him with shameful desperation. “Please? I don’t want to be alone.”
He studies you, and then he’s nodding resolutely. “Of course, I will.”
The smile you manage to give him is watery and unconvincing, but you force it, anyway. You turn, opening the door — until Rhys stops you. Your tired eyes glance over your shoulder in question.
And the mischief that’s on his face is so normal, so Rhys, that it actually makes you feel better. That look he gets when he’s about to say or do something that’ll earn him a slap up the side of his head. One half of his mouth tilts up, and his eyes are glimmering.
“Out with it.” You say blandly.
“Just don’t make a move on me, okay?” He grins. “Let’s not go for three out of three.”
You scowl, stalk into the bedroom, but in all honesty, you appreciate the humour. It’s far better than the hurt.
And Rhys knows that — which is precisely why he made the effort to crack a joke at all.
When you’re tucked up in bed beside him, his scent and body heat lulling you to sleep, you find his hand beneath the covers and give it a gentle squeeze.
And like always, he squeezes back.
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There’s a new crack in the ceiling.
There were six the last time Azriel counted. A seventh one now cuts a jagged line that zigzags directly over his bed.
This bed, in this room, in these dormitories.
This bed, that Y/N sucked his cock in. That he kissed Kaeda on. With the lumpy mattress and scratchy blankets.
Azriel fucking hates this bed.
He hasn’t slept a wink all night.
He knows that morning must have arrived, because people are walking the halls and readying themselves for training and talking too loudly. Az would usually have been up before all of them, already out there training in the harsh cold. But this morning, he doesn’t move an inch. It has nothing to do with the good few punches that Cassian managed to get in during their fight. If anything, Az relishes the discomfort.
Y/N and Cassian fucked. It’s all he can think about. Plays on a constant loop in his head. The truth is an oily one.
And with that truth comes further truths. Realisations.
The first — that after a night of lying awake and turning it over in his mind, he’s not sure he even has a right to be mad.
Y/N owes him nothing. Cassian owes him nothing. Their choice to lose themselves in each other’s bodies should make no difference to Azriel whatsoever. No promises have been made — aside of Y/N’s agreement to help him build his confidence. And that was a favour. Nothing more.
But those two words — nothing more — keep bringing Azriel to his second realisation. One he’s so fucking stupid for not realising until now, when it’s too late.
It was more — to him. Right from that very first kiss in the mead hall, when heat had surged his veins and he’d been left wanting more, more, more. It was that want, that carnal desire, that had had him coming straight back for further experiences with her. It was easy to say it was all about practice. Easy to pretend it wasn’t the terrifying thing it was. Easy to deny the truth.
Right from that very first kiss, he wanted Y/N.
Wanted to keep kissing her. To touch her. To have her touch him. He didn’t want to experience those things with anybody else, and he didn’t want her to want anybody else, selfish as that may be. That need had overtaken him after one fucking kiss, and he should have realised it there and then.
It was why he’d reacted to Jonan’s flirting the way he had. Why he’d lost his shit in Fenlaros, when Thedis had been ready to drag Y/N off to a shaded alcove and fuck her senseless.
It was why, no matter how damn hard he tried, he couldn’t generate that same desire with Kaeda. Kaeda was not Y/N.
And Y/N was everywhere he looked. In everything he felt. Her heart and her beauty and her laughter and her damn good soul. Her strength. Gods, that unwavering strength.
And that was why he’d reacted so damn irrationally — because he wanted Y/N, and it was his own fucking fault that she’d fallen into the arms of someone else.
He sits up in bed, dragging a hand through his hair. He doesn’t want to go to training today, doesn’t want to face anyone—
But a knock lands on the door, and he tamps down on the urge to tell whoever it is to fuck right off.
“Azriel?” Kaeda’s voice comes from the other side. “I know you’re in there.”
He heaves a deep, long sigh.
He really, really does not want to face Kaeda right now, of all people.
But she knocks again, and he finds himself kicking his sheets away in pure frustration and stalking towards the door. He almost yanks it off the hinges.
Kaeda takes in the sight of him, a pinched expression on her face. “You look like shit.”
Azriel really doesn’t have the patience for this right now. His voice is cold, flat, as he bites out, “Why are you in Windhaven.”
“I came looking for you to see if you’d given any thought to my offer, and I found out you’ve been brawling with Cassian.” She reaches out, brushing her fingers over his bruised cheek. “What happened?”
“It was nothing.”
“Clearly.” Sarcasm laces her tone. She rubs her arms. “Can I come in? It’s cold.”
The last thing he wants is anyone in his space. And he should stand his ground, tell her that. But he silently steps aside.
Kaeda breezes in, tucking her wings in tight. She turns to face Az and folds her arms over her chest. “Well?”
Azriel kicks the door shut. “Well, what?”
“What of my offer?”
Her offer is the furthest thing from his thoughts. How can he think about a life in Fenlaros when his life in Windhaven is such a colossal fuck up? Not to mention he would never make such decisions without consulting his friends — his family — first—
But things with his friends aren’t in such a good place right now.
“You dumped all of that on me not even twenty-four hours ago.” He points out. “I can’t just come up with an answer for you.”
“What we’re trying to do is important, Azriel—”
“I have other things going on right now. Alright?” He snaps. “Your father’s vision is not my priority.”
Kaeda stills, balling her fists. “What things? Something to do with why you were fighting with Cassian, I presume.”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Kaeda.” He pivots, turns his back to her. “I just…need some space.”
There’s a beat of silence, and Az thinks that perhaps she’ll actually listen and leave.
But then he feels movement behind him, and Kaeda’s front is pressing to his back. Her arms wrap around him. He tenses.
“I’m sorry for pushing you.” She presses a kiss to his shoulder. “I just want what’s best for you.”
Az’s eyes shutter. Her touch feels wrong. All wrong.”
“Azriel.” She whispers, and those hands travel lower, towards the waistband of the low-slung cotton trousers that hang from his hips. “I can make you feel better.”
The second those fingers begin to slide beneath the waistband, he’s launching himself out of her arms. Stumbling back against the wall.
“No.” He breathes. “I—can’t.”
Kaeda stares at him. Purses her lips. “Why?”
Because you are not Y/N. You’re not her. You’re not, and never have been, who I want.
“I just…need to be alone.” Is all he manages to get out. “You…you need to go.”
The expression on Kaeda’s face tells him just how rarely anyone asks her to leave. He feels rude, and brusque, and unkind.
He can’t bring himself to care.
“…Fine.” The tone of her voice suggests that it absolutely isn’t fine. She squares her shoulders, lifts her chin. “I’ll go.”
Az inclines his head. “Thank you.”
She strides towards the door, coldness rippling off her. And when she wraps her hand around the doorknob, she turns.
“When you’re ready to stop being such a fucking coward,” she levels him a look, “you know where you can find me.”
Azriel doesn’t bother replying.
He climbs back into bed. And he relishes in the sound of the door clicking shut.
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“You’re sure you want to do this today?”
Outside the chipped wooden door of your father’s house a day later, you’re frozen on the spot. Your breath clouds in front of your face, and you wish you’d accepted the coat that Rhys had offered you before leaving.
It’s tempting to turn around and go back to the cottage. Warm yourself by the fire. Hopefully fall asleep and avoid the pain in your heart, at least for a little while.
But you know that now is the right time to do this. Your father will be hard at work in his forge, and you’re free to gather your belongings and turn your back on that hollow home for good. At least it’ll keep you occupied for a while.
So you turn to Roza, and you nod. “I’m sure.”
“I still don’t think you should be doing this alone.” She eyes you cautiously. “Why don’t I send Rhys to help?”
“I’m fine, Roz, honestly. I think…I think I’ll appreciate the space.”
The space to cry and cry without anyone smothering you. You appreciate the love and support over the last twenty-four hours, you do — but being under the same roof as Cass…not knowing what Azriel might be doing, thinking, feeling…it’s all a bit too much.
So, yes, you’ll appreciate the breathing space.
Roza seems to finally recognise that. She nods. “Alright. I’ll come back for you in an hour.”
You lean in and press a kiss to her cheek, and then you’re turning and ripping the bandaid off before you can talk yourself out of it.
The house is as dark and dingy as it always has been. It smells musty. It feels soulless.
You step in and shut the door behind you, and you’re suddenly faced with every bad memory that has ever played out there. The shadow of your child self skitters around on bare, dirty feet, scrambling to get the fire lit, the dinner cooked.
The walls are painted with the hateful, malicious words that your father has spat over the years. Some of them have been punched in his many fits of anger.
This place will always be suffocating and evil. It will always shrink you back down to that tiny, terrified child who just wanted love.
You wrap your arms around yourself and drag your feet through to your bedroom. It’s just as it was before you left. Never feeling personal nor lived in. Certainly never feeling safe.
But you try to block all of that out and focus on what you came here for. The silence is welcomed, despite every little creak and bang putting you on edge, filling you with dread that your father might have returned home early. If you had to face a confrontation with him right now, you wouldn’t have the strength to defend yourself. You’d roll over at the first blow of vitriol.
And so, when you hear the sure sound of the door rattling open, your heart plummets. You freeze, hands bunching the tunic you were folding. Clear, confident footsteps approach.
Azriel appears in the doorway, and you don’t know what to do.
Perhaps facing your father would be easier right now.
He stares at you, his expression guarded. Where he would usually allow you to read his emotions, he wears a cool, flat exterior that even your keen awareness of him cannot get past. It’s deliberate — an act of self-preservation.
It makes you want to cry, just realising that he feels the need to do that around you. He never has before.
“What are you doing here?” You rasp, clearing a lump from your throat. “I thought…I mean…I would have come to find you, but I thought you needed space.”
Az nods. “I do.” He says. “I’m not…not ready to talk about anything yet.”
“Then why—”
“I made you a promise a long time ago.” He steps closer, stares at you in a way that is…quiet. You notice the dark smudges that sit beneath his eyes as he continues, “I made you a promise that I would be there for you, no matter what. And I didn’t keep that promise on Solstice, but I’m keeping it now. Even if I’m not ready to confront things yet…I won’t let you face this alone.”
After twenty-four hours of tears, you were certain you’re all cried out.
But tears fill your eyes again, and you feel like the broken pieces of your heart are breaking even more.
Azriel knows, better than anybody, how difficult it is for you to come back to this house. To face so many of the demons that you fought against with him by your side. He knows that you may have told Roza that you were fine, that you could do it alone, but you’re not, and you can’t.
You never wanted to do this alone. You just didn’t want to do it with anyone but Azriel.
And despite being hurt, and angry, and confused…he’s here.
“How did you…” You clear your throat again. “How did you know?”
“Was flying above. Saw you with Roza.” He strides further into the room and goes straight to one of the drawers in your dresser. “Are you taking everything?”
You’re still a little stunned, but you manage a nod. Your everything is, in fact, not much at all.
Az begins to fold your clothes and sort them into piles. He’s completely silent. Doesn’t even look at you. But a shadow reaches out and tickles your arm.
There’s so much you want to say to him. You also just want to throw your arms around him. Apologise, and apologise, and apologise.
But you’ll always respect his boundaries. He isn’t ready. So you return to the task and work just as silently as he is.
It’s a little while later, when he’s moved on to your small gathering of keepsakes, that he speaks again.
“Do you want to take this?” He turns to you.
In his hand is the little wooden owl carving he made for your thirteenth birthday. The damned thing has seen you shed so many tears, stayed clutched in your palm through so many nightmares. Never will you ever part with it.
“Always.” You answer quietly. “I’ll always take it wherever I go.”
His gaze lingers on you for a moment, and then he nods. Tucks the trinket into the pocket of your satchel. You watch the entire thing with a gaping wound in your heart.
“Az?” You murmur, and he glances at you over your shoulder. “…Thank you…”
His eyes catch yours again, and then he’s dipping his chin. “I made you a promise.” He says again.
You don’t speak another word to each other after that.
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As soon as you’re finished, Azriel is taking to the skies once more. He doesn’t bid you goodbye.
Roza appears almost immediately, and she takes in your scant belongings with a pitying look.
“Come, little dove.” She reaches for your bag. “Let’s get out of the cold.”
“Let me carry that, Roz.” You say. “You’re pregnant. And the cottage isn’t far—”
But your words cut off when, with a wave of her hand, she’s spiriting all of your belongings away, into thin air. You cock an eyebrow.
“We’re not going back to the cottage.” She says. “I’m taking you to Velaris.”
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WHO IS THE HOTTEST JANE AUSTEN MAN ? THE FINAL
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Propaganda...
Captain Wentworth (1995):
Ciaran Hinds has that perfect ruggedness yet friendliness to his face that makes him the perfect charming Wentworth. And all of the longing that he manages to convey in his eyes is so hot.
Wentworth may be angry/resentful with Anne but in general he is charming and the best friend you could ever have. Ciaran gets the pleasant parts of his character and brings them out, while keeping a guarded coolness (protective camouflage) with Anne.
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I dunno if this counts as propaganda or not, but Ciaran Hinds has a face that looks like it was jackhammered out of a shale cliff.
If a line like 'I am half agony...half hope' comes out of a face like that you know that man has a soul for poetry.
I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others. Too good, too excellent creature! You do us justice, indeed. You do believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men. Believe it to be most fervent, most undeviating, in
F. W.
I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I shall return hither, or follow your party, as soon as possible. A word, a look, will be enough to decide whether I enter your father's house this evening or never.  
This is propaganda for the next round because I need my boy to be a finalist! But this letter is all the persuasion I need to know that he is a winner
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Ciarán Hinds in this is a whole other level of "a good man" He makes Anne's decision at the end so much more perfect.
LOOK
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HOW
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HE
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YEARNS
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The yearning the yearning - JLM gives a great look but Captain Wentworth is the king of longing stares. He's trying sooo hard to hate her sooo hard to get over her - 8 years and he thinks he's ready to face her and move on but no he has to notice she's exhausted on the walk, that her nephew is being overwhelming, that she should be dancing and not just playing the piano for everyone else. And even though he's jealous later on when Mr Elliott gives her an "admiring look" in lime he's pleased for her because he knows she deserves to be admired and cherished even if he's angry that he wasn't able to be the one she let admire and cherish her. I just this man - he loves Anne so much and it's so so hot.
Propaganda for Captain Wentworth.
I've always loved Persuasion and so I was voting for him in his polls anyway, but I had never seen the 1995 adaptation. So because of this blog I decided to check it out.
Well. Now I'm obsessed. I came into this tournament fully expecting to vote Firth Darcy to victory. Ciaran Hinds suddenly showed up and sparta kicked him to curb. His every look, every gesture is laden with longing. He's so tender with Anne but then the barely restrained rage in his voice when he speaks to Lady Russell. He's rugged and manly yet tender and considerate.
I BURN, I PINE, I PERISH
If you're wondering why you should vote for Wentworth 95 in the @hotjaneaustenmenpoll, it's because he's got something hot for everyone.
Do you think it's hot when a man dresses up fancy? He looks very dapper in his uniform! Or do you find it more sexy when a man is more casual, a little mussed up, maybe even a little grimy? He does that perfectly too!
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Do you find men hot when they're being tender and restrained? Or do you find men hot when they're losing control a bit, maybe getting a bit passionate with anger or jealousy?
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Do you like a refined man of culture? Or a rugged outdoorsman?
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A warm smile? Or something more broody?
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Someone who's the life of the party, boisterous, laughing, charming? Or the strong silent type, serious, calm, mysterious?
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Hinds's Wentworth does all of these sexy things brilliantly! You cannot lose with him, he's got it all!
II ranked Wentworth as the #1 Austen man in terms of fuckability, and I stand behind that when it comes to Wentworth 95 versus Knightley 09.
Is Wentworth 95 angry sometimes? Yeah. But that's hot, at least coming from Ciaran Hinds' ruggedly handsome face. Have you heard of makeup sex? Tell me Wentworth 95 and Anne don't have the most scorching hot angry makeup sex imaginable 🥵
And yet Wentworth 95 is also super tender! The slow, gentle, worshipful way he kisses Anne at the end?? So beautiful and hot. The longing way he looks at Anne in silence. The way he is so solicitous of Anne's comfort to put her on the carriage with his sister! You can just tell he's gonna take the time to worship his wife in bed.
And let's not forget that he writes the most romantic letter ever written! The depth of passion in this man, my god! 🔥💕🔥
This is not a who is the better man contest, or who is the more faithful to the book, or who would you most want to marry. This is a hotness contest, and Wentworth 95 is so fucking hot.
Mr Darcy (1995):
Colin Firth (1995) is book Darcy brought to life. He uses tiny gestures and looks to communicate with us and Elizabeth… his struggle is so subtle but so palpable. A beautiful asshole with a creamy nougat center. Just perfect.
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Those heart-eyes right up above☝️? Hot!
Passive-agressively drinking tea? Hot!
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The way he rushes over to see Elizabeth at Pemberley on those delicious long legs of his with that slutty wet curl hanging over his forehead? Hot!
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Fencing? Hot!
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The way he is so concerned about Elizabeth crying and takes her hand even though he shouldn't? Hot!
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This dimple-y smile of pure joy because he knows he's married to Elizabeth freaking Bennet? Hot!
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Colin Firth Darcy is simultaneously immaculately put together and entirely falling apart internally. The wet shirt scene is so iconic not (only) because ‘oooh almost-shirtless sexy man’, but because it’s a metaphor for how he’s absolutely falling apart!!! This is a private moment, when he doesn’t think anyone can see him. And then he bumps. into. Lizzie. At his house!! And the entire sequence that follows with him rushing out still doing his jacket up to catch her before he leaves. They are both on the back foot and it’s THAT moment of confusion that opens a more honest dialogue between them.
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Without Firth in a lake you wouldn’t get Macfadyen in a downpour!
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There's a reason why Colin Firth is forever known as Mr. Darcy above all other roles he's had and will have! Even ignoring the wet white shirt, which has become A Thing now, he is so hot with his curly hair and his little half smiles and his intense looks of longing and his legs that go on for milessss.
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This cannot be real. My fellow Jane Austen people. Without Colin Firth’s Darcy we wouldn’t have 90% of modern JA content. He opened a door and there was no turning back for modern culture. There would be no MacFadyen standing half undressed in a field at dawn without Firth jumping into a lake first. There would be no hand flex if there hadn’t been Firth doing his best impression of a man undressing Elizabeth Bennet with his eyes and hating himself for liking it. There would be no Bridgerton without Bridget Jones. Let’s face it people. We wouldn’t be here having these arguments if Colin Firth had not been Mr Darcy.
Colin Firth understood Mr. Darcy in a way no other actor ever has. He is awkward as fuck in a way that comes across as snooty and judgmental on a first watch-through, then can be read as awkward and longing on a second time. His performance had such depth while looking extremely shallow at first glance. This man WAS Mr. Darcy. (I love 2005, as well, and I love Matthew McFayden, but he was awkward for awkward sake.) Colin Firth made Darcy's awkward look snooty and aloof.
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THE socially awkward Darcy is the 1995 Darcy - look at him coming and sitting in awkward silence with Elizabeth pointedly asking her if she wants to live a long way from her family (to obvious relief) and then abruptly leaving - vote for him please 😭😭😭😭
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Colin Firth served so much as Darcy that when they did Bridget Jone's diary, they brought him back.... AS DARCY. The smoulder. The angst. The man is the quintessential Darcy.
“Firthing” is an actual term that is used now to describe someone yearning intensely. It is named after Colin Firth’s Mr Darcy performance.
Colin Firth all the way. He's known in our household as Owl Eyes because in every frame he's mooning over Elizabeth Bennet. Unsurpassable, unmatched, golden television (and some of the worst dancing you've ever seen).
Colin has beautiful, touchable curls.
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My high school English teacher was very into using movies to teach alongside literature, which was a great teaching tool. When we read Pride and Prejudice, he used both 2005 and 1995 for various scenes. What stands out to me all these years later was when it got to the part when Lizzy went to help Georgiana after Caroline dropped Mr. Wickham's name and Darcy gives Lizzy this look:
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My teacher stopped the film and pointed at Darcy's face and said, "See that? That is THE look. If someone ever looks at you like that, you know they're in love." And what is hotter than that?
Also this teacher had two cats named Lizzy and Darcy. Not relevant to the poll but I wanted you all to know about them.
Colin Firth dazzles and amazes in the nuanced performance that just blows all other attempts away.
The best thing about the Colin Firth wet shirt scene is actually the scene that follows where him and Lizzie are both just dyinggg of embarrassment but Darcy pulls himself together refuses to lose his advantage and runs to get dressed and chase her down before she leaves - just the mix of cringe and hopefulness at seeing her again is so well done and so attractive!!! (this is just the bit where he's running after her but I love it all!)
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f1byjessie · 3 months
Text
HE LIKES MY AMERICAN SMILE ━━ OP81.
love is a wild ride, and logan sargeant's sister is about to find this out the hard way.
( oscar piastri x sargeant!reader )
━━ part one.
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yourusername yeehaw (bahrain edition)
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user the only person more american than logan is his sister
logansargeant imagine spending more time with a horse than your own twin brother
↳ yourusername don't need to bc i did
↳ logansargeant this is the cyber bullying mom warned me about
↳ yourusername do you wanna see bullying? cuz i'll show you bullying
user oh to be a girl at the beach during sunset
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tagged: logansargeant
yourusername baby's first f1 race! kick some ass logie! 🫶
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logansargeant thank you but we're literally the same age??
↳ yourusername umm i think you're mistaken cuz last i checked i was still a minute older
user LOGIE I'M DECEASED
user y/n giving us the low qual logan content we've been craving
williamsracing Best of luck to Logan! We're happy to have him as part of the team!
user WTF IS A KILOMETERRRRR RAHHHH 🦅🦅🦅
oscarpiastri i don't even wanna know how far back you had to scroll in your gallery to find that last picture
↳ yourusername careful piastri, i have some of you too and i'm not afraid to use them
↳ oscarpiastri noted.
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logansargeant could've been better, could've been worse, but i couldn't have asked for a better cheerleader this weekend. everyone's jealous they ain't got a sister like mine
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user RAAAAHH!! USA!! USA!! USA!! 🦅💥
alex_albon could really feel the williams love all weekend long 💙
yourusername i mean i GUESS i have to take my job as your sister seriously SOMETIMES
↳ oscarpiastri as opposed to the rest of the time when you're mortal enemies
↳ yourusername i'm glad SOMEONE understands
user am i the only one who didn't know logan had another sibling???
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f1paddockgossip_official Y/N Sargeant, sister to new Williams driver Logan Sargeant, makes her F1 paddock debut this weekend at the Bahrain Grand Prix! With such a bright demeanor, it was hard to miss her! It's only the first race of the 2023 season, and we hope to be seeing her around more often.
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user THAT'S WHO THAT WAS???
user she's our all american girl and we love her
user nothing more american than twins
↳ user this literally makes no sense?? what??
user FORGET THE DRIVERS I WANNA MEET HER 😍
user becoming a logan fan just for his sister
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yourusername goodbye bahrain, you were a wonderful experience
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user will you be at the saudi arabian gp???
williamsracing We hope to see you at more races Y/N! Thanks for coming out to support our team! 💙
↳ yourusername of course! i had the time of my life!
user who needs to be a wag when you can just be the sister of a driver and get the same benefits
user is this supposed to be a reference to oscar's post??
↳ user wait omg is it?
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oscarpiastri goodbye bahrain, you were everything.
comments have been disabled
━━ a/n: oh gosh, this is my first time posting anything like this on tumblr so i hope it's good! more to come eventually! still trying to figure out a style, so please excuse any mistakes or discrepancies!
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fookinfandoms · 2 years
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tatties | 18+
pairing: eddie munson x female reader
plot: During a night at your friends, it’s revealed that Eddie isn't the only one with tattoos. The metalhead is determined to find out just where exactly you're marked. 
authors note: pls let me know if he feels toooooo out of character! I hope this is okay :) Please leave some feedback! I’m a whore for words. 
NOT EDITED, I’ll do it later.
word count: 4.6k words. oops
warnings: 18+. minors dni, I'll kick you across the pacific, language, dirty talk, oral & fingering (f! receiving), grinding
another authors note: I can hear this gif. I like it. 86’ baby 🤸🏽
taglist: @starsxmoonsx​ @imconfused28 @phobles-world @that-lame-ghoul9000​ @arwen-rose​ @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives​ @creepytoes88​ @manofworm @bamitzzsam​ @takemetoneverland420​ @shortstoriesbyher
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Everyone sat on the floor in Gareth’s basement, faint music being drowned out by the loud yelling of the boys as they fight over another game. Eddie and yourself shared a beanbag, his legs spread slightly to give you room between him. His arms lay over your shoulder, his hands playing aimlessly with the chain around your neck. 
“Would you believe it if I said I was stupidly hard right now?” Eddie mumbles into your ear, immediately grinning as you begin to laugh at his reveal. “I wouldn’t move that much if I were you.” 
“Wait,” You say through heavy chuckles. “You’re telling me that’s not your belt digging into my back?” 
His arms squeeze around your shoulders a little tighter before his hands land on your arms. He rubs them in a tender way, shrugging a little in the process. “I can neither confirm nor deny.”
You slap at his thigh from its position at your side and it was Eddie’s turn to laugh as you call him a perv. He sighs as you lean your head back on his chest, Eddie giving your forehead a quick kiss. “I’m your perv though.”
“Lucky me,” You joke, knowing Eddie was no doubt rolling his eyes. “Y’know most boyfriend’s whisper poetry or some corny shit into their girls ear, but I am so glad mine tells me when he’s got a raging boner in his friends basement.” 
“Hey hey hey, you give me a raging boner no matter where we are, I think that’s super romantic.” He joins in, the two of you continuing the back and forth for a little while as the night goes on.
Gareth’s mom had brought down pizza shortly after, and you now sat on the ground by Eddie feet, having finished a game of cards with Jeff. It was fun, but soon after the music started repeating and most of the games had been played. D&D was off the table, and you all now sat in a circle in an attempt to come up with a plan. 
Eddie couldn’t be too far away from you and he slowly scooted closer, the tips of his fingers ghosting yours before he slides his hand over to intertwine your hand with his. You flinch a little at the feeling, Eddie’s eyebrows furrowing at the reaction.
“Your rings are cold.” You answer, knowing what he was wondering. He gives you a small smile, his head tilting at your words. 
“Well now you can help warm them up sweetheart.” He replies, and before you can do the same, someone gags from beside you.
Jeff gives the two of you a disgusted look, his tongue out again as he gags. Everyone laughs at his reaction knowing he wasn’t a fan of PDA. With your free hand you reach over and pat his cheek. “You’ll know how to talk to girls when you’re older bud, it’s okay!” 
He slaps your hand away, mumbling something as you all laugh harder at the faint blush on his cheeks. Soon enough, the laughter died down and everyone was throwing ideas for another game.
“Truth or dare?” You speak up, head tilted as you already began thinking about possible dares. “Pretty simple game in my eyes.”
A few mumbles of sure and other agreements met your ears, and you started the game. “Okay then, Mike, truth or dare?”
The teen sat across from you in the circle, and he sat backwards on his palms as he answered. “Dare.” 
“Sniff Jeff’s armpit for ten seconds.” You laughed instantly at his visual disgust, his mouth open in shock as your cruel dare. 
Gareth shakes his head at the dare whilst Eddie squeezes your hand as he beams down at you. “Now that’s super gross, I’m proud.” 
Mike reluctantly crawls over to Jeff, the teen already having his arm up ready. Mike glares at you as he reaches his destination. “I am so giving you a bad truth or dare when it’s your turn.” He says your name with malice before slowly turning his head, his nose meeting it’s doom. 
Eddie had a truth after that, having to pick a teacher he would French, Dustin choosing two elderly candidates much to his dismay. Afterwards, Gareth was dared to put on his mom’s makeup, you proving to be quite the makeup artist.
Mike stayed true to his word after all, and when it was your turn you chose dare. “Are you sure you want to pick dare?” He jests, his eyes narrowing at you from his spot in the Hellfire circle.
“Hit me with it.” You sit upright, your eyebrow raised as you wait for your dare. Before Mike can say anything, Eddie is pointing at him, a stern expression on his face. 
“No kissing, no stripping, if you even so much as think about bra’s I am taking off your fingernails and wearing them as earrings. Got it Wheeler?.” Your boyfriend threatens, Mike nodding at the Hellfire leader.
“Got it,” He answers, swallowing as Eddie gives him a thumbs up. “I wasn’t gonna’ do anything like that anyway, not towards her anyways.” “What’ya mean kid?” Eddie asks for you, and already you felt uneasy knowing you were at the darers mercy of a teenager.
“I was going to dare her to take off your socks.” 
“Well that’s not so bad all thin-“ Mike cuts you off before you can finish. Of course, there was no way he was going to go easy.
“With her teeth.” He finishes, his head turning back to you with an overly friendly smile. For what felt like the hundredth time that night, everyone laughed. It was your turn now to have a disgusted expression, your head turning towards Eddie who wasn’t sure what kind of reaction to have.
He wanted to laugh with the boys, but judging by your horrified look, he decided against it. He had to give it to the kid, he had a good revenge plan. “If it makes you feel any better, I actually put on a clean pair today.”  
“Yeah, they were clean at 6am this morning,” You whine at him, shivering in disgust at the idea of Eddie’s socks. “Those puppies have been cooking in there all day!”
“You gotta do it!” Mike pipes up, laughing at the way you flip him the bird. Eddie already begins to kick off his converses, and you cringe at the reveal. 
With heavy reluctance, you finish the dare, squealing and dry retching the entire way. Eddie squirmed at the feeling, almost feeling giddy at your touch. When it was completed, you kneel in front of Eddie, his eyes levelled with yours. His eyes were wide with humour, the complete opposite of yours as they narrowed. “If I look down and see a tent in those jeans… I am going to be so grossed out Eddie Munson.” 
He grins at you, shaking his head. “Does it count if I’m still hard from before?” He jokes, chuckling as you again fake vomit in his lap. He reaches forward, pulling you into his arms. You turn at an awkward angle, and like the start of the night you end up in his lap.
After a few more truths and dares from the nerds, you began playing with the lighter Gareth was dared to steal from his stepdad. Eddie had known you were in need of a new one and was the one to give his friend said dare. You were busy, distracted by the small flame to not notice Dustin calling your name.
“Truth or dare?” He asks as you finally stare at him, and the lighter is placed into Eddie’s pocket as you think.
“I don’t think I can handle anymore feet related dares so I’ll go with truth.” You grimace at the thought, ignoring the way Mike smirks. Evil.
“How many tattoos do you have?” Dustin couldn’t think of anything to ask, having used the tattoos on Eddie’s arms as inspiration. 
“She doesn’t have any Henderson.” The metalhead answers from behind you, to which you turn around to give him a confused look. 
“Except I do,” You say, wondering if he was in fact playing around. “Are you playing right now?” “Am I playing? Are you?” Eddie gives you a weird look, confusion more than evident in his brown eyes. 
“Oh my god,” You use Eddie’s legs as leverage as you stand up off the ground, keeping your eyes on him from his position below. “You’re being serious aren’t you?”
“I think I would know if you had any tatties.” He was hinting towards your many, many activities together that don’t require clothes, his brain trying to think over whether or not lately he had seen any new addition to your skin. 
“I was wondering why you hadn’t said anything, I actually thought you were just pretending not to notice but wow.” He was being serious right now, he really hadn’t seen it. 
Eddie’s birthday was coming up and he was adamant about not wanting anything. Not wanting to annoy him with gifts he didn’t want, you had gotten a tattoo for him. It was already a month old, and you were waiting for his birthday to reveal it was actually for him thinking he had already seen it. 
He goes to say something but you hold your finger up, not wanting to discuss it more in front of your friends. You turn to Dustin, the boy looking almost apologetic for asking. “I have one, technically six but it’s in one spot so.” 
“Six?” Eddie says rather loudly from the ground, his mouth shutting quickly as you again hold out your finger. You sit back down beside your boyfriend as he gives you a once over, his eyes scanning your arms and bare legs to spot any potential artwork.
The once usual chatterbox of the group remained quiet for the rest of the night, even when the others excused themselves to go home. Gareth had already pulled out the couch bed for both you and Eddie, sleepovers being a regular occurrence as you didn’t like driving late on a Friday night. 
Soon enough, you were left in the basement with your now quiet metal head, the music having been turned off and the host going to his own bed upstairs. Your overnight bag rested on a table and you searched its contents for your pyjamas, noticing the lack of clothing in the shared duffle bag. “Hey Eds’ did you pack m-“ “You were lying about the tattoos right?” He interrupts you and you put the bag down, turning around to lean against the tables edge. 
Eddie stands just a few metres away, he himself leaning against a beam with his arms crossed. The lights had been dimmed just a little, but they did nothing to hide the way Eddie’s jaw clenched.
“Have I ever lied to you?” It was true, you had never lied to Eddie and you certainly weren’t starting now.
“It’s just,” Eddie’s head tilts, his arm raising as he points at you in an almost teasing way. “I have seen nearly every inch of your body baby,” He says your pet name again, this time lowly. “If you’re telling me I've missed a spot, I’m going to feel very... very... wounded.”
“Well baby,” You reply, pushing yourself off the table and walking closer towards him. Slowly, you stand in front of him, raising your head to stare at him through your lashes. “I hate to break it to you, but you’ve definitely missed a spot.”
He frowns for a split second, his eyes narrowing as you give him a teasing smile. “Bullshit.”
“Cross my heart,” You do just that, swiping across your shirt to where your heart resides. “I swear on your guitar.”
“Oh shit.” 
“Oh shit indeed,” The room quickly started heating up, or more so you were at the way Eddie watched you. His brown eyes were noticeably darker, and so you reaches your hands forwards to hold onto his. He followed your movements, letting you hold his hand. “I actually got it for your birthday.” “My birthday?” He repeats, and you hold his hand up to your lips, kissing the back of his hand as you nod.
“I really am surprised you haven’t noticed, but when I think about it more I remember you’ve been a big fan of having me on my hands and knees lately.” Eddie instantly becomes flustered, knowing you were right. Doggy had become one of his favourite positions lately, purely because of the feeling and being able to watch himself disappear inside of you. Also because of your ass. Anyways.
“C-Can I see it? Or do I have to wait for my birthday?” He mumbles, cursing for almost sounding like he was begging. 
“Of course baby,” You pull back, dropping his hands in the process. He bites his lip almost in anticipation, wondering just where it could be. He knew it wasn’t on your back, that was one thing he was sure about. You unzip your skirt from the back, letting it fall to the ground in one swift movement. 
Stepping out of the pile on the floor, Eddie quickly looks around your now exposed thighs, frowning as he notices nothing. “I never thought I’d see you look so upset to see me in my panties.”
“Trust me, I am loving the Winnie the Pooh look right now,” He jests, his fists clenching in hopes you don’t notice just how much he is loving it. You were wearing his favourite pair, and he hoped you were wearing the matching bra. “Just wondering where these six tatties are hiding.” 
Without answering - you grab the bottom of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head and letting it go to match your skirt on the ground. 
Yeah, matching bra. Eddie praises you in his head, knowing you definitely had something planned for the two of you tonight. Almost focusing too much on your matching set, Eddie’s gaze follows the swell of your breasts before focusing on your sternum. His eyes widen at the art before him, your boyfriend stepping closer to you as he kneels in front of your tattoo. 
There in all of it’s glory were six little bats, matching the exact tattoo Eddie had on his forearm. “Two actually get covered when I take my bra off,” You break the silence, noticing Eddie was yet to say anything about his birthday present. “Forgot gravity was a thing y’know?”
“Do you have any idea how hot you are?” He stands tall once more before he himself reaches down to grab at his shirt, having already shredded his jacket earlier. Eddie  pulls his shirt off with ease, his hands immediately reaching for his belt. He curses your name as you drag your nails down between his pecs gently, the feeling making him shiver.  “Shit.” 
“So you’re not mad?” You whisper, not realising he would react this way towards some ink.
“Mad? My girl gets a matching tattoo and puts it in one of my favourite places,” Eddie shakes his head at your question, pulling his belt out of its loops before throwing it to the ground. “Nowhere near mad, just really fucking hard.”
Oh.
“Do you, fuck, do you think we should really be fucking on Gareth’s couch?” He gives you a pointed stare for even bringing your friends name up. You shrug at him, pointing back towards the small frame of the pullout bed a few metres away.
“That old things squeaks more than you do,” God Eddie looked good like this, almost like was starving and ready to devour you. His jeans were long lost to the growing pit of clothes on the floor, the two of you standing in just your underwear. 
You ignore the comment about your noises, knowing Eddie was far from complaining. Your mouth opens to ask where he had his eyes on when he almost jumps on you, the words getting lost in your thoat. 
His hands grab at your hips, picking you up and sitting you on the edge of the table behind. Eddie keeps on hand on your bare hip, the other swiping away at your overnight bag and letting it fall to the ground with a thud. A oof leaves your lips at the action, Eddie quickly stepping in between the space of your parted thighs. 
“What if someone hears us?” There were three people upstairs that could potentially hear the pair of you, and Eddie turns his head to look at the basements door. 
He frowns for just a second, immediately shrugging as he faces back to you. “I think we could be quiet.” You just give him a blank stare to which he just shrugs again. “Just say the word and we’ll go to bed.” 
There was no way in hell you were sleeping, not with how flustered he had gotten you. You shake your head, Eddie pushing away at the hair that how fallen around your cheeks. Your legs tighten around his behind, pushing him closer towards you as you lock him in. 
He mutters your name, the hand in your hair sliding down your cheek to grip at your chin as Eddie tilts your head up, his dark brown eyes keeping you focused.
“Do you want this?” He leans forward a little, his lips ghosting your own as his nose gently touches yours. “Say the word baby and we’ll get those damn pyjamas on.”
“Something,” You pull him in for a small kiss, revelling in the way he begins to grin. You part, just enough for him to reach forward again to lick at your lips as you go to speak. “Tells me you might not want to go to sleep just yet.” 
Nodding towards his straining cock in his boxers. He shrugs, not at all ashamed at the way he had absently been rubbing his front against your own. Eddie was never embarrassed at how you made him feel, and any fears in the past had definitely gone out the window. 
You reached up to his chest, dragging your nails over the various tattoos littering his pale skin. He watches your movements, shivering as you drag a nail lightly over his nipple. “I’ll sleep if you want, s’okay, really.”
The last few words came out a little more strained, and you quirked your eyebrow at him. “Eddie, I don’t want to sleep.”
“Thank god,” He fakes a prayer with his hand, laughing lowly as you smack his chest. “Because I really wanna’ do this.”
Eddie strokes your chin, the coolness of his rings a quick shock to your skin. You sigh, and his thumb slides over your bottom lip. He tilts his head, his dark hair sliding over his broad shoulders. “You wanna kiss me?” You mumble against his thumb, hoping he’ll lean forward.  He doesn't, and you sit there anxiously awaiting his next move. His boxers itch at your thighs as he takes a closer step, his head however staying away. His eyes stay fixated on you, and he takes in a small breath. “You just look so good.”
You felt unbearably warm, your slick having already begun to dampen your panties and the front of Eddie’s underwear. He quirks his eyebrow at the small wet patch, and you fought the urge to hide yourself against his shoulder. 
Eddie curses again, taking in a ragged breath and he places his hands on the table, resting just beside your parted thighs. Within seconds, Eddie has slunk to  his knees, his eyes focused on you as he stares through his messy bangs. “Eddie?” You ask, shivering as his hands begin to slide down from your thighs, over your knees to your calves, the heat of his hands stroking your smooth skin.
He parts your thighs even wider, making sure to press a kiss to your right knee as he pulls them over his shoulders. Your breath hitches in your throat as he reaches up to the waistband of your underwear, and you wiggle around helping him remove them from under you. It would've felt awkward had Eddie not looked at you with his brown eyes, his gaze becoming darker with lust as he licks at his lips. 
You’ve been eaten out before, sure, it was one of Eddie’s favourite things to do. But it felt different now, was it the looming threat of someone possibly catching you? Doing this in your friends basement? Probably. He wraps his arms around your thighs in an attempt to pull you closer, his hair instantly tickling you. You reach down, pulling his hair out of eyes as you tuck what you can behind his ears. 
Eddie gives you another kiss, this time to your inner thigh. “S’good like this sweetheart,” He mumbles as he nips at your flushed skin. “Could spend hours down here.” 
Heat had well and truely surrounded you, the tension alone enough to make you tremble. “You really like the tattoo huh?” You managed to say, Eddie glancing up at you with an eyebrow raised. 
Goosebumps litter your skin as you whimper, Eddie choosing to reply with his lips elsewhere. He usually took his time when he was on his knees, but not wanting to push his luck, his head dips further until it reaches heaven. Your mind went empty as Eddie licks a stripe up your pussy. His tongue finding your clit as you jolt beneath him.
Thank god this table was hardwood. 
A loud whine leaves your lips as he leaves a sloppy kiss on the area above your pussy and your hips almost grind against his face in an attempt to feel him where you want him most. Eddie almost chuckled at how needy you were acting, deciding against it when he remembered this was for you after all. 
You buck your hips once more, Eddie’s hands pressing into the skin of your thighs with a powerful grip. “Eddie...” You moan as you felt his tongue glide over your cunt in a slower motion. He stops again, just so he can stare into yours as you bite at your lip. 
“I really wish you could be loud right now,” He forces out, keeping his eyes on you as he lowers his head once more. He circles your clit and trails down to your entrance, continuing his teasing pace as your hands reach for the edge of the table to keep you grounded. “S’good for me, so fucking good.” 
A small cry leaves your lips as he curls his tongue and you can't help but squirm under his tender touch. Eddie revelled in, smiling as one of your hands reaches for his hair and grips it. You tug at his scalp as he presses his tongue flat against your folds, letting your thighs lock him in. 
God the noises he made. His groans were music to your ears, and you cursed yourself for deciding to have a sleepover at Gareth’s instead of Eddie’s - where you both could be as loud as you want. 
Eddie couldn't get enough, wishing he could spend eternity between your legs. He was unbearable hard in his boxers, precum leaking from his swollen tip and dampening his underwear. He decided against releasing himself, choosing to stroke at your skin instead knowing the sight of you alone could make him cum.
Your body grew hotter as a pressing need to release formed deep inside, another whine leaving your lips as you felt Eddie’s tongue stroking your most sensitive area. “You taste so good sweetheart,” His voice sounded different, a dominating yet loving tone meeting your ears. “God I love you.” 
With a shaky breath, you whispered it back, ignoring Eddie’s wink from between your legs. The sight of him on his knees before you was enough alone to make you tingle, and Eddie’s rings left indents in your thighs as he keeps you in place.  He maintained his gaze as he licked in between your wet folds again, dragging it out as you bit your lip in anticipation.
“Eddie,” You moan, quickly shushing yourself as you felt your voice get a little louder than attended. He gives you a pointed but knowing stare. “Eddie please.” 
Your head throws back, losing his gaze as he hits a certain spot. You don't even notice the way Eddie’s hand leaves your thigh as he flicks his rings off, the small pieces of metal scattering on the floor. It’s only when you feel his tongue and his fingers at your hole do you clench around him. 
You're so unbelievably wet, both your slick and Eddie’s spit combining around your thighs and on the table below. You tremble as he pushes in a finger followed by another, tears filling your eyes as he curls them inside. “I wish I could take a photo of this.” He rests his head against your thigh as he thrusts his fingers in and out, absolutely enthralled by the way your clench around him. 
So desperate to cum, your grab at his hair rougher than before, almost begging him to keep his tongue on your clit. “Don’t worry,” He nods against grip. “I got you.” 
He repeats his assault on your pussy, switching it up a little as he licks at your entrance and rubs your throbbing clit with his thumb. Your legs shake as he teased your entrance with the tip of his tongue one again. He pressed his face further into your heat, making you cry out loud until you came undone.
His name left your lips in a silent scream, Eddie licking upwards to suck harder at your clit as you convulsed under him. He groans at your movements, his own hips thrusting into the air as you cum around his lips. Your eyes squeezed shut as you came, Eddie trying hard to keep you on the table as you shifted. Arms weakening by the second, you were certain you were going to collapse forward as Eddie stood up, pulling you into an embrace. 
He held you tightly, your sweaty forehead resting against his chest as you held one hand around his waist, the other absently trailing over the soft tuft of hair disappearing below his underwear. 
“You with me?” Eddie asks, kissing your forehead as you nod against him. He pulled away, just enough to look down at you in his arms. His face glistens with your essence up to his nose, and he gives you a cheeky grin as you wipe at his mouth with the back of your hand. 
“Don’t you want to-” “Already did.” He cuts you off, not at all embarrassed as you looked down at his now softening cock hidden by fabric. Eddie shrugs at you, his free hand moving down to rearrange himself as his cum leaked through.
A small oh leaves your lips, and his grin grew. “You make me cum even when you're not with me sweetheart, having you in my mouth is like,” Eddie makes an explosion noise, his hands mimicking the action. “It’s insane.” 
“That’s oddly cute.” You quip, reaching down to run your hand over his soaked cock. He shivers under your touch, clearly not the only one feeling sensitive. 
“Give me a couple minutes and I’m yours baby.” Eddie stretches out his arms, before pushing you back. With an eyebrow raised, he reaches around to undo your bra, letting the straps slide over your arms. Your nipples were still hard, and Eddie marvels at your breasts as if he was seeing them for the first time. 
“You were right,” Your boyfriend leans forward to kiss above your tattoo. “Two do get covered without the bra.” 
9K notes · View notes
sant-riley · 1 year
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[Task force 141 + others with Gen z!reader] [pt3]
A/N: Some of these you /may/ have seen on tiktok, that is me who posted them on tiktok. I am green haired bitch so no I didn't steal anything LMAO. I hope these live up to yalls expectations.
The last two of these my lovely friend gave me inspiration for <3 @frogchiro
Warnings: She/her pronouns swearing, age gaps, tiktok memes (like always lmk if I miss something!)
~
You steal Prices hat on numerous occasions bc its a fashion abomination and you refuse to let this man wear it around you. You hide around base as frequently as you can.
Jokes on you though bc he will literally wait til it's your birthday and buy you a matching one and will laugh at your scream of disgust.
Gaz one ups him by gifting you a matching hat as well, putting it on your head as he flicks the brim.
"Thanks Gaz! I love it!
"And not mine?"
"You're on thin ice, old man."
Price gets gifted a set from manscaped by the guys as a gag gift. He uses it for his beard bc he never bothered to look into why everyone was laughing around him.
Price takes your phone when you try and show him memes, squinting hard as fuck like a dad 💀
Soap, if yall have the time off takes you to scottish football games and it's a whole thing. You sitting there while he gets drunk out of his fucking mind, hollering and whooping and you're there trying to sink into your seat.
Chances are someone's gonna shove you and you're gonna trip and fall bc everyone's so amped up and Soap threatens to beat the shit out of them. It's a miracle y'all don't get kicked out 💀
If you have tattoos, Soap is the first one to take a marker set and color them in and adding his own additions. If you were ever to get them actually tattooed, he would tear up and pretend he isn't emotional about it.
"You like me that much Bonnie?"
He would get something of you too, so it evens out. This also makes Ghost in turn get a tattoo for you bc he refuses to be out done and he's just as attached
Neither of them get your call sign or your name, but they get something personal to what each of them associate you with.
The first time you meet Alex, you're across the room doing something that has your focus and didn't realize this is actually your first time meeting him. You ask him for a hand only to look up and see him extend his prosthetic at you with a smile and you scream.
"You asked for a hand but best I can do is a Leg." Price comes running and he sees the scene and rolls his eyes.
Everyone single one of them are the definition of "my girl can wear whatever she wants bc I'll break your jaw." meme btw. You can take care of yourself but you never need to bc they will beat a bitch up.
Laswell invites you constantly to come over and meet with her wife, esp if you don't have a mother figure. She always always tries to come on base to see you and always has a birthday and Christmas present on it's way to you wherever you may be. Her wife loves you to death and they've pretty much adopted you and you cannot escape it, oh well.
Gaz buys you whatever your little heart desires, especially if he's deployed away in a country where they sell exclusives of whatever you enjoy. It's a pain in the fucking ass to try and ship a anime figure to your place from Japan but he's gonna try his best.
Ghost doesn't share his food, or at least it was before you came along. He groans and grumbles about having to feed you but he wouldn't do it if he truly didn't want to. Soap asks and Ghost tells him to fuck off.
If you watch anime, please imagine trying to get everyone in the room and trying to explain who Dabi is. They're all so fucking old they keep thinking you're referring to the elf from Harry Potter and it infuriates you to no end.
Soap and Gaz know better but it's funnier to see you mad.
Being the youngest, they absolutely force you to do the jobs they don't want to. Whether it be cleaning the barracks, to cooking dinner when able, it doesn't matter bc they'll all pull rank on you.
"You're the new kid, get to it then."
"Ghosttttt-"
"Don't Ghost me."
Soap is the kind of motherfucker to play the fifa games and doesn't understand that he's stupid for buying it every single year bc there are no changes oncesoever. He will not listen to you about it and you've given up.
Ghost will see you talk about your etsy list and will ask for your phone, you trust him so of course you hand it over. He hands it back to you and it's just, all purchased. He says nothing while he sips on his tea while you scream at him asking why he did it. He won't tell you but it's because he knows it makes you happy and it'll keep your mood up, giving you a reason to be motivated to get through missions. It's also because he knows that retail therapy is a thing for your generation.
Soap, if you do any, is actually really good at doing your makeup! He knows how to do everything and he refuses to elaborate. (As a kid he'd do his mom's makeup when she went out for dates) he's the one who helps you doll up if you're going undercover.
Ghost, Gaz and Price find you unfunny whenever you make a "wow I wish British people were real." You say it so often and it gets annoying but they also just accept it's a part of life.
Soap personally enjoys the "SCOTLAND FOREVERRRRRRR" meme and will scream it with you. Ghost threatens to cut yalls tongue out.
Other parts can be found under #Kayla writes <3
Taglist:
@devilsfoodcake22 @simon-rileys-princess
@stupid-ninja @milkmily
@lune-la-chanson @tamayakii
@teacupcollector @sweet-as-an-angel
@perilous-pasta @ihatethisappsomuchitpains
@marsbar127xx @baddump
@xncasi @king-cookiex
@palomaxaxaxa @amatchasky @wolfyland07 @diejager
@hailstrum18 @pretty-little-bunny382728 @mzfandom
If you'd like to be tagged, go to my pinned post and comment there :)
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adventuringblind · 3 months
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Don't Leave Us
Lestappen x Reader
Genre: angst, hurt/comfort
Summary: With the mass amount of online hate and a relationship that's not public, it all gets too much.
Warnings: graphic depictions of self-harm, graphic depictions of suicide
Notes: I hope you're doing okay, Nonny! Maybe this will help you like it does me :)
side note: I am not above begging for interaction. Fill my inbox with feral driver thoughts! Interact with my posts! It feeds my praise kink and makes me giggle and kick my feet 🥰
Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi
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It's not like the toxicity of social media is a new thing. She's always known that it could happen. She just wasn't expecting it to be so... much.
Her relationship with Max and Charles isn't out for the public. There are dangers that come with opening that up for everyone to get a glimpse of. Reporters waiting to make snide remarks. Fans that want to bash on the drivers they dislike.
Plus, she's not famous. People don't notice her. At least - they didn't until recently.
Some WAG account had managed to get photos of her with either Max or Charles. Not the three of them together. Speculative fans determined she must be playing both of them.
Not all of them, some people defend her. Those comments make her cry out of relief that at least someone isn't trying to tear her down.
She doesn't bring it up to either of the boys. They have enough on their plates as is. Stress and sickness become her new best excuses to not go out in public.
Sure, she's isolating herself and not talking to anyone. Carmen and Lily keep trying. She's just not ready to show her face.
Nothing is sacred anymore. The rumors are too much. Even avoiding all social media isn't enough. She can't even leave her house without someone trying to discreetly take her photo.
Her skin burns with attention every time she steps out the door. She can't eat knowing people are always looking at her. She can't even go to the shop to get groceries or to her mailbox.
It gets worse by the day. Soon enough, someone figures out where she lives. Knowing she has a stalker makes every ounce of security she once had vanish.
It's miserable seeing her information leaked out for everyone to see. Privacy is now a luxury of the past. It's enough to send her spiraling.
When her safety is called into question, Max and Charles bring her to Monaco. They are willing to risk it for her. Their attempt at giving her some piece of mind by staying in the same apartment only makes her thoughts darker.
She's the reason there is so much negative publicity. The sharks are circling them, just waiting for one wrong move. Is she ready to be the catalyst for her lovers' downfall?
The thought sends her stomach up her throat. The thoughts swirl around her head, paralyzing her body into a perpetual state of fear. Stuck in a luxurious Monaco penthouse. Because people being toxic and stalking her is such a horrible problem to have. She should just suck it up; pretend everything is fine.
So then, why is it so hard? Why can't she just be alright?
One week. A plan in her head and a smile plastered on her face. The boys haven't asked about it. Their concern shows in the facial expressions, but they don't push. Maybe it would be better if they did. Send her already crumbling walls to the ground.
She deep cleans on Monday. She does her best to make sure the apartment isn't in disarray, that her own things are packed away, so they won't have much to deal with. The contrasting red and blue of Max and Charles' clothes are the only things left in the closet when she's done.
Speculations start again on Tuesday. Max and Charles spend all day in some PR meeting about it. It gives her time to sort out her affairs without them hearing her. She cooks them dinner to help ease the frustrations. Their teams don't want them to come out, but they do.
Wednesday, they leave to their next destination. She doesn't leave the hotel room despite the concerns of others. Carmen and Lily come around at some point. They eat in with her and kick out the boys. It feels normal for the first time in months. She almost breaks and tells them.
Thursday is media day. She feels for both boys as they get asked invasive questions about their love life. They look stressed. She gets hugged a little tighter that night. It calms the thoughts, but it's not enough. They hurt more every day. She's just wants it to stop.
Practice on Friday goes well for both. Max and Charles are in better spirits. She drags herself out to eat with them. the boys don't care who sees. She does. The anxiety nearly suffocates her. eyes crawling over her skin. Please, make it stop.
Saturday is a wreck. The qualifying is difficult for both her partners. Their relationship status is once again coming under fire. The speculating is becoming extreme, enough for the whispering of the paddock to become deafening to her ears. She spends her time hiding away, writing her last thoughts in messy scrawl.
Sunday, they turn the weekend around. The podium has always suited them. Smiling for everyone to see and dousing each other in champagne. She smiles too, even though it hurts.
They fly back to Monaco that night. Conversation turns to going public despite team wishes. They are willing to risk it for her. She can't bring herself to say yes. They worked hard to live their dreams; she won't ruin it for them.
Monday comes around again. The notes are laying out on the table. The boys are with their friends, some kind of brunch get together.
She leaves the bathroom door unlocked.
The bath filled, her clothes still on. Her thoughts finally still. Tears streak down her face.
The water is cold.
Then it's red.
~~~~~
"I worry about leaving her alone." Charles pulls the car back into its spot.
"Well, if we brough her along it wouldn't be much of a surprise, yes?" Max checks his watch again. "Plus, what could she have done in the fifteen minutes we were gone?"
They haul the ridiculous number of snacks to the front door. They decided last week they would see if they could coax the female out of her depressive state, just for a little while. Maybe get her to confide in them. If not, then at the very least a therapist.
The distance is damn near suffocating. She's so close physically, yet so far away mentally. Always staring at the walls with a distant look in her eyes.
The apartment is eerily quiet when they step inside. The kind that Charles despises after living in a chaotic house with two brothers and three busy schedules his Maman had to keep track of.
He drops the bags and peers around the entry way. Then searches the corridors until he finds one of the bathroom doors closed.
Charles knocks on the door but receives no response. "Cheri? Are you not feeling well?"
Charles almost dives out of the way when Max comes barreling down the hallway. The Dutch tries the doorknob, heavy breathing filling the odd silence.
Charles pales at the sight revealed to him. Paralyzed that this horrific scene could even be a possibility. Is he dreaming? He has to be - there isn't any way for this to be real... right?
"Charles!-" the Monegasque is dragged from his thoughts. Real or not, Max needs his help. Scratch that - she needs his help. "- Get an ambulance!"
Charles fishes his phone out of his pocket and makes the call. Max is desperate trying to stop the bleeding from the vertical slit traveling her forearm. "Is she...?" He can't finish the thought. Heart being through his chest at the possible answer.
"Pules is there but faint." Max sounds like he's desperately trying to hold back his tears. His mind working desperately to keep her alive.
Charles must space out. He doesn't remember opening the door or watching her be carried out by the swift paramedics. The car ride doesn't register, not until they are already in the waiting room.
Max hands him her notes. The paragraphs she wrote to them. A final goodbye in messy scrawl, but the tails of her letters still curled.
"She did it for us, Charlie, because she thought she was hurting us."
They both break down in the uncomfortable waiting room chairs. Charles violently sobbing. Neither of them respond to their messages. Phones buzzing with calls that go to voice-mail.
A doctor comes calling her name. Charles is only half listening. Specifically looking for either a confirmation of death or the relief of hearing that she's okay. Max seems to be paying attention. His shoulders sag, and there is a soft look on his face when they are left to their own devices.
"She's alive, Charlie."
He erupts until tears once more.
~~~~~
Everything hurts. Her thoughts are fuzzy. There is something soft beneath her.
The white ceiling is paired with the burning smell of alcohol. A sterile environment. Meaning-
Fuck. How did it go so wrong? How had they managed to keep her alive?
The beeping on the heart monitor picks up. A sign that she's definitely alive and in a hospital.
Her attempts at moving are futile. There is too much pain and exhaustion to do so. A pulsing behind her ears drowns out the thumping of her heart.
"Rest now, amour."
It takes a single stroke of Charles' fingers on her cheek to make her entire facade shatter into nothing.
She's mumbling incoherent words. It's a string of apologies, rants of anger and embarrassment, and confusion at why they are even here with her. They are continually reassuring her. They coo into her ear how they are so glad she's alive. That she doesn't have to fight whatever battle through hell this is alone.
Recovery is difficult. They have to put her on a suicide watch, but Max and Charles somehow manage to keep her out of the psychward. Mostly because they want to be with her at all hours of the day.
They miss a singular race for her. Then drag her to the next. Part of the deal they had made was that they won't sacrifice their careers for her.
They negotiated with the teams. Managed to wriggle around their soft spots and get them to approve going public. Max and Charles want to openly defend her. No more public executions. They'er pulling her out of the shark infested waters that is the media.
It's slow. People ask about it sometimes; why Charles and Max had missed that race. None of them give an answer. They aren't obligated to.
"Why fight for me?" She asks. a year after the events.
"Because chéri, we love you enough to help you carry the burden."
"Honestly liefste, we fight for what we believe in. We believe in you and the love you have for us."
"Maybe it's selfish, but we want to share that with you. Keep you here with us to go on adventures and explore the different paths life offers."
"So don't leave us yet. You are worth every sacrifice."
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reysdriver · 1 year
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Beautiful Boy | J.P.
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James struggles to keep his cool when you go into labour — james x fem!reader fluff
warnings: reader giving birth (but not graphic or anything)
words: 1k
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You laid on the bed in St. Mungos, James at your side. The potion a medi-witch gave you a few minutes ago was starting to kick in, and the pain was subsiding. You were warned that it wasn't going to help for the whole time, but you were only concerned about stopping the pain at that very moment. 
The same medi-witch checked your dilation, and her report disappointed you. "You're almost ready to have this baby. You've still got a few centimetres to go, maybe two or three. It's just a waiting game right now." 
You didn't want to wait. You wanted that baby out right away. 
"Why does she have to wait? Can't we speed this up somehow?" James asked. 
She shook her head. "The baby will come when her cervix is about ten centimetres dilated. Right now, she's only about seven or eight." She showed the measurements with her fingers, and James' face flushed. 
The witch then left, promising to come back and check up on you in a few minutes. 
"Love, I know I've told you nonstop how proud I am of you, but I really want to tell you again." James said to you. "I can't even imagine—" 
You didn't mean to cut him off, but another wave of pain crashed over you and it was impossible for a groan to have not escaped your lips. You squeezed his hand so hard you were sure you were passing the pain onto him. 
"Is that a contraction?"
"Yes, James." You said tearily. "When I make that noise and squeeze your hand every few minutes, it's because of contractions." 
He held your hand and breathed with you every time you had a contraction after that. 
You had healers coming in and out of your room every ten minutes or so, and after about an hour, finally one of them told you that you were ready to push.
Even though you had told your husband he didn't have to be in the room with you once you started active labour, he insisted on being right by your side. He should have listened to you, since it was obvious he was spiralling. He was asking a million questions, his eyes were wide and frightened, and it looked like he was going to pass out. 
You wanted to gently get him out of the room before he needed more medical attention than you. "Jamie, honey. Why don't you go get some ice to chew on? You love that. Or you could go update everyone on how we're doing?" 
He knew he was freaking out. Everyone in the room knew. He just really didn't want to leave you alone. "No, I'm fine. I'm great, love." 
One of the healers tried getting James out too. "Sir, you really don't want to be here for the worst part. Your wife will be very well taken care of under our care, you don't need to worry."
James looked to you with a guilty expression. He was torn between staying and leaving, so you assured him you were alright. 
He kissed you, quickly said how much he loves you, then reluctantly left the room. 
✦✧✦✧✦
You called James back in after it was all over. Your baby boy was in a bassinet next to the bed, and James' eyes started welling with tears the moment he saw you two. 
"Hi, Jamie." You said as he walked closer. 
He sat at the side of your bed and leaned down to kiss you gently but passionately. "I love you. I'm so proud of you." He told you in between light kisses scattered across your face. 
You smiled at both his praise and his touch. You could have sworn it was really helping to heal the pain. "Do you want to meet your son or are you just going to keep kissing me?"
His kisses stopped, but his hands remained holding your face as he let out a little laugh. "I wish I could do both." He looked back at the bassinet and let out a sigh. You nodded as a sign of encouragement, and he stood up and went over to your baby. 
He was half-asleep, so James was incredibly careful in picking him up. He held an arm under his little dark curls, and James noted all of his other features. Your eyes were passed down, but all of his other traits so far were from James. 
"Hello, my beautiful boy. I'm so excited you're here." 
You were surprised at James' soft tone. Usually, he was hyper and loud, and you had spent the majority of your pregnancy telling him off whenever he was talking to your baby bump and made a dirty joke. Now, he was speaking at a volume just above a whisper and it was adorable watching them. 
"Your mum and I have been waiting such a long time, but she's been through a lot more to get you here than I have. She's so strong, you're gonna love her just as much as she loves you already." 
Your husband looked over to you for a second, then looked back at the baby in his arms. 
"She's looking at you with the most adorable smile right now. She's probably watching 'cause she knows you're sleepy. Well, before you go to sleep, I just want to tell you that I love you, and I'm always going to be here for you, and I'll never let anything bad happen to you." 
James kissed him softly on the forehead as he lowered him into the bassinet again. He walked back to your bed and you let him lay down in the thin space beside you. He went back to peppering kisses on you, and you melted into his touch. 
"We should let him sleep for a little bit, then people can come in and meet him." You told your husband. 
He smiled. "The boys are outside flipping coins to decide who gets to see him first."
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catcze · 7 months
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hay it's me the strip poker kazuha anon but i am now a weak mess for neuvillette. you did an awesome job when you wrote about whether wrio would initiate things etc in a relationship - what are your thoughts for mr neuvillette? 👀👀👀
?!?!?!?!?!??! YO ?!??!! STRIP POKER KAZUHA ANON HELLO OH MY GOD ?! you're still here ?!?!? AAAAA HI HI HI I MISSED YOU ?!?! THANK YOU FOR STILL BEING AROUND ?!?!?!
Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!
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Frankly speaking, I don't think Neuvillette would be one to initiate a relationship with you, but he will lay it on pretty heavily that he's into you, and will wait for you to figure things out on your own.
Noovy is an absolute sweetheart, and if he's into you, he only becomes more of a sweetheart. He begins bringing you small gifts that he thinks you'll like: a simple necklace he thought suits you. A flower that he saw on the way to the Palais Mermonia. Even small snacks from food vendors that he passes by that he thinks suit your tastes— he never misses an opportunity to get you some gifts.
He begins to dote on you more and more as time goes by. He's careful in his concerns, making sure that it's clear that they come from a place of sincerity rather than with ulterior motives.
"Have you eaten yet?" Neuvillette asks, receiving the papers from your outstretched hand. He's careful to keep his tone neutral, but the furrow in his brows betrays some of his concern. "Oh, no I haven't yet," you tell him, shifting on your feet. "There were some documents that came right during my lunch break, and I wasn't feeling hungry yet so I volunteered to go through them so that Sedene and the others could have their break." Neuvillette blinks at you, staring for just a second, then he's placing his pen down and rising to his feet. You scramble to attention as he rounds the desk, a smile on his face. "Well, we can't have you working on an empty stomach, can we? Come, I'll treat you somewhere. If that's alright with you, of course."
At some point, practically everyone knows that the Iudex of Fontaine is doing his best to court you.
The melusines are some of the first to know, easily picking up on the subtle flush on Neuvillette's face whenever you talk to him or when your fingers so much as brush. They giggle whenever they see you two together, but are still careful to make sure you don't see them. Monsieur Neuvillette wouldn't want them to ruin the surprise now, would he? The citizens of Fontaine are aware of how you've got Neuvillette wrapped around your finger. After all, he's seen most often with you whenever he wanders the city, and it's hard to miss the fond glances he shoots your way, or how he always vehemently insists on covering the bill whenever you both eat out. Once even going so far as to pluck the mora right out of your hand so you couldn't pay! Even Wriothesley, of all people, who lives in a fortress at the bottom of the ocean hears the news that Neuvillette has been courting someone. He comes up to the Palais Mermonia the very same weekend that he hears the news, all just to see Neuvillette practically melt the second you step into the room. Wriothesley grins the entire time like he's watching a particularly entertaining performance, and Neuvillette has never wanted to kick him out of his office more.
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555 notes · View notes
ikoinsblog · 28 days
Text
Warnings: MDNI! professor!reader, student!Ellie, age gap, Top!Ellie, strap on (r!receiving), oral (r!receiving).
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Forbidden Part 2!
Part 1!
“That cake is hilarious!” Dina, one of your long-time friends, sat back in her seat laughing. “Fucking brilliant!”
It was. You had initially wondered if it was too much for a public place, but divorce parties were supposedly all the rage these days. You were definitely telling everyone what you thought of your ex-wife.
Abby was the biggest prick to walk the earth.
“You don’t think the knife is too much?”
“If you’re going to say how you feel through a cake, then you have to say it properly, babe. I think it’s great.”
“I don’t suppose it’ll matter soon once people have helped themselves to it.” You finished your glass of wine, then refilled it.
“So, I had something I wanted to talk to you about. But it has to stay between us, Dina.”
You didn’t have anything to worry about. You could trust Dina with anything you said. Including this ‘thing’ with Ellie.
Still, Dina held up a hand. “Of course. Scout’s honour or whatever.”
“There’s…this student.” Your clit throbbed at the mere thought of Ellie. “She’s…intense.”
“Giving you grief?” Dina frowned. “Your uni students are usually mature by now.”
“No, no. Not grief in that sense. She’s…I think she’s attracted to me.”
“Well, obviously. Who isn’t?”
You rolled your eyes, slapping Dina on the arm. “Stop it. That’s not true.”
“Oh, I think it is.”
“My own wife couldn’t wait to fuck someone else, Dina. I find it hard to believe that I’m going to find anything meaningful any time soon.” You knew that with age…life changed. You knew that no matter how sexy you felt, things started to drop or dry or whatever else you would be faced with in the coming years. You weren’t stupid. But your thirty-year-old cousin? Really? After everything you’ve been through with Abby. twenty-four-year marriage. You sometimes found it hard to comprehend. “Not that she would be into that sort of thing anyway.”
Dina nodded slowly. “She wants to fuck you. I get it.”
Well, that was one way of getting straight to the point. “I guess so, yes.”
“And you want to fuck her.”
“God, no. I…couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right. I have a very good reputation at work. I’m not going to potentially sour that because a student wants a night of fantasy.”
“And that’s exactly all it would be. A fantasy. So why not humour her and get your kicks while it’s on offer?”
Fuck. Dina was supposed to tell you how wrong and forbidden it was. She was supposed to threaten you with the loss of your job or a reprimand from the powers that be. Not…encourage you. “That’s…I…why have you just said that?”
“Because it’s secretly what you wanted to hear.” Dina grinned. “You may not realise it, but I know when you’re thinking about doing something. I’ve been your best friend for twenty years, babe.”
“Dina..”
“Is it illegal?” Dina asked, a brow quirked.
“I…no.” You frowned. “It’s still not right.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake! Live a little. You’ve got a student fantasising about you. What more do you want?”
“For it to not be a student?”
“Ah. But that’s all part of the fantasy.” Dina winked. “You’re thinking about it. I’m not sure what else there is to say. If you were so concerned, you wouldn’t even be having this conversation with me.”
“It doesn’t help that she’s exactly my type.”
“Mmhmm. Let me guess. A little on the butch side. Tattooed. Has that something about them. One look, and you’d spread your legs. I get it.”
“Am I that predictable?”
“Nope. Not at all. As I say, I’ve known you a long time.”
“I’m going to the bar. You’re deluded.” You rose from your seat and took your phone from the table, slipping out of the booth and heading for the bar.
You phone buzzed.
“What are you wearing?”
Oh, God. No, not now. This couldn’t be happening.
“I’m busy. I can’t do this right now!”
“I know what you’re wearing. That sexy, strappy dress should be on my bedroom floor.”
You didn’t dare to turn around. Because you knew that when you did, Ellie would be there, those eyes piercing you.
“And would one of your shirts be lying on the floor beside it?”
You grinned, seeing the read receipt immediately.
“No. It would be hanging open on my body. That’s what you’d like, isn’t it? Me fucking you…half naked.”
“I’m not sure you could handle me, Ellie.”
“Wanna find out?”
You would love nothing more than to find out.
“The question is, do YOU want to find out? That confidence of yours is very sexy, but I don’t believe you really want to fuck me, Ellie. It’s all bravado.”
Now that was sure to really rile Ellie up.
“Oh, yeah? I know how wet I make you when I’m in class. I see it in your eyes. Do you go back to your office and touch yourself while you’re thinking of me? Do you taste yourself while imagining me?”
Before you could respond, Ellie started typing again.
“Do you think of me putting my strap in you while you’re bent over your desk? A personal favourite of mine is being on my knees under your desk. I’d love to have my face in your drenched pussy. And I know you’d love it too!”
The server snapped you out of your aroused thoughts. You took the bottles of wine, smiling when he added them to the open tab they had, and carefully made your way back to the table.
“Thanks, babe. What were you smirking at when you were at the bar?”
“Me? Nothing.”
“Something on your phone,” Dina said. “Your student, maybe?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Why would my student have my number?”
“Because the woman sitting in the window over there hasn’t taken her eyes off you since you left the table. Every time she lowers her phone, you pick yours up.”
“And in what way does that prove she’s my student?”
“She couldn’t be your type any more than she already is. Look at her. You’ll see.” You couldn’t look up at Ellie. Then Dina laughed. “Ah. You can’t. Because she’s just had some very…choice words for you, hasn’t she?”
“Dina.”
“I give it thirty minutes, and you’ll be out of that door with her.” Dina leaned in and sighed. “May I say…you’ve chosen really well. She’s hot.”
* * *
“Ellie.”
Ellie lifted a brow and sipped her beer slowly. You looked divine tonight.
“What are you doing here?” You couldn’t help but lower your eyes to the open buttons on Ellies white shirt…to her chest piece tattoo.
“Drinking my beer. How is the celebration going?”
You lowered yourself to the leather seating, placing your wine on the table.
“Great. But how did you know I’d be here?”
“Fate.” Ellie winked. She received the smallest smile in return. “Joking. I’m here for you. And I may have overheard you on the phone when you were leaving your office earlier.”
“For me?” You took a large gulp from your wine glass. “Ellie, I’m your professor.”
“Mmhmm.” Was that supposed to concern Ellie? It probably should have, but it didn’t. Ellie could fuck who she wanted…when she wanted. She draped her arm across the back of the booth, her hand reaching your shoulder. “I…noticed none of the friends you’re with work at the university.”
“No. These are my close friends, not my work colleagues.”
“So, if you were to leave with me now, nobody at the university would know anything about it?” Ellie lowered her other hand beneath the table, stroking a fingertip across your knee. The university was a big place, so Ellie wasn’t overly concerned by the thought of being caught in this position. “I know you intentionally tease me during lectures.”
“Can you blame me?”
Ellie smirked. “I could never blame you for that.”
“It’s that confidence that makes me…”
You hesitated, your eyes closing when Ellie stroked her fingertips a little higher.
“Wet?” Ellie finished for you.
“Yes.”
Ellie leaned in closer and lowered her voice as she breathed against your ear, “Then why don’t you let me take care of you?”
For every second that you took to make a decision, Ellie was going to inch higher and higher. She felt you squeeze your thighs together. She grinned when you placed your hand on Ellie thigh, rubbing your palm against the denim. “Where do you want to go?”
“Depends how you want me to fuck you.” You squeezed Ellie’s thigh at those words, but Ellie only guided you higher. Your breath caught when your hand landed on the bulge at Ellie’s crotch. “Oh, fuck!”
“We could be. I wore this especially for you tonight.”
You lifted your glass and drained it, taking Ellie’s hand and guiding her out of the booth. You didn’t even bother to say goodbye to your friends. It was in that moment that Ellie knew she had your full attention.
You dragged her towards the end of the street. Ellie pulled you into an alleyway and pressed you to the wall. “How long have you wanted me?”
“Since the moment you walked into my lecture, Ellie.”
Ellie lifted the hem of your dress and forced her hand past the waistband of your underwear. “A whole three months, huh?”
You arched against Ellie when she pressed two fingers to your swollen clit. “Y-yes!”
“The times I’ve wanted to fuck you in your office. The way you sway that arse when you stroll the corridors. These tits,” Ellie said as she bit down on the swell of your breast.
“You’ve been teasing me for too long now. It’s about time I did something about it.”
“Mm. Are you going to punish me, Ellie?”
You stroked your palm up Ellie’s stomach and between her breasts. “I can’t wait to feel you on top of me. Taking everything you need from me.”
Fuck. I need her now. “We need to find a room right now.”
“I live on the next block. Can you keep your cock to yourself until then?”
Oh, she’s feisty. I like that. “Only if you promise to get on your knees and suck it for me.”
* * *
You fumbled around with your keys, trembling when Ellie’s hand smoothed over the curve of your arse. If Ellie had realised anything so far, it was that you loved your arse being touched. Good thing, really, because Ellie fucking loved it. It was firm, perfect for spanking. Every time Ellie felt it beneath her palm, you moaned.
“Ellie please…” You wriggled, but it only shifted Ellie’s hand between your legs. “Shit, please. You have to stop that.”
“Why?”
“Because if you keep touching me, I’m going to come.” Mmhmm. She’s not wrong.
Ellie breathed a sigh of relief when the door opened, and you pulled her inside. You dropped to your knees, looking up at Ellie with hooded eyes, and smirked as you popped the button on her jeans and lowered the zip. The toy sprang free when you tugged Ellie’s boxer shorts down, her jeans sitting low on her thighs. “Oh, Ellie.” You took hold of it, rolling your tongue around the tip. “You chose the perfect size.”
“You like being filled then, huh?” Ellie couldn’t take her eyes off you as you sucked on the length of the toy. “Fuck, you’re sexy.”
You lifted a brow and quickly slid the thin straps of your dress from your shoulders. Ellie’s mind…was blown. She knew you were gorgeous, but seeing you on your knees was something entirely different.
You slurped and sucked, pressing the base of the toy against Ellie’s clit. “F-fuck, yeah.” You pressed again, digging your nails into Ellie’s skin. “Oh, shit.”
As much as Ellie loved seeing you like this, she needed to fuck you. She leaned down and cradled your chin in her finger.
“Where do you want me?”
In every possible position, if I have my way, Ellie thought. “On your feet.”
You stood, the dress that had been pooled around your waist dropped to the floor. You stood before Ellie wearing nothing but a black lace thong and a pair of heels.
Ellie’s dream…was coming true.
She held your hips, forcing her jeans the rest of the way down. She kicked off her boots, followed by her jeans, and then guided you towards the back of the couch. Your lips met, tongues sliding against one another, and Ellie’s heart really started to pound now.
“Ellie, I’m dripping for you.”
Well, now, Ellie would have to check that you weren’t telling lies. She smirked. “Turn around and bend over.”
You did so, spreading your legs for Ellie without a second thought. She lowered herself, biting on the supple flesh of your arse. And then she came face to face with that delicious pussy from behind. Fuck! Even though Ellie knew she’d have you one day, she had to quickly question her confidence. You were dripping wet, just as you had claimed.
Ellie didn’t wait another second. She buried her face in your soaked lips and lapped up every drop you had to offer. Ellie slipped her tongue inside you. You immediately tightened around her tongue, your slick arousal covering Ellie’s chin.
You reached behind yourself and gripped the back of Ellie’s head, encouraging Ellie to give you more. Ellie pulled back, only to ease two fingers inside you.
“Fuck me harder, Ellie.”
Ellie obliged, adding a third finger and thrusting fast. “Fuck, you’re tight.”
“Mmm. You’ve had me on edge for a long time, baby.”
Baby? Oh, yeah. Ellie could definitely work with that. “If only you’d told me sooner, we could have been far more acquainted by now.”
You were close. Ellie felt your walls clenching, your knees trembling, your breath becoming more and more ragged.
“C-close.”
Ellie pulled out of you suddenly. She got to her feet, spanking your divine arse hard. You yelped, moaned, and then wiggled those smooth cheeks for Ellie. A private show.
“You wanted me, Ellie.” You bent further forward, bracing your forearms on the back of the couch. “So take me.”
Ellie spread your lips from behind and coated the toy with your wetness. she lined the head up and thrust hard.
“Oh, fuck!” You dropped your head on her shoulders, slamming back against Ellie. “Y-yes.”
“Tell me you want me.”
“O-oh, I want you. My pussy is craving you, Ellie.”
The way you said Ellie’s name had her gripping your hips and pounding furiously. “Fucking take it. All of it.”
“Ellie…” you gasped and moaned. Ellie was barely able to move inside you. “Fuck, I’m coming.” You forced Ellie out of you, gushing down your thighs and covering the hardwood flooring. “O-oh, I…”
Now that was something Ellie wanted to witness again in her lifetime. if Ellie was being honest, this was one of the moments she had fantasised about.
So, for the time Ellie could have with you, she was going to make the very most of it. She leant forward, dragged her nails up your back, and whispered, “Turn around. That pussy is mine for the rest of the night.”
By Melissa Tereze.
What if… Part 2!
WLW book recommendations!
‘What if Ellie was character in my favourite lesbian books.’
Study You by Melissa Tereze.
‘It’s been months since Finn Ashton walked into Gillian Masters’s lecture and neither’s world was ever the same. Six weeks have passed since their last mind-blowing encounter, which was in Gillian’s office…on her desk, and both women know that a professor-student relationship is too risky, especially for Gillian who has worked for years to get where she is at her university job.’
@pick-me-up-im-scared
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amomentsescape · 8 months
Text
Wrong Place, Right Time
Billy Loomis x Reader
Summary: Billy wanted nothing more than to add four more teens to his killing list. However, you were the last one he expected to be there.
Warnings: Violence & death, fluff
Word Count: 1,231
A/N: It felt right to kick off my Slasher Summer writings with Billy. He's been a long time favorite of mine, and it just felt right. As a reminder, I am taking any and all requests. If you have a slasher you'd like me to write for, let me know!
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He could already feel the adrenaline coursing through his body. He was practically shaking as he slowly crept in through the back door of a ridiculously decked out house.
"Idiots," he muttered. The people who lived here didn't even bother locking the door.
As he finally made his way inside, he could hear chatter and heavy music making its way from upstairs.
Billy smiled as he listened.
Word had clearly spread that there was some psycho murderer making their way around the area. It only seemed right for people to ban together at night, hoping that the large gathering would deter a killer from attacking.
But clearly this group wasn't being too cautious. Leaving the door unlocked and having the stereo on high wasn't exactly rule number one in any "how to stay alive in a horror movie" pamphlet.
With this being said, the group was doing at least one thing right.
They were all together in the same room.
This was going to make Ghostface's job a little more difficult, but not impossible by any means.
He quickly turned back towards the door and signaled that he was ready.
Stu nodded back at him, having been waiting outside for his cue.
Billy smiled as he watched Stu disappear. And that smile only grew when the lights all cut out, sending everyone into a hush.
He slowly made his way up the stairs in the dark, being careful not to make any sound.
He was close enough now that he could make out voices whisper-shouting to each other. One person finally groaned out a "fine" as they left the rest of the group.
Billy considered this for a moment and realized that they were likely heading outside to the electrical panel.
He let out a frustrated sigh at this, knowing that he was going to have to go after them quickly. Stu promised not to get in the way this time.
This was his night.
As he heard the front door slam shut, Billy continued his way upstairs. He'd deal with them later.
It didn't take long to get through the group. There were only three others besides whoever left.
Ghostface jumped out from the darkness and quickly stabbed the throat of some teenage boy he had seen once or twice in the halls of their high school.
The other two girls quickly jumped up and screamed as they witnessed their friend being slaughtered right before their eyes.
One headed for the front door, but he was quick to grab onto her hair and throw her hard against the ground. The wind was suddenly knocked from her and she barely had time to gasp out when the metal blade punctured into the middle of her chest.
She shook out a few spasms and coughed up blood before her eyes quickly glazed over.
Ghostface stood back up and made his way down the hall, having seen the second girl sprint in that direction just moments before.
He felt pretty confident as he walked, already knowing where she was hiding.
Only one door was closed and if Stu and him had mapped it out correctly, it was a small bathroom with a window barely big enough to fit a child through.
"Too easy," he muttered to himself.
With a few swift kicks, the door swung open to an empty room- or so one would think.
As he tore open the shower curtain, the girl jumped up and tried to slash him with a pair of pointed scissors she had found.
She was too slow however, and Billy was quick to grab her arm and throw her body against the tiled wall.
He grabbed her head forcefully and slammed it over and over before finally using his knife to finish the job.
Easy work, he thought.
With that, he suddenly heard yelling coming from downstairs.
"Guys?"
This made Billy freeze up.
That voice. How did he not recognize it sooner?
He slowly crept his way to the top of the stairs, carefully peaking over as to not be seen. And that's when he realized it was you.
For the first time that night, Billy was scared.
You were the only one that got to see a genuine smile from the boy, the only one who Billy thought was worth living.
You both had a couple of classes together, but neither of you said much to one another. Billy had to keep up his persona with Sidney, and he didn't trust himself to do that around you.
You were much too pretty and smart to talk to anyways.
Billy had overheard conversations you'd have with some of your friends during lunch or in between classes.
You loved the same horror movies as him and always glowed when talking about your favorite characters.
He couldn't help but smile almost every day while watching you, taking in every little quirk and laugh you'd let out.
Billy had no choice but to become smitten with you.
And this is why his dilemma left him at a standstill.
He didn't want to kill you. No, he couldn't kill you. You were just too precious in his world full of anger and pain.
But what was his other option? He just killed your friends.
In his defense, he'd seen you talk to these people once or twice at school. He didn't realize you actually liked them. He may be a murderer, but he's not heartless. He didn't want to kill anyone that you cared about. But it was a little late for apologies.
"Fuck," he whispered to himself.
As you stood at the bottom level, looking around for your friends, you began to hear footsteps descending the stairs.
You quickly spun to the side and saw him.
Ghostface.
Your jaw dropped as if preparing for a scream, but no sound made its way out.
What was the point anyways? Your friends were likely all dead, and that meant there was no one else to hear your screams for help.
But if he was going to kill you, he sure was taking his sweet time.
He was walking so slowly towards you. If it weren't for the current circumstance, you would have almost thought he was trying not to scare you.
As he got closer, you began to back away from him.
You kept going until your body hit the cold wall behind you.
This was it.
He finally found himself about a foot away from you, staring through you with whatever eyes were behind that mask.
Your breath hitched and your eyes began to water. Fear overcame you as you realized that you were going to die.
As the tears began to drip down your face, Ghostface closed the gap.
He raised his hand up towards you, and you flinched away knowing that he was going to grab you by the throat and crush the wind from your lungs.
However, this wasn't what happened.
You felt the leather glove softly graze against your cheek. You carefully tipped your head back in his direction, your brows furrowing.
"W-what are you-"
His hand suddenly caressed your face, his thumb running over the wet spots your tears left behind.
You watched his shoulders sag a bit, as if he finally let go of a breath he had been holding.
And without a moment to process what was happening, he disappeared into the darkness.
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remember-the-fanfics · 3 months
Note
Heya! Saw you were in need of some hazbin requests- would you be okay writing something angsty? I liked your earthborn idea, so you can use that concept for the reader <3 maybe teen!reader is having a rly tough time mentally at the hotel? Panic attacks, loss of appetite, the whole lot of it. You can take this anywhere it goes, I won’t mind. And if you can’t/don’t want to write it no worries! (Also, on a serious note I am getting help currently. Please don’t worry about my mental well-being ❤️)
So abrupt ending, ran out of idea and then got a headache, hope you're doing well. <3
Cut because readers thoughts get real panicked
You weren't a sinner, you haven't even died yet.
Why were you here?
Was everyone right? Did you truly deserve this?
They can't be-, you are still mortal. Then why were you even in Hell?
Why Why why-
You couldn't tell anyone, not that you don't trust them! All of the people (are they even still people if they are dead? Demons?), are nice and you just don't want to worry them with the truth.
-
"Have any of you seen (Y/n)? They are always willing to help me with taste testing my food?" Niffty asked after finishing cooking for the hotel.
"Haven't actual seen them today. I think they are sleeping though the day. I would." Said Husk, cleaning a glass.
"They've been skittish the past few days when they aren't in their room." Alastor stated, "More jumpy that usual."
"(Y/n) haven't been like this since they first got here." Said Charlie with a remorseful look. "I hope I didn't push them to hard on redemption, I know they can be sensitive about certain things."
"Like how all of this could be for nothing?" Said Alastor with a chuckle. "They might realize that and miss their old life. Realizing that they can't actually get better than hell."
"I'm checking on them." Said Vaggie, getting up and heading towards (Y/n)'s room.
"Just don't be too pushy! And make sure they've eaten! And water!" Said Charlie after Vaggie.
-
Vaggie remembers the look on your face when you realized you were in Hell being the one who found you wondering aimlessly. Your transition to a sinner wasn't a pretty one, after accepting Charlie's offer at the hotel the two didn't see you for almost two weeks. Vaggie thought you left until Charlie convinced you to come out of your room.
You look lost when you opened the door. The two only realized that you were young, not a child but not completely an adult. Charlie didn't force you to talk about what you were thinking, just got you to eat something and drink water then take a shower with some borrowed clothes.
Vaggie had moved you to a closer room to the two of them. You didn't have anything to move out so you just followed the two. They kept an eye on you since, making sure you realized that this wasn't the end.
Vaggie grumbled on her breath, standing infront of your door. Knocking with no answer.
"Kid, I know you're in there. Just want to make sure you're okay."
"..."
"(Y/n) did one of these assholes do something? I'll kick their ass if they did." Vaggie continued. "... You haven't closed yourself off like this since you first got here."
Hearing a sniffle after bring that up, clued Vaggie in what might be wrong.
"Look, I'm not like Charlie and will break the door down instead of talking to you for 2 weeks waiting for you to open it."
" 'm fine Vaggie."
"When was the last time you ate?"
"..."
"Or drank any water? Or even took a shower?"
"Give me a second."
-
(Y/n) would have jump out of the window if it wasn't that far. They looked for any escape route from Vaggie and the conversation they would have. (Y/n) could hide in the closet but they spent their childhood in there, they dont want to go back.
With a quick push the trash under their bed and make themselves presentable, they open the door and Vaggie look unimpressed.
"Come on, Niffty made food. You're eating." Said Vaggie not giving (Y/n) a chance to say no by grabbing their hand and pulling them along.
"Okay..."
"Charlie gonna want to know what upset you." Said Vaggie, (Y/n) groaned in response.
"Can't we just say I'm fine? I don't want to talk about it."
"You're not fine. You've not closed yourself off in awhile."
"I needed some me time?"
"That shouldn't include ignoring your health."
-
Well it was the most awkward dinner, everyone was trying not to stare at (Y/n)'s disheveled shape while eating. (Y/n) ate almost half the plate before pushing it away.
"I'm full." They said.
"You haven't eaten in a week, you need to finish." Said Husk.
"That's all I can eat right now. If I try I'll probably vomit it back up which will put me back in square one." Said (Y/n), trying not to get annoyed with the others for caring.
"You still need to hydrate." Vaggie said putting down a glass of water infront of them, (Y/n) grimace at the glass as water didn't taste good to them.
"Fine just can you all go back to eatting your own food?" (Y/n) said, sipping on the water while everyone grumbled and went back to their own plates of food. Everyone became silent while eating when it just became to loud in (Y/n)'s head again.
-
You were fine, everything was fine. This water was... water. The food was fine.
Everything was just fine. Everyone was fine.
Why then didn't it feel fine?
Why couldn't you feel fine?
Because you were in hell-
Like all the people your family said would be there-
People like
You.
But you shouldn't be here. You never died, you don't even look like the people down here.
Down down down, why does you life always go that direction?
You really should breath.
-
The first one to notice was the only one who didn't take her eyes off of (Y/n), Charlie, seeing that (Y/n) just stops everything. Charlie went to them quickly, not touching them yet. Crouching down next to their chair, having everyone watching now. Vaggie gotten out of her own chair ready to help at any moment.
"(Y/n)? Are you-?"
(Y/n) took a quick inhale, barely putting down their glass in time for their body to exhale. Charlie realized that they were breathing too fast while (Y/n) realized they were panicking infront of people.
"(Y/n)?" Asked Charlie, startling (Y/n) out of their thoughts and almost out of their chair. They looked like a frighten animal at Charlie.
"...Fine, 'm fine, t'is fine, promise." (Y/n) said, trying to not worry Charlie.
"Just focus on your breath." Said Charlie. "Just close your eyes and focus, in for 5, hold for 5, and exhale for 5."
(Y/n) squeezed their eyes shut, trying to focus their ragged breathing to calm down.
Just focus
After a few minutes, (Y/n) keep their eyes closed not wanting to face everyone.
"Better?" Asked Vaggie.
"Hmm." (Y/n) mumbled in response.
"Want to take a shower, while I get Niffty to fix up your room?"
"Hm- yeah."
-
While (Y/n) being in the shower, Charlie and Vaggie went with Niffty to (Y/n)'s room. Which just was littered with all things; trash, clothes, and random things.
"I never seen their room this messy before, hope there aren't any bugs. If there are any, they wouldn't be for long." Said Niffty getting to work quickly.
Charlie helped by ridding the bed of covers, pillows, and sheets. Vaggie taking anything that seemed dirty to be washed and getting new bedding for the bed, while looking for clean clothes for (Y/n) to wear.
"What do you think bothering them so much?" Asked Charlie.
"Probably thinking that they'll be suck here forever." Said Niffty.
"...That's probably true but they believe in redemption that I'm working on, are they second guess it?"
"(Y/n) has a habit of pushing their problems away until they can't." Said Husk, standing at the door way with a drink. "I'll take the clothes to them if you want." He said to Vaggie before she handed him the clothes.
"But they know we are here for them. Why can't they trust us with helping them though this?"
"They are probably use to going though it by themselves, they don't usually talk about who they were before hell." Said Vaggie, putting a hand on Charlie's shoulder. "We'll be here to help them up again when they need it."
"I know, I just want the help them before it gets to this." Said Charlie before (Y/n) appeared in the doorway of their room.
"Oh wow, you all did a good job. It looks way better." Said (Y/n) nervously after hearing what Charlie said. "I apologize for what happened. Not use to people wanting to help me before it becomes their problem when it gets to big."
"Well we'll be here if you ever want to talk about it." Said Charlie.
"Thanks. I'll try if it happens again."
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outsideratheart · 9 months
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Be Proud (Ana Maria-Crnogorcevic x reader)
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A/N: Based off this request.
You had missed your girlfriend dearly. So much so that you were tempted to break the curfew so you could go to her hotel and see her before you became opponents. 
In the end you decide against it. 
The first time you see Ana is when you walk onto the pitch for the inspection. She is talking to Jenni in the centre whilst you stand on the sidelines with Alexia. 
“You can go see her you know?” Your club captain nudges you. 
What Alexia didn’t know is that you had been warned by Jorge not to see her before the game. He said he needed his star forward focused and even went as far to call Ana a distraction. Something that didn’t settle well with you. 
“I’ll wait till after the game. I can’t deal with him before the game” you shrug your shoulders but Alexia knew that you played your best football when you saw Ana, whether that is when she’s by your side or a quick hi before kick off. 
“I’m going over and you’re coming with me” she puts her arm round your shoulder and all but pushes you towards your girlfriend. 
You don’t make your presence known immediately as Jenni is in the middle of speaking. Ana, on the other hand, had no problem in turning all her attention to you regardless if Jenni is talking or not. 
It was sickening to those around them. It didn’t matter whether there was twenty people around, when you and Ana was in close proximity everyone and everything around you became irrelevant. 
“Hi” your tone is low. 
“Hi” Ana replies; the corner of her mouth rising to form a smirk. 
It had been mere weeks since you last saw her but you could have sworn she’s changed somehow. 
“Anyways don’t take it personally when we beat you” Jenni unintentionally ruins the moment between you. Her words bring back the reality of the reason why Ana is standing in front of you in the first place. 
“Ana what—“
“Don’t. This is part of the sport. Sometimes we are team mates and sometimes we are opponents” 
“Win or lose. You’re mine” you say. It was both a question and a statement. 
Ana doesn’t have the chance to respond as she is called over by her coach. 
It was game time. 
You had put on a flawless performance but this came at a cost, not for you but for Ana because Spain’s win sent Switzerland home. For the first time in your career you wasn’t entirely happy about winning.
Ana was your first thought when the whistle was blown but Jorge pulled you over to him and the coaching staff.
“Great game Y/N. See what happens when you’re not distracted” Jorge says smugly. That man’s arrogance and annoyance knew no bounds.
“Me and the girls played well now if you’ll excuse I am going to show respect to our opponents and that includes my girlfriend” 
The blonde woman saw you walking over and met you half way. She had a look of disappointment on her face which is to be expected but she also wore a smile on her face. Even in the defeat she had the energy to be proud of you.
“You could have taken it easy on us” she says as she pulls you into her arms. With the height difference she can just about rest her chin on the top of your head.
“I did” you say rather smugly. Ana pulls away and gives you a look, one which makes you regret your comment “Sorry”
“Don’t be. I’m proud of you Y/N”
“Ana, you should be proud of how you played. Not just today but of every game you have played so far”
“You’re biased” Ana wanted to believe you but with the results they had it was hard.
“I am but that doesn’t mean what I’m saying isn’t true” 
The two of you were so caught up in each other that you didn’t realise both of your teams had begun doing their lap of the field thanking those who came to support them. Not wanting to be rude you joined them but stay together instead of going to your team mates. Ana’s arm rested comfortably on your shoulder as you walk. It was her way of keeping you close and in the bubble that was sure to be popped once you reached the tunnel.
“Can we swap shirts?” You ask timidly. 
“I would love to but I have promised it to someone else” 
“Who? Was it Jenni? Aitana? Alexia? Tell me who it is and I’ll fight them for it. I’m the only one that’s allowed to wear Crnogorcevic on the back of my shirt”
Ana cannot help but laugh at your protectiveness and she knows that you will soon soften when she tells you who is getting her shirt.
“You’re cute but you won’t be fighting anyone” she says confidently.
“Watch me” you weren’t backing down. You wanted Ana’s shirt. Who could be more important than her girlfriend.
Ana removed her arm and chose to hold your hand instead whilst pulling you towards the family and friends section, the Spanish family and friends section. She hopped the barrier, you followed in suit and together you walked to where Irene was talking to Lucia and their son. Mateo reached out his arms and chose to be held by you instead of Irene. Something which you loved.
Your girlfriend watched the way you held him and the way you talked to him as if he was your best friend. She loved seeing you with Mateo because it gave her a glimpse of what the future could look like.
You were so caught up with the little boy in your arms that you didn’t notice Ana taking her shirt off, almost. 
“Irene. I won’t let you wear my girlfriend’s shirt. Nope, sorry, not going to happen” 
The look the defender gave confused you. 
“Wrong Parades Y/N” 
Ana then proceeds to handing Mateo her shirt.
“How can I fight him? He’s so cute and small and look at those cheeks” you knew in that moment that there’s nothing you could do. 
“Told you so” Ana knew that you would have no problem letting the little boy have her shirt.
Irene takes her son from you and puts him down. It gives you the opportunity to place the shirt over his head and helping him get his arms through. You have no problem admitting he looked cute in Ana’s shirt.
The three of you, plus Mateo walk back across the pitch and towards the changing rooms. 
“Next time, I get your shirt” 
“Next time, I promise”
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rougecreator1 · 24 days
Note
I’ve been waiting for someone to write for both Carmilla and Velvette x reader! I like the idea of reader being the mediator between their girlfriends, given how vastly opposite Carmilla and Velvette are. They’re just a very relaxed and calm person, until something pushes them over the edge and suddenly they’re hella deadly. I like to image how they’d react to that.
Devil in a Calm Sea
|| Carmilla Carmine x Velvette x fem!reader
(i myself am poly)
|| Warnings: Valentino flirting with reader, swearing because it's Hazbin Hotel, fight between Valentino and reader (sort of?) more like reader is just defending herself (with a chair)
|| Summary: reader is in an Overlord meeting, keeping Velvette and Carmilla in check. Valentino keeps flirting with reader and reader loses it.
Requests open! (won't be done quickly, im only writing when i have motivation and that doesn't seem to be happening a lot rn so it might take a while. just be mindful and patient with that)
~~~
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Your girlfriends were on different ends of extreme. Especially when it came to each other. You? You were the calm one. Tended to not react or cause a whole lot of drama. You were their voice of reason. A saving grace that kept the whole relationship together. Carmilla often showed her appreciation for you, taking you on special romantic dates. Velvette would be more subtle with her appreciation. She didn't want you going and getting the wrong idea that she has a soft spot for you or something. That would be ridiculous. She absolutely does have a soft spot for you and you damn well know it, shh. Dont let her find out.
You leaned against the wall of the meeting room where Carmilla was holding a meeting with the other Overlords. Much to your disliking, Vox and Valentino were there. You yourself weren't an Overlord but you were there to support your girlfriends. Your task was to make sure they didn't get into a fight. Easier said than done. Especially with Valentino getting on your nerves the whole meeting.
He kept sending you all these flirtatious looks, winking at you, licking his lips with that stupidly long tongue of his whenever Velvette and Carmilla weren't watching. It was clear he wanted you under contract with him and it was beginning to really piss you off. He was always like this. It was disgusting. No, disgusting wasn't right. It was too light of a description for the way he acts.
You try to ignore his antics, focusing on either Velvette or Carmilla. Watching your girlfriends instead of him. Anyone but him. As the meeting ends, you're about to walk over to your girls when Valentino blocks your path. He was much taller than you, so it wasn't difficult.
"My, you're just gorgeous aren't you~" He leans down to get a good look at you, you take a step back. Carmilla notices what's happening first but before she can react...
You pull your arm back and slap Valentino hard. The room goes silent as everyone stares in your direction. What just happened?
Valentino blinks a couple of times, he was shocked. Did you really just dare to do that to him? You? A pathetic sinner? Please.
He grabs your wrist but (before your girlfriends could intervene, they really wanted to) you grabbed one of the chairs with your free hand and slammed it into his body as hard as you possibly could. Making him stumble back.
"Don't fucking touch me!" You shout. You shouted. You never do that. Velvette and Carmilla were stunned to see how easily you were defending yourself. Carmilla was the first to recover and rushed to your side, holding a protective hand in front of you as she glares at Valentino.
"Get out. I would advise you not to come to any meetings for the foreseeable future." Carmilla says, her tone a scary level of calm.
Valentino gets off the floor and stares past Carmilla, looking at you in pure confusion and shock. Your audacity was disgusting. To him, your girlfriends were quite amused.
You wanted to keep fighting. You were going to kick his ass. You lunged forwards but Carmilla grabbed you and set you on her shoulder to keep you from doing anything. She held you there with ease despite your efforts at escape. They were pointless. Which you soon realized.
Before Valentino could get the chance to say or do anything else, Carmilla left the room with you. Velvette didn't immediately follow. But you knew why. You could hear her screaming at Valentino with Vox's voice following, trying to settle Velvette with very little success. At this point, the only one that could calm her was you. But Carmilla had her grip on you as she brought you to her office and seated you down in her chair.
She scans over your body, making sure you weren't hurt in any way before she speaks in a soft tone. Vastly different from the one she had used on Valentino just moments before.
"Are you alright? I don't believe I have ever seen you so..." She tries to find the right word. Violent? No, violent was too harsh of a description. Pissed? Pissed was too light. There was nothing that quite fit the way you had lashed out.
You folded your arms across your chest, a glare in your eyes that wasn't directed at Carmilla. She knew that though it still startled her to see it.
"He fucking deserved that. He'd been flirting with me the whole fucking meeting. Should've hit him harder." You muttered the last bit under your breath, Carmilla raised an eyebrow.
How did she not realize Valentino was flirting with you? Usually she was much more observant than that. Especially when it came to you. She was going to say something before her office door opened. Revealing Vox, who was holding Velvette in stretched out arms to keep her away from him as she thrashed around in his hold.
"Let me go you fucking mutated TV!" Velvette shouted, biting Vox's hand. You can't tell me she wouldn't.
"Shit! Okay, fuck." Vox drops her and Velvette lands on her ass, making her glare at Vox who ignores her and looks at Carmilla and you.
"She's your problem now." Is all he says before he leaves the room, closing the door behind him.
Carmilla sighs and glances at Velvette, who was grumbling complaints under her breath as she stood and walked over to the two of you. Fixing her outfit.
"Fucking bastard." Velvette grumbled, sticking the middle finger at the door before looking at you." Val's a bitch. Hit him harder next time."
"Velvette!" Carmilla scolds, you smirk and gesture to Velvette while looking at Carmilla.
"That's exactly what I'm going to do."
Carmilla narrows her eyes at you. God, the two of you were going to drive her insane one of these days.
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