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#The song; obviously I’m not talking about the voice
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So I guess it’s time for me to advertise to the entire neighborhood how insufferably neurodivergent I am by blaring a very specific playlist on a portable speaker while I ride my bike around the neighborhood, wearing very specific clothes — holding my hands, face, and posture in a very specific way — and pray to Satan (not really… I’m agnostic just like someone else, unironically) they understand what I’m trying to tell them with the music, and make the connection between the name I’m alluding to and exactly what that name means, and put two and two together that the name will happen to them if they take any pamphlets from my father seriously and decide to convert to the path of “everlasting life on a paradise earth” ahahAhAHAHAHA I AM MAD SCIENTIST! (sunuvabitch)
#I mean I have to get my exercise in anyway; might as well make the most of it before I move out right?#Yes I am going to great lengths to make a pun out of the name of someone I respect with my whole being. [sobs] It’S fOr a goOd cAusE#I’ve had this idea forever but I’ve just put the playlist together today after a few months of having this little speaker I got from Ollie’#I already knew what songs I wanted; I compiled them today#Will this even work? Am I wasting my time? Will the references even be obvious#My goal is not to make the reference right away; my goal is to put enough songs that people know that relate to [you can fucking guess]#so that when they hear it; they’ll maybe think about it and want to listen to it again — two of which will likely lead to a music video#if they go on YouTube for music (fingers crossed) — and they’ll get smacked in the face with exactly who I’m trying to reference#I omitted the third song which uses an audio sample of said person’s voice because I don’t know how recognizable it is#The song; obviously I’m not talking about the voice#I wonder if I should include songs from an artist with the same name and hope for people to make that cross reference#hm… that’s a thought#Otherwise I’m picking songs that are instant earworms that have lots of repeating phrases which make it easy to look up#if it gets stuck in their head and they want to look it up#and I just like all of these songs too#I’m a little witchy too so if putting your intentions out there is a thing; I’m putting my intentions out there#my vibes if you will#I prioritize secular practicality over metaphysics though#Others are songs that “sound” a certain way#Others have lyrics that fit perfectly#Some are ripped straight from the OSTs of various movies or are albums released by the people who made the OSTs 👀
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dainesanddaffodils · 9 months
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Today’s Good Omens posting is about *spins wheel*
how Crowley’s self-loathing colors the way he sees Aziraphale’s interactions with him and how we should take that negative bias into account
I’m not even gonna talk about the whole final scene/misunderstanding because we’ve all talked about that one by now. Instead I want to talk about Crowley’s description of the 3 reasons Aziraphale calls him:
(Paraphrasing) “you’re bored; you need to tell someone about something clever you did; something’s wrong”
this is a succinct breakdown and it lowkey paints Aziraphale in a bad light; Aziraphale only calls Crowley when it’s beneficial to him; this is a transactional relationship
but like, I think, to some degree, those 3 reasons are simply the only reasons Crowley can actually imagine Aziraphale being interested in talking to him. The last one is a common song and dance between them, sure, but what about the first 2?
Aziraphale calling out of the blue, rambling about how things have been slow and quiet in the neighborhood of late and wanting to take that time to catch up - Crowley can’t fathom ‘Aziraphale missed my voice and wanted to make sure I was doing okay’ and turns it into ‘Aziraphale is just bored obviously’
Aziraphale calling, absolutely giddy, talking a mile a minute about something clever he’s done can’t possibly be ‘I’m the first person he wants to share his victories with, the person whose opinion matters the most to him now and always’ so instead it’s ‘Aziraphale just needed someone to tell this to before he popped’
(There’s an interesting thing implied here as well, which is that it’s Aziraphale calling Crowley regularly and yet we talk about how Aziraphale isn’t taking initiative in the relationship but I digress)
Point is, I think Crowley knows that Aziraphale likes him, it’s part of what makes everything so heartbreaking - the way he ends up being rejected in spite of that - but just like I think he misunderstands Aziraphale’s heaven proposal because he can’t see that Aziraphale thinks he is better than heaven already, he misunderstands any reason Aziraphale would possibly reach out to him as some level of wanting something rather than… just wanting to talk to him. He doesn’t recognize that he is Enough for Aziraphale, no strings or acts of service attached.
We just need one amazing kiss conversation to set this straight
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jinjeriffic · 3 months
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DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 2
Part 1
Damian glared at the envelope. He and Father were in the process of analysing the letter for any signs of toxins, explosives or other traps. Obviously he wasn’t fool enough to open a missive from a questionable source without taking precautions. So far, all their scans had come up empty. Literally. The letter was defying all their attempts at chemical or spectroscopic testing, x-ray and magnetic resonance scans were inconclusive, it defied all properties of ordinary matter. It was frustrating. It was vexing. He was blaming magic.
For all intents and purposes, the letter looked like ordinary paper, with an ordinary wax seal, bearing the initials CW. The looping handwriting addressing it to Damian was precise and neat. Swiping the surface of the letter for chemical traces yielded no results. When Damian had tried to cut off a corner of the paper for analysis it had resisted all attempts, including a laser and a diamond headed cutting tool. Damian’s only satisfaction was that when Father had grunted and taken over the task from Damian, he had no more success than his son. As if Damian didn’t know how to perform the standard array of tests!
It certainly didn’t help that his siblings wouldn’t stop their incessant chattering!
“I’m just saying, ghosts wouldn’t be the weirdest thing we’ve encountered, Red. I’m not sure it would even make my personal Top 5.”
It seemed gossip among heroes travelled faster than the speed of light.
“Really, Nightwing? Ghosts? It’s far more likely to be a meta with something to hide. Or a few screws loose.” Damian could practically hear the eyeroll in Drake’s voice “And since when do ghosts act as glorified mailmen?”
“I don’t know Red, since when do aliens pretend to be Kansas farmboys? C’mon, we deal with magic users all the time!”
“And lets not forget people coming back from the dead” Red Hood interjected over the open comm line.
“Magic is just science we don’t understand yet. Any sufficiently analysed magic becomes indistinguishable from science!”
“B, a little help here?”
“Hn” Father straightened up from his position at the lab table “Oracle, any progress on clearing up the footage from Robin’s mask?”
Grayson threw up his hands with a frustrated huff while Drake smirked.
“The program is almost finished rendering. Whatever scrambler they used did a real number on the video quality. I’m surprised the audio is as clear as it is.” Oracle replied.
“Hn. And the isotope tracer on the money?”
“Sorry B, no hits on the local sensors. Wherever the guy went it’s either outside Gotham or shielded somehow.” she said, mildly frustrated.
“Maybe it’s ghost magiiiiic” Drake sing-songed. Grayson lightly cuffed the back of his head, to which the former Robin responded with a firm shove. Their interaction quickly devolved into a childish tussle.
Damian gave an annoyed huff. “Don’t you two imbeciles have anything better to do?”
“Aww, we’re just here to look out for our baby brother!” Nightwing teased.
“Yeah, we gotta make sure your ghost encounter didn’t leave any lasting psychological damage!” Red Robin added.
Before Damian could retaliate for their needling, Oracle chimed in. “Uh, guys? You’re going to want to see this. Most of the footage was corrupted beyond repair, but I was able to pull some partial stills and, well…” she threw a handful of pictures up on the screen. There was artifacting marring them, but parts of the stranger were visible in each of them. Oracle magnified one that had a pretty good view of his face.
“Holy shit” Drake whispered.
Damian frowned. “What?”
“Dami, he looks like you. Just… older.” Grayson said softly.
“What are you talking about?” Damian snapped.
“Disregard the pale colouring for a second. The nose, the chin… he looks like you if you had a growth spurt,” Drake wrinkled his nose “and went through puberty.”
The commlines erupted into chaos. 
“Wait, wait, wait,” Spoiler exclaimed “are you telling me there’s an older version of Robin running around Gotham?!”
“Copy?” Batgirl inquired.
“Don’t tell me Talia cooked up Demon Brat 2.0!”
“Given that he looks older it’s more likely version 0.1 if anything,” Drake snarked, “though there’s the possibility of artificially accelerated growth rates…”
Damian had had enough. “Tt. You are ignoring the obvious - if this is some kind of supernatural entity it likely copied aspects of my appearance in an attempt to engender feelings of familiarity.” he said haughtily, pushing down the uncomfortable churning in his stomach. There was no way Mother would replace him with a cheap copy. She couldn’t! “Besides, the creature has obvious powers and neither of my bloodlines has any trace of the meta gene.”
“That’s ignoring the ghostly elephant in the room.” Grayson chimed in, “Maybe it’s a dead ancestor?”
Drake gave their older brother an annoyed look “Even a time travelling descendant from the future is more likely than that. And delivering a ‘prophecy’ to boot?”
Oracle pulled up an aged up picture of Damian next to the stranger’s, highlighting several reference points. “On closer inspection, there’s a couple of discrepancies. The cheekbones for one - Robin definitely takes after his mother, while our mystery meta looks more like… well… Robin’s grandmother on the paternal side.” she finished hesitantly. “B?”
They turned to look at Batman, who had remained silent during the whole exchange. If they hadn’t known him so well they would have thought him unaffected, but the tightening around his mouth betrayed his agitation.
“There’s no use in pointless speculation until we have more data to work from,” he growled, “Oracle, look for any reports of a meta matching the target. Since our regular methods have failed to yield results, I will contact the JLD about running tests on the letter.” He turned to Drake, “Red Robin, see what you can find on recent League activities. If this is another scheme by Ra’s or Talia we need to know about it.”
“The last thing we need is more demon spawn running around!” Red Hood groaned over the comms.
Damian was furious. This was absurd! To even indulge the possibility that that creature was in any way related to him was making him feel like he had swallowed battery acid. He was the Demon’s Heir! He was not replaceable! There was only one thing to do.
“Robin? Stop!”
He ignored his Father’s shout. He stomped over to the lab table, snatched up the envelope and broke the seal.
Nothing happened.
He unfolded the paper and saw the same handwriting that had been on the outside.
Brother of blood, brother of soul
Never buried but already mourned
In lightning and ice the scorned child returned
To strike down the Demon’s Head
With all that Death earned
Damian’s hand shook. He reread the lines over and over again, refusing to comprehend. He could feel his Father standing behind him, scrutinising the letter as well.
“Son…”
Suddenly, the paper burst into green flames, going up into smoke that dissipated unnaturally quickly.
Silence reigned for a few moments. Then…
“Well that was needlessly melodramatic” Nightwing remarked.
Part 3
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nereidprinc3ss · 21 days
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come on home
in which the only person who can comfort you after your breakup with spencer reid, is spencer reid
inspired by the song "summer's end" by the artist currently known as phoebe bridgers
wc 2857
warnings: gn!reader (correct me if im wrong), minor mommy issues, angst, happy ending
a/n: thank you to the person who requested this:) u r an angel and I listened to this song the whole time i wrote (if you haven't heard, listen!!) i sincerely hope you enjoy, i like this one a lot<3
She hung up on you. 
Forty-seven minutes of being insulted and berated after you’d called her looking for comfort, and you put up with every single cruel word—just for your mother to hang up on you. And it’s exactly the kind of thing she’d do, so you shouldn’t be surprised. An ache, you’d expect—but it shouldn’t sting like this. You thought you knew better. 
Now you’re in a ball on your couch, clutching your phone to your chest and crying. There’s no point hiding it. Your roommate is out with her girlfriend for the evening—which is too bad because even though you feel like being alone, you’re sure that’s the wrong call. Your other friends are out having fun tonight, too. They’d even invited you, but you turned them down. Look where that had gotten you. Obviously, your mother is not the person you’re about to run to for comfort, either. 
You try to pretend, while you’re thinking of all these people who have ever cared for you, that Spencer Reid isn’t on your mind at all. You try to pretend like you don’t care that the person who loved you until you believed you actually deserved it is a contact going stale deep in the bowels of your text cache. With bleary eyes you scroll down, looking for your conversation where it gathers dust—the end of your relationship was a mutual decision, and you’re friendly, but you haven’t texted in a few weeks. Probably because every time the conversation starts to feel a little too easy, or the phone call lasts a little too long, that aching void in your chest gets worse and worse. Like pain in a phantom limb, you become acutely aware of what you do not have and how much it hurts.  
So blame it on the tears, or the mind-muddling melodrama of your relationship with your mother, blame it on anything but the truth—when your thumb drops on that call button like the plunger on a syringe, you don’t regret it.  
What you’re not expecting is for him to answer after the first ring. 
“Hi,” you say with a snuffle before Spencer can get a word in. There’s a brief interlude, in which you pick at your nails, comfortable to just sit in silence if that’s what he wants. As long as he’s there. 
“Hi.” Hearing his voice instantly melts a bit of the weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying. Another pause, for which you remain silent, because you can feel him formulating a question—and you’d like to hear him speak again. “...am I allowed to ask if you’re okay?” 
Your lips purse and twist to the side, pained and comforted by how easily he can tell that you’re distraught. One word across a tinny connection, and he knows. 
“No. Yes. I mean... I guess that’s why I called you. But you don’t have to ask me about it.” You sniff again and take a deep breath. “How was your day? What state are you in?” 
“I’m in the district,” he answers after a moment, easing into a casualness that he likely doesn’t feel for your sake. Wind crunches through the speaker. He probably just got out of work. “My day was... it was good. I got to talk about my job to a bunch of elementary schoolers, which is always a confidence boost.” 
You chuckle, still laying on your side on the couch and watching storm clouds gathering outside. 
“Nice, nice. What else?” 
“Let’s see... I forgot lunch, so I had three oranges, and they were actually pretty good. I reread Game of Thrones—I don’t know why I did that. I’m never going to like that book.” 
“Masochist,” you smile. He laughs, and you hear the sound of a car door opening. 
“Oh! I talked to my mom. Believe it or not, she says hi.” 
A completely inadvertent snort constitutes your response. It’s not what you meant to do, and out of context it’s sort of mean, but you actually think it’s incredibly endearing that he still talks to his mother about you. He scrambles to explain himself. 
“I swear, we barely talked about you this time. Mostly we talked about her new boyfriend Leonard.” 
“No, no, that’s not... I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you or your mom. That’s really sweet, actually. Tell her I say hi too.” 
When he next speaks, you can hear the smile in his voice. 
“I will.” Another long pause. You imagine him sitting in the parking lot at Quantico, keys vertical in the ignition of his old car and feeling the silence just as much as you are. He surprises you by not ending the conversation—instead he asks a question. It is concern, poorly disguised with nervous humor. Or maybe you just know him too well. “Do I get to find out what’s on your mind, or are you leaving me in suspense here?”  
You bite the inside of your cheek. 
“Um... well, actually, I just got off the phone with my mom, too. It didn’t go so well,” you laugh halfheartedly, “I know it was dumb to try and have an actual conversation with her, but... you know me. Always following blind optimism to the depths of hell.” 
“Why’d you call your mom?” he asks, so gently it brings a fresh round of tears to your eyes. Still, you attempt to put a cheerful affect on your strained voice. 
“Mm, you know. Just needed someone to talk to.” 
Spencer’s knowing sigh does little to make you feel better. 
“You know you can always talk to me, right? I know it’s... it’s different now, but... I care about you a lot. And, you know, I receive very few phone calls, so the line is pretty much always open.” 
Your laugh quickly devolves into a cry. 
“I appreciate that, but I can’t talk to you about everything.” 
“Why not?” he pleads immediately, voice thin and desperate like it’s his most burning question. A million lies dance over the tip of your tongue. A million things that feel safer to say than the truth. But in the end, it comes out anyway—choked, and so quiet, but aloud nonetheless. 
“Because I’m trying really hard to stop missing you so much.” 
Another long beat of silence. The back of your throat feels dry and hollow—a cage for your hummingbird heart. 
“If it hurts too much to talk to me, you don’t need to do that to yourself. But I also don’t want you to hurt yourself thinking you’re alone. You are... so important to me. I will always try to take care of you the best I can—whether that means staying away or being at your front door. If you ever need me, or even... vaguely want me, I will be there.” 
Each word caves your resolve. Each syllable is a slap in the face to progress you’d been pretending to make. You can be strong—you've proven that over the past ten weeks. You can be stone-faced and slash at your heart until the scar tissue is thick and jagged, and eventually it won’t hurt anymore. But maybe, by letting someone tend to the wounds, they’ll heal a little nicer. A little kinder. Even if you can’t undo the damage, maybe one day you’ll be soft again. 
“What if I vaguely want you right now?” you sniffle. 
Finally, you hear the silver jingle of keys turning. The sputter and rumble of an old engine coming to life. 
“Then I’m on my way.” 
Twenty four minutes later, there’s a soft knock at your door.  
After the call had ended, you’d wondered if you made it all up. Surely your ex-boyfriend wasn’t actually about to show up at your apartment. Someone you’ve grieved for can’t just come back—there are countless horror novels and movies based upon that very tenet. Does it matter if they ever actually died? How long is ten weeks, really? It feels like a lifetime. 
You shuffle across the room, wiping under your eyes with your already damp sleeves, and undoing all the locks Spencer had conditioned you to start using. When the door cracks open, and you see Spencer standing there, windswept and concerned, for the first time in months, it hits you like a tidal wave. You are, beyond a shadow of a doubt, still just as in love with him as you ever were. The relief that floods your veins as he looks down at you with so much care in his eyes is like sinking into warm water. It’s a dead giveaway, and maybe it makes this whole thing a terrible idea, but you can’t seem to care very much. You open the door wider, and he enters, and he stands in your kitchen with his hands in his coat pocket as you shut the door and he’s perfect. It dawns on you that for the first time since the breakup, you feel safe. Like you don’t have to be a stone pillar anymore. This, of course, translates into even more tears, which you try to hide as you face away, re-locking the door.  
“Sweetheart...” he sighs, because you can’t hide anything from him. Hearing the resonance of his voice so close to you once more is overwhelming. In an instant you’re rushing into his arms, and he accepts you without hesitation. You bury your teary face in the vetiver safety of his button-up and slip your arms under his coat, as if you could absorb his warmth and forever hide from the world that way. He pulls you even closer. It’s terrible and cruel how much he is exactly what you needed. “What’s wrong? What did she say?” 
You shake your head and gasp a small sob. 
Truthfully, you’re not really crying about the petty insults from your mother anymore. You’re back to square one, the reason you’d called your mother to begin with—you miss the man whose arms are currently wound around your shoulders. 
His hand smooths over the back of your hair. 
“Okay. That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.” 
You stay like that—content even as you cry because being with him feels so much safer than being alone. It feels right—or perhaps it’s just familiar. You don’t know which is worse.  
Spencer is rubbing soothing lines up and down your back as you cling to him, soaking him up in all his ephemeral, comforting glory. He surprises you by chuckling—it vibrates through his chest, buzzing against your ear. 
“Nice Magritte print. I bet the person who bought that has fantastic taste.” 
“Are you gonna ask for it back?” you mumble into the fabric of his suit jacket. He is, of course, referring to the painting you’d more or less stolen from his apartment seven months ago. You really don’t want him to take it home. It’s the most overt Spencer memorabilia you’d allowed yourself to keep in plain sight. 
“No, baby. You can keep it.” The words are low, and kind, and they settle you some, but you can’t seem to get him close enough. “What can I do?” he whispers after a moment, helpless as you take a shuddering breath. “Can I make you tea? Have you eaten?” 
“Will you just... stay for a little bit? I’ll—I promise I’ll stop crying.” 
There is an unexpected lull where you thought you’d receive pretty immediate agreement, but before you can pull back and ask what’s wrong, he murmurs, “yeah. I can stay for a while. But you have to kick me out before it gets too late.” 
You wonder if you’re imagining the double-entendre that seems to underline his words in bold red ink. Spencer is too smart to have not noticed a thing like that. You don’t mention it—it all boils down to the same unspoken idea. 
Don’t let me stay, because I might not leave. 
“I will,” you sniff, finally stepping back and wiping your own tears. It hurts to lose his touch, but at least you know he’s not going anywhere for the next few hours. This, as opposed to everything else lately, can be a beginning instead of an end.  
At least, until he goes home. 
Three and a half hours later, after tea, an impromptu dinner comprised mostly of cheese and crackers, and several vinyl changes on your record player (which served only as background noise for your long, ambling conversations), things are seeming to wind down to a natural stopping point. Which you hate. The whole time you’d had a dull ache in your chest because talking to him was easier than breathing and you knew it wouldn’t last. There had been one or two false bottoms already—the first when you’d yawned around nine, and the second when you’d gotten up to do your skincare and brush your teeth half an hour later. Even then he’d just leaned against the doorframe, watching your reflection above the sink as you talked for fifteen more minutes. Now you stand across from each other in the kitchen, plates restacked and everything in order. Of course he’d insisted on helping you clean up. 
“I should go,” he says, with a soft sort of finality in his voice.  
“Is your carriage turning into a pumpkin?” you tease gently, to hide how much you don’t want him to leave. He smiles—a small, weary thing—but genuinely and endlessly charmed by you. 
“That among other things.” 
“Would you—would you walk me to my room first?” 
The hesitance is clear in his eyes and the way his lips part as if to say, ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea’, but you're sure he’s really going to leave in a moment and you’re also sure he won’t deny you this one small thing before he does. 
“Okay.” 
It’s a short, silent walk through the living room and down the hall to your bedroom door, but you can feel him trailing behind you the whole way. You stop in front of your open door, turning face to face with him.  
“Thanks,” you murmur.  
His lips pull into a melancholy smile. 
“Anytime.” 
There’s nothing left to do but wrap your arms around each other once more, tuck yourself into the you-sized space between his head and shoulder and hold on for as long as he’ll let you. The hug lingers for longer than is wise. Spencer adjusts his arms looped around your waist, pulling you closer, and you nuzzle against his neck, grateful that at least he seems as reluctant to let this end as you are.  
But eventually, it relaxes. Your hold on each other loosens. His face is just inches from yours, and you get to study every plane and valley and line like you’d thought you never would again. It seems he’s doing the same—losing himself in the luxury of seeing you up close. 
“Will you kiss me goodnight?” you whisper, unable to muster any self-consciousness though you know it’s a fool’s errand. Spencer strokes your waist. 
“I can’t do that, honey.” 
“Why not?” 
His voice is just as quiet as yours. It falters slightly as he speaks, so gently, so patiently. 
“Because we’re not together anymore.” 
“Why not?” 
Your feeble, desperate supplication sounds pitiable even to you. You’re not proud, but you can’t find it in yourself to be ashamed, either. All you want is an answer. But it’s like a child asking why the sky is blue, or the earth is round. There is a definitive explanation, but mostly, the adult will shrug, and say, that’s just how it is. 
Spencer’s eyes squeeze shut. His head tilts down. 
“We can’t do this again, sweetheart. You know why we’re not together.” 
In theory—yes. You’d had so many conversations when you’d broken up. It had been a long, painful process, spanning multiple all-nighters at his kitchen table, nursing coffee and trying to convince each other and yourselves that it was the right choice. But it just feels like a horrible, horrible mistake. You feel desperate to explain this to him before he slips away again—the words come out flustered, inelegant as you cling to him.
“But I don’t think I’m getting better without you. I tried, I tried so hard to be good on my own, but everything is worse and harder and—and we weren’t sure about it then, and I don’t think it was the right choice, because I still really need you. Like, all the time. I’m—it’s not getting better without you. Nothing got better.” 
He swallows, eyes darting between yours for an infinite second. You’re breathless and your heart is pounding after your confession—you can feel your eyes stinging with the few tears that managed to escape as you spoke. 
“Everything is worse,” he agrees shakily. “Everything. I’m—I’m getting disciplinary infractions from Hotch like I’m a child because I can’t focus on anything. Game of Thrones is the most complex literature I can comprehend right now. I had to use a calculator the other day.” 
You want to laugh, but nothing is funny until he’s yours again. 
“Then come back. Please come back, Spencer.” 
Finally, he leans closer, until your heads are pressed together, and his nose bumps yours, feather light. You're dizzy. You exhale. He inhales. 
“I don’t think I knew how to leave in the first place.” 
When he kisses you, it feels like home. 
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babyleostuff · 2 months
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stupid in love | jeon wonwoo
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song rec: stupid in love
fluff 𐙚 established relationship 𐙚 idol!wonwoo x gn!reader 𐙚 wc: 928
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“why don’t we get married in las vegas?” 
you looked over at your boyfriend who was doing his usual gaming business, while you laid on the bed upside down with your head hanging down from the edge of the bed, bored out of your mind. 
“whatever you want baby,” he sighed, clearly not paying attention to what you had just said. your boyfriend wasn’t the type to make rash decisions, especially when it came to something as important as marriage, hell - he was scared of getting married, so it was clear as day that he was ignoring you.  
you pursed your lips, and rolled your eyes annoyed. your plan on pranking wonwoo clearly wasn’t working, and sadly that was your last idea of keeping yourself occupied while your boyfriend was busy playing cute cat games instead of spending time with you. 
“it’s not like we need a guest list, right?” 
he only hummed in agreement, still not paying much attention to your words. 
“mingyu could be the groomsman,” you kept talking to yourself, twirling one of your hair strands around your finger. “oh, and we could get matching tattoos! that’d be so much-” 
“we could get what?” wonwoo turned around in his chair at the speed of light, looking at you with pure horror in his eyes.
“seriously? out of everything i’ve been saying for the past twenty minutes that’s what you chose to hear?” you huffed, and pulled yourself up to sit properly on the bed, fixing the sleeves of the sweater you stole from him.  
“chose to hear?” he tilted his head, and took off his headphones, looking at you with the biggest puppy eyes. now he’s giving you the full attention. bastard. “i’ve been listening to you for the whole time, honey.” 
liar. 
“okay,” you smiled innocently, walking over to where he was sitting. two can play this game. “so who do you want to be your groomsman? i was thinking mingyu, but you know,” you sighed dramatically, cupping his cheek. “maybe you don’t agree with me, maybe you want someone else.” 
you plopped down on his lap, still cupping his cheek to make sure his eyes were on you, although that wasn’t really necessary anymore. wonwoo was looking at you with big, scared eyes with his glasses at the tip of his nose. it seemed that the word “groomsman” had caught his attention now.  
“and after the wedding we could get matching tattoos,” your hands quickly found their way into his hair that was getting so long. not that you were complaining. “as a wedding gift,” you smiled sweetly at him, kissing his nose. 
even though his eyes were screaming send help, your boyfriend looked like the cutest bean ever. sometimes it was worth being a menace. 
“baby you know i love you,” he said slowly, obviously trying to figure out how to tell you that he did in fact not want to get married in las vegas without hurting your feelings. “and you know i’d do anything for you,” he continued, mirroring you and cupping your cheek as well. 
“but don’t you think it’s a bit too soon to think about marriage? and no offense, but i don’t want mingyu to be my groomsman,” he swallowed nervously waiting for your reaction. 
wonwoo frowned as you bursted out laughing, your whole body literally shaking. you buried your face in his neck, and wrapped your arms tightly around his broad shoulders. “why are you laughing? stop making fun of me,” you could hear the cute pout in his voice, something that happened a lot more lately. 
“i’m not making fun of you, i promise,” you cooed, kissing his cheek. “i was just trying to get your attention.”
“why didn’t you just tap me on the shoulder or something? you really scared me with all of that marriage talk!” he exclaimed, trying his best to look offended. 
“and where’s the fun in that, hm?” you smiled and tilted your head. “besides, you heard only the last part of my “marriage talk”, jeon wonwoo, so don’t be a baby about it.” 
he sighed, running his thumb over your cheek. “sorry i wasn’t paying attention to you, i jus-” 
“it’s okay,” you laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. “i was just bored, and in a mood to annoy you. don’t worry about the whole marriage thing, i was just joking. besides, las vegas is the last place we’re getting married,” you bumped your nose with his, and heard him exhale in relief. 
“you know,” he murmured, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “valentine's day is coming up and i have a few days off from work then, and you've always wanted to see paris, so maybe instead of the wedding in las vegas, we could fly to paris for a few days?” 
you placed your chin on his chest looking up at him. “what did i do to deserve you?” 
“i’m asking myself the same question everyday.” 
you both stared at each other for a moment before you both burst out laughing again.
"that was so corny, jeez," you snorted, finally adjusting your boyfriend's glasses, pushing them further up his nose. wonwoo just shook his head and kissed your cheek.
“but if i'm being honest," he said shyly. "no matter how much i fear marriage, i can't wait for the day when we share the last name,” wonwoo cupped your cheeks again, pulling your face to his until his lips were hovering over yours. 
“i’m just so stupid in love with you.” 
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Hi guys!
This is a request I had some days (or weeks?) ago. I hope it would please the sweet anon who asked for it :)
Enjoy!
TW : Concussion, blood, injury, fainting.
_____________________________________________________________
Since the beginning of the day, something seems of when you look at your girlfriend. She seems worried, not at ease and is excessively clingy with you. Not that you don’t like it, but Lia always have said that you should be careful about your relationship. She doesn’t exactly want to be secret, but she wants people to concentrate on her play and not on her relationship. Which you can understand, her breakup with Caitlin Foord looked like it involved a lot of other people. The fans, actually.
You choose not to come together this afternoon for the game, you’re playing in the Arsenal’s stadium, so you have to come with your cars. You asked Alessia to pick you up and Lia is supposed to get you home. Because of the traffic jam Alessia and you are a little late. You are surprised to see you girlfriend almost jumping on you when you arrive, grabbing you by the sleeve of your jacket.
“Where the hell have you been?! I was worried sick!”
You look at her with incredulity written on your face. Where is your girlfriend, always calm, posed, thoughtful and rational?
“We had a lot of traffic on the road, but everything’s fine. Are you ok?”
She doesn’t answer, grabbing you by the hand this time, to get you to the changing room. You question Leah with a look, but the blonde only shrugs her shoulders. You take Alessia with you with your free hand, dragging her with you.
You are not even late when you get on the pitch, starting the training after hearing some of tactical adjustments from Jonas. Lia, sitting next to you, doesn’t seem to be able to stay still. And she is very nervous during the drill too, making you wonder what the hell is happening to her.
You take her around a corner before going to change for the game, far away from the other’s ears.
“Lia what’s happening? You are acting weird since this morning.”
“Nothing” Lia sighs, looking around her.
Everywhere but you. You cup her cheek with your hand, attending to have a real exchange of look with her. You know that when you look at her in her eyes, she can’t lie.
“Lia” you say with a soothing voice. “Talk to me Baby, please.”
She sights and rub her face, still leaning against your touch anyway.
“You are going to think that I’m stupid.”
“Not even in your wildest dream.”
This time your girlfriend rolls her eyes and smile lightly, making you smirk in return. You know that if it’s affecting Lia like this, this isn’t nothing.
“I just have that feeling that something bad will happen. I had it when Leah did her ACL and it’s back.”
The Swiss woman already talked to you about the feeling she had that day, almost seeming to say that it was her fault if something like that happened to Leah. You trust her, obviously. But your job is to reassure her too.
“It’s going to be ok Babe, I swear. I won’t let anyone take you down.”
Next to Katie and Leah for today, you are a defender. And for you, your job is to not let the other team come near your goalkeeper, but not to touch any of your teammates too. The fans call you The Bodyguard, and it’s not for your passion for the song « I will always love you ». You are higher than Lia but you aren’t really high either. You don’t seem to be big too, but your muscles allow you to stay with your feet firmly on the ground against almost every charge.
You offer a hug at Lia, who cuddle against you. She doesn’t exactly worry about herself, more about one of your friends. But she tries to convince herself what you said. It’s going to be alright.
During the game, you see your girlfriend flinch every time that one of your teammates is on the ground. Liverpool isn’t playing dirty, there are some faults of course, but it’s a great game. At halftime, it’s 2-0 for Arsenal.
But when you are back in your cubby, your girlfriend always seems to the point of fainting from stress. You decide to abandon Lotte and her cubby next to yours to go sit next to Lia in her cubby. You propose her half of your banana, which she take with a small smile. Looking around to be sure that no one is looking at you, you kiss her cheek.
“Breath Babe. Everything is fine, see? We are winning and no one is hurt.”
Lia nod and take your arm against her, trapping it between her two. You let her, smiling when she put her head on it. When it’s time to get back, you kiss her hair and follow her peacefully.
You should have listened to her though. Because it’s not her, it’s not one of your teammates that get hurt at the end of the game.
It’s you.
Around the 80 minutes, you are running on the box to try to take a ball from Caitlin. She sends it and at the same time as you, another player from the other team is jumping. Your heads collided. Hard. You were running from all your speed, so is your opponent. The first shock almost knocks you out immediately, but the way you fall on the ground with all your weight, head first, it’s the one thing too many.
You fall out, not reacting at first when Caitlin run to you, making you roll to your side. Jonas is screaming to the medic to “get your ass on the pitch right now”. When they arrive at your side, Alessia and Katie are here too. But Lia is frozen at the other side of the pitch, unable to make a move.
After some hesitation and realizing that the medical team shushed away almost everyone from you, Leah decides to take care of Lia. There is only Katie left next to you, maybe because she’s your best friend. Some feet from away you, Alessia and Caitlin are shaking and Lia knows right away that this is bad.
“Lia” Leah calls her.
The Swiss woman looks at her friend, who doesn’t know what to say. The blonde just takes Lia’s hand, training her slowly in the direction of the bench, where your other teammates are. But when she realizes where she’s going, Lia stop dead in her track.
“I want to see her” Lia mumbles.
“I don’t know if it’s a good idea...”
Alessia, who were not far from them give a look at Leah. She shakes her head at Leah behind Lia’s back and the blonde understand quickly. But Lia sees that Leah is looking at someone and Alessia can’t stay quiet when she sees your girlfriend’s face.
“I think it’s better that you stay here for some seconds. There is blood and…”
And suddenly there is more movement next to you and they can see Katie standing up. Her hands are red with your blood and Lia starts walking without really realizing it. She ignores Leah calling her, she just wants to see you.
“Lia, stop, Sweetheart” Katie says softly when she saw your girlfriend’s coming.
“I want to see her” Lia mumbles, looking at Katie.
“I know. Just wait some seconds, ok? Believe me, please. She’s breathing but passed out, they want to clean her wound. And she kind of… Throw up. They say it’s because of the shock.”
A little far from you, the other injured player is standing but have a bag of ice against her head. But she’s up, unlike you. Lia watches Katie washes her hand and let a sob out before talking.
“I knew something bad would happen, I told her. It can’t be happening again.”
“Lia stop, it’s not your fault.”
But before she can explain why it actually is, the medical team is moving you off the pitch. They put you on a stretcher and Lia could now have a full look on you. You’re still off, a massive bandage around your head and some blood is still on your face.
“I’m going with her” Lia informs Jonas.
The man is a little surprised, usually Lia is the one of all her player who will listen to him without a second thought. But right now, he saw the despair on Lia’s face and know right away that he can ask her to finish the game.
“We’ll bring you your stuff” Leah says.
Kyra gives Lia her jacket to keep her warm and with that the Swiss woman is following you until you are in the ambulance. They put you on monitor and gave a call to the hospital to say that you are coming. You’re still not up and they want to make some tests to know and understand why.
At the hospital, a sweet nurse takes Lia in the waiting room, offering her a coffee. Lia takes it, but when Katie, Leah and Caitlin are here, her cup is still full. Katie put your bags next to Lia on the ground and Leah sits next to Lia, kissing her head. Caitlin looks unsure about what to do though. She came because she wanted to be there for Katie and for Lia too, but with their past, she doesn’t know if Lia wants her here.
They exchanged a look though and Lia just nod in direction of a free chair next to Katie. With a small smile, Caitlin sits next to Katie, taking her hand is hers.
“What did they say?” Leah asks.
“Almost nothing. They are making tests and x-ray to see how her injury is. She didn’t wake up, Lee.”
Lia doesn’t want to cry. She really doesn’t. But she can’t stop the tears from rolling on her cheeks. Big, hot tears. Feeling her heart breaking for her friend, Leah takes her against her and let Lia put her head on her shoulder.
“It’s going to be ok” Leah mumbles.
Some time pass, hours actually, and Lia almost fall asleep on Leah’s shoulder from exhaustion. But she jumps every time, trying not to. Even if the three other girls told them that they will wake her up. Lia rings your parents instead, even if she doesn’t have anything good to say to them.
“Family of Y/N Y/L/N?”
“It’s me. I mean it’s us”
Lia jumps on her legs and almost run to the doctor. He looks at the four girls with an arched brow.
“Are you all her family?”
“This is her girlfriend” Katie answers almost aggressively.
Caitlin takes discreetly her hand in hers, trying to calm her girlfriend. The doctor sighs but add nothing, looking back at his papers.
“So, we made some test to understand her injury better. She doesn’t have anything broken or blood inside, but she has a massive concussion. We don’t know when she will wake up and she will obviously staying here all the time she needs to wake up. Maybe she will have some repercussions, but we can’t say anything right now.”
“What do you mean, repercussions?”
Leah asks for Lia, who seems very close to a nervous break down.
“Loss of memory, attention disorders, chronic headaches, nausea” he starts to list with a disinterested air. “Language and visualization in space disorders, change of behavior, character... Well, you know. All that. I have to go I’m sorry, ask the nurse if you need anything”
It’s with a defeat face that Lia turns herself in the direction of her friends. They all look stunned, but no one know what to say.
“How am I supposed to tell that to her parents?” Lia whispers before realizing something else. “He didn’t even say if we can see her!”
“Let me see if I can find someone.”
Caitlin left to find a nurse and when she comes back almost five minutes later, the three others are in the same disposition.
“I will take you to Y/N, ok Love?”
It’s the same nurse that gave Lia some coffee before, and the Swiss woman just nod, following her in the floors of the hospital. They don’t say anything before being in front of your room.
“Four is a little too much but for now I will let you in. But please, be quiet, ok?”
They all nod, before going in and Lia can’t stop some tears from falling. You seem so small in this bed with all the monitors around you. They change your bandage so it’s not bloody anymore. But you have a black eye and the cocky smile you usually have on your face is gone.
Lia lets herself fall on the chair who is the closest from you, taking her head in her hands.
“The doctor said that she will have like trouble of memories and language when she will wake up” Katie says to the nurse.
She frowns at her, before rolling her eyes.
“Those are some possibilities, but they are very rare and it usually happens when the concussion isn’t healed fast. Y/N had professional who were here for her immediately, the risks are very small. They exist, that’s for sur. But don’t think about it now.”
The nurse’s statements allow Lia to breathe a little better. Her muscles remain very tense when Leah puts a comforting hand on her shoulder.
Lia gets closer to you while the other three are busy warning the people you are closest to, while the nurse (Lydia, like her tag says) left the room after asking them not to stay to long at four people.
“Hey Love” Lia whispers, her chin on the mattress next to your face. “It’s me. I know you are hurt and I’m really sorry. Take the time you need to get better, but please, please, come back to me.”
********
It was hard for your friends to make Lia leaves you, even for some hours and even if someone else is here to have a look on you. She’s terrified that something could happened to you while she’s not here. Or that you wake up all alone in your room. They managed to take her at least once a day off anyway, so that she can take a shower and change her clothes.
Lia is currently sitting on the same chair, making some Sudoku she stole from Leah, when she hears you mumble something. She almost falls of her chair in her precipitation to have a look at you. You already moved a little this morning, but you were still deep asleep.
“Love? Can you hear me?” Lia whispers.
It takes you all your strength to open your eyes, the intensity of the light immediately making your head hurt.
“Lia?”
After that there are some noises and movements around you. Lia called the nurses, and your mother came back running in the room. But Lia never left your hand, and this is what helps you to stay focus.
After Lia helped you to drink some water, the doctor comes to you with his flashlight to look at your eyes. The light makes you groan in pain and Lia mumble something in Swiss-German that the doctor should be happy not to understand.
“How are you feeling Y/N?” he asks you.
“Tired” you mumble hardly.
“Yes, that’s normal. You will be for some more days.”
He keeps talking but you can’t focus anymore. Squeezing very weakly Lia’s hand around yours, you fall asleep again.
Days are passing and you get better, but really slowly. The first days, you can barely open your eyes. You felt more than you saw Lia, your parents and Katie’s presence next to you. It seems like your girlfriend is always here when you open your eyes, looking way to worried for your taste.
With more days, you can stay awake a little bit longer, but you can’t have a big conversation. You listen and look lovingly at Lia, smile at Katie when she tells you real-life training stories through exaggerated gestures and you let your mother washing your hair when they change your bandage, something she probably never have done since you are two.
You did more tests too and the only problems you seem to have now, is a constant need to sleep and difficulty to keep focus. But Lydia told you that it would probably get better with time. The club made a statement about your case, and you let them handle that, trusting them with all your being.
********
“I have a good new, Y/N” sings Lydia when she comes to your room that day. “You can go home today.”
Lia smiles and you frowns. You don’t want to be something difficult to manage to Lia, you are not living together but you know that you will need someone to take care of you for some days.
“Isn’t it too soon?” your mother asks.
“I don’t think so. She has great results for the tests, get better every day and I’m sure that Lia here will take great care of her.”
She winks at you and Lia and you smirk when you see that Lia is blushing a little. Your mother can’t say anything against that, she knows perfectly how much you mean to Lia. And how much she means to you.
“I will come back with the fills to signs, the different prescriptions and everything you will need. Take your time to be ready, yeah?”
You nod and your mother takes her phone from her purse.
“I’m going to call your dad.”
It’s like the first time that you find yourself all alone with Lia. And you take advantage of that to ask her the question that is on your mind.
“Are you sure? It probably will be complicated and with the trainings and all…”
“I am sure, Y/N. Don’t worry, really. I will take great care of you, like Lydia says. We can go to your house if you want… Well, it would probably be better that way, you don’t have stairs like I do.”
You look at her rumble, your head against the cushion. You have your cocky smirk back and Lia realize it immediately of course.
“What?” she asks.
“Nothing. I’m just lucky to have you. And I love you.”
She gives you her shy, beautiful smile back and takes you very softly against her. Even if you only have a head injury, she looks sometimes like she thinks you have broken ribs or something. Which you don’t.
“I love you too.”
She kisses lovingly your forehead, and you tilt your head in your direction, pouting. It makes her roll her eyes but she complied, kissing your lips softly. After that, she put her forehead against yours, looking deep in your eyes.
“You don’t know how much I am relieved that you are ok. I don’t know what I would have done if…”
With a finger on her lips, you make her be silent. She already excuses herself the other day, affirming that your injury was because of her. Because of her feeling that day and you already told her that this is stupid.
“Lia, stop. I am fine and I will be even better thanks to you. Please stop thinking that way.”
You are still very weak to be honest and you will have to take a wheelchair to left the hospital. You slept the journey to go to your house and fall asleep again after taking a proper shower with Lia’s help.
But you will get better and eight weeks after your injury, you are back on the pitch, stronger than ever.
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greatooglymooglyyy · 2 months
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My Tears Ricochet (Matthew Sturniolo)
contains: verbal argument, cheating allegations, crying, breakup, no happy ending, 1.5k words
a/n: honestly i'm sorry for this one. ouch. i said it alr but im not doing a part 2 for this one b/c i don't wanna lmao, the song is how writing this made me feel lol, requested by @nicksmainbitch and i took parts of an anon request
“We need to talk.”
I look down and study the message for maybe the hundredth time since Matt sent it an hour ago. Taking a deep steading breath, I kill my car engine and finally open the door. I’ve been sitting in his driveway for ten minutes now and it’s getting pathetic but I couldn’t help it. There’s nothing I hate more than a cryptic message, especially from Matt.
I use my key to let myself in the house, kicking off my shoes at the entrance, and pause when I notice how quiet it seems. Either Nick and Chris aren’t here or something is very wrong but my gut is leaning towards both. I pull out my phone to check their location but my heart drops when I realize all three of them aren’t showing up on Find My Friends.
Okay. It’s fine. Probably just a glitch. It has to be. I take the stairs two at a time and rush into Matt’s room, finding him with his head down at his desk.
“Matt?” I say quietly, placing a hand on his shoulder that he immediately jerks away from like I’ve burned him.
He lifts his head, spinning the chair around my way, and the look he gives me is like a stab to the heart. Because in all the years I’ve known Matt, in all the years I’ve loved him, he’s never looked at me like he’s looking at me now. Like he can see right through me. Like I’m no one at all to him.
“How long?” He asks calmly, his voice like a brewing storm. “Just tell me that. How long have I been a fucking idiot for?”
I stare back at him silently for a minute, caught between confusion and indignation. “What are you talking about?”
He closes his eyes and shakes his head before he tilts it up to the ceiling. “Listen. Tell me the truth. If you tell me the truth, I can try…” He stops and clears his throat like the words have jammed there. “I love you enough to try to get over it. But, if you lie-”
“What the fuck are you accusing me of, Matthew?” I snap, cutting him off. I feel the anger rising in my chest and blink away the hot tears that are beginning to gather. If Matt and I had one thing going for us, it was trust. We’ve never touched each other’s phones, never questioned stories. We just believed in our bond. But I can feel that trust starting to crumble around us and I don’t know what to do.
Matt grabs his phone from the desk and thrusts it into my hands. “Here. Your side piece must have gotten tired of waiting.”
I look down and skim the drama page he has pulled up, my jaw going slack. Someone has been sending in “proof” that I’ve been cheating on him. There are text messages with time stamps and they’ve even included pictures of me sleeping.
I look back at Matt and find him watching my reaction with his eyes low. “These are obviously fake-” I start but Matt stands up and walks past me to his closet.
“Yeah. That’s what I thought too. Until I saw the pictures. Go ahead and tell me that’s not your tattoo.” He’s breathing heavily now and I can tell he’s trying not to cry. “One more chance. Tell me the truth. Did you fuck him?”
“Matt. Please.” I walk over to him and spin him around to face me, feeling his body tense against my touch. “You know me better than this.”
I step closer and draw him to me, wrapping my arms around his waist, and he lets me. He buries his head in my hair and breaks down. Deep body wracking sobs. So I just hold him, not knowing what to do or say. I can’t prove I didn’t send a message and I have no idea where those pictures came from or how to show him they must be old. So I’m stuck.
When he finally calms down, he pulls away from me and walks back to the desk. He drops down and slouches, defeated. “Oh my god.” His face is contorted with pain and I’m not sure if his expression or words make me sicker. “I thought you were the one.”
I stand there helpless for a minute, tears streaming down my face before I finally speak. “I can’t make you believe me. You gotta do that on your own.”
When he says nothing, I nod, not trusting myself to speak, and gather up my belongings. Before I turn to leave, I yank his house key off my chain and place it on his desk without meeting his eyes. As soon as I put my hand on the doorknob, I want to fall to my knees and cry but I push down the feeling and swing the door open.
I wait for him to say something, anything when I leave. I wait for it all the way down the stairs. I’m still expecting it when I reach my car, and I pause and listen for him to chase after me, to fight.
But he doesn’t so I drive home, drop into my bed and cry. And when he still doesn’t the next day or the next, I force myself to get up and figure out a new normal.
********************
It’s unusually cold for Los Angeles the night he comes, two months later. When I hear his voice spill through the callbox, it takes everything I have not to let my knees buckle. I’ve spent every day of the last couple of months trying to avoid hearing it at all costs.
He speaks again, begging to be let in and I buzz him up without thinking. I run to throw on some sweatpants and then stand with my arms crossed, trying to prepare myself to see his face.
It doesn’t work. Matt walks through the door like a wrecking ball and I’m caught in his wake. He stands awkwardly near the door, shifting from foot to foot.
“What are you doing here, Matt?” My voice sounds exhausted even to me. All the work I’ve done putting myself back together and here he comes toppling me over again.
“I just…” He trails off and begins pacing. “It was your ex. That fucking loser. The picture was old and he-”
“I know.”
“-fucking edited those texts. The motherfucker hit me up trying to-” He pauses finally registering what I said. “What do you mean you know?”
“He called me a few days after we broke up trying to get back together and I finally remembered the picture,” I say, not letting myself look away like I’m dying to.
Matt freezes at this, staring at me in disbelief, before he pulls out a chair from the table and flops down. “But… why wouldn’t you tell me?”
“How did you expect me to do that? Go to Apple headquarters and ask them to unblock me? Email Laura?” I seethe.
“You could've come over. You should have! It changes everything-”
“It changed nothing for me. I already knew I didn’t fucking cheat on you.” My voice cracks slightly but I shake my head. If my mom taught me one thing, it’s to never cry over a boy to his face.
Matt says my name so softly I almost don’t hear it and I cut my eyes back to his. “What do you want me to do? I will do whatever you need to fix this.”
I huff out a humorless laugh at how much I wanted those words and how empty they sound now. “You don’t get to do this to me.”
“Tell me you don’t love me and I’ll go.” He says and I believe him. I don’t think he’d even hesitate.
“I can’t.” Matt stands and advances quickly toward me but I stop him with a hand on his chest. “But, it doesn’t matter. I don’t trust you.”
He winces, clenching his jaw. "I thought you fucking cheated on me! I thought you were throwing everything away.”
“So you threw it away first.”
He raises his voice now, anger and conviction mixing in his tone. “No! I thought all of that and I was still going to stay. That’s how much I wanted you. That’s how much I love you.”
“Then that’s the difference between me and you.” I breathe out a shaky breath, stepping closer to him. “I don’t think that’s love at all.”
His breathing stutters as he moves backward, studying my face. “So that’s it?”
I force myself to shrug. “I think it’s been it. Since the day I walked out of your house crying and you let me.”
He nods again slowly, whispering a quiet "I'm sorry", before turning and heading for the exit. But before he leaves, Matt pauses looking over his shoulder. “Do you think we got this right somewhere in the multiverse?”
I smile weakly, blinking back my tears. “God, I hope so.”
He returns my smile with a sad one of his own before he opens the door and steps out of my apartment for the last time.
When the door clicks shut, I hold my breath and count to five until I’m sure he’s far enough away. Then I let go, dropping to my knees and finally letting myself fall apart.
taglist:
@sturniolho @sttzee @tillies33ssss @miloisdone1 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @mrsmiagreer @asturniolos
@teapartyprincess4two @whicked-hazlatwhore @sukiipjs @accio326 @sturniolosmind @imfromthediningtable @rootbeerworshiper
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somanyratsinthewalls · 2 months
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Self-Doubt (+18)
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Pairing: Sanji x Fem!Reader
WC: 2600
MINORS DNI
Summary: Sanji isn't himself after being rescued. You help him work through his big feelings
CW: HURT AND COMFORT. trauma? sex, oral sex, MOMMY KINK, boob suckin, unprotected sex (don't) creampies (also don't) and pet names.
(Not proof read my edible kicked in)
— — 
After successfully rescuing your cook from Big Mom’s clutches, there was something off about him. Sanji wasn’t the same flirty, playful man that had left you at Dressrosa. He seemed distracted all of the time, like he was lost inside of his own head as he absentmindedly stirred pots and pans on the stove. His constant fawning over you, Nami, and Robin had slowed dramatically and hell, he barely even argued with Zoro anymore… that was the biggest red flag.  You cared for your crew mate and friend deeply, so you were determined to help him out of this slump. 
Your attempts at getting him to open up to you had repeatedly failed. Each time you asked him if something was bothering him or even just asking how he was doing, he would fake a smile and tell you not to worry about him. You couldn’t give up, you had to try harder. 
One afternoon, you catch Sanji in the kitchen preparing for dinner. 
“Smells good in here!” You say in a sing song voice you enter the galley and see your favorite cook at the counter chopping carrots. 
“Y/n, darling, thank you. Anything you need?” Sanji briefly looks up at you to flash you a tired smile. 
“Hmmm maybe…” You stroll into the large pantry and root around. 
“Y/n if there’s something you desire, I’d be happy to fetch it for you, no need to dig around in there…” Sanji puts his knife down on the cutting board with a huff. 
Before Sanji could step towards the pantry, you emerge with two wine glasses and a bottle of white wine in your hands. 
“What do you say you shuck a couple of those oysters in the ice box and we can enjoy them with this,” You wiggle the wine bottle in Sanji’s direction. “Like we used to back the day? I know they’re your favorite. Remember when we’d have to put a chair under the door handle so Luffy wouldn’t come in and slurp them all down?”
Sanji chuckles lowly and shakes his head. 
“Yes how could I forget? We would get so drunk, too…” He cracks a genuine smily briefly before it fades from his lips. “I’m not hungry. But if you’d like some, I can prepare some for you.”
You sigh.
“I don’t want them by myself. Will you at least have a glass of wine with me?” You smile and step closer to him. 
“I can do that.” Sanji reaches into his pocket and retrieved his wine key. He takes the bottle and glasses from you. He opens the bottle and pours two large glasses full. 
“Ice in yours?” Sanji asks. 
“You always remember how I like things.” You nod and smile. 
Sanji plops a few ice cubes into your glass. You raise yours. 
“Cheers to having you back.” You say as you tip your glass in his direction. 
Sanji hesitates, but eventually grabs his glass and clinked it with yours wordlessly. You both sip your drinks. 
“If you don’t mind, darling, I have to finish preparing for dinner. You can stay if you’d like, but I can’t say I’m much of a conversationalist as of late…” Sanji throws a dish towel over his shoulder and continues his work on the vegetables. 
“It’s fine. You don’t have to talk. I just like being around you.” 
Sanji nods and you watch him cook in silence for the next hour. As you observed him, you notice the heavy grey bags under his eyes, it was now clear that he wasn’t sleeping. Every now and then he would reach up and rub at his neck, obviously sore and aching. You hated seeing him in such a state, but he made it clear he wasn’t ready to talk and you weren’t going to force it. 
Once Sanji finishes the meal, you head out and gather the rest of the crew for dinner. 
The meal was wonderful as always and your rowdy crew filled the room with raucous laughter and conversation. Once everyone had their fill of food and drink, they thanked Sanji and filed out of the dining room to entertain their own evening activities. Most of your crew mates had gone to bed, but since the night was clear and warm you decided to lay out on the deck and look for shooting stars with Chopper. 
“You see those 5 big stars over there?” You say as you point into the distance. 
“Yeah, I think so!” Chopper wiggles his ears. 
“That constellation is called Pablo the Reindeer Warrior! He was a famous big strong reindeer who saved a city from destruction and became a hero!” 
“Wow! Really?!” Chopper looks over at you. 
“No, haha. I had you there!” You throw your head back and laugh. 
“Aww, y/n no fair.” The little reindeer pouts. 
“Sorry little buddy, it was too easy.” 
After a few minutes go by you see a shooting star. 
“Chopper did you see that!?” You turn to the side and see the tiny doctor fast asleep beside you. You smile and scoop him up in your arms and rise to your feet. You carry Chopper to his bed in the medical bay and tuck him in tightly. You yawn. It was late, but you wanted to see if Sanji was still doing dishes before you headed off to sleep. 
Sure enough, as you enter the galley, Sanji’s slender figure was slumped over the sink finishing up the dishes. 
“Hey San-“ You stop once you hear a sniffle. 
You go silent and don’t move any further. Was he… crying?
“*sniff* y/n, it’s late.” Sanji chokes back something like a wet sob. “You should head to bed. *sniff*” Sanji says without turning around, right hand covering his face over the sink.
“Sanji… you’re… not okay…” You say softly as you approach him slowly. “And that’s okay… you just have to let someone help you… we’re a family and you don’t have to do anything alone…” You reach his trembling form and reach up to gingerly touch his shoulder. 
Sanji jerks against your touch. You recoil your hand. 
“No! Don’t you get it! I fucked up! I am fucked up!” Sanji removes his hand from his face, revealing red, wet eyes. “I put everyone in danger and it was all my fault…” Heavy tears spill over and cascade down his porcelain cheeks. 
You immediately pull him into you and put your hand on the back of his head to push him into the crook of your neck. You wrap your other around around his shoulder to keep him close to your body. He cries harder. 
“I can’t sleep, y/n… I keep having nightmares… It’s just too much…” Sanji breathes out into your skin, now wet from his tears. You stroke his hair. 
“Sanji I understand why you might feel like that, but I promise you no one resents you for anything. You were doing what you thought would save us. We’re all just so happy to have you back.” You coo soothingly into his ear. 
“You shouldn’t have come for me, I’m not worth it. I’m a disgusting monster…” Sanji sobs 
You rub circles into his back. 
“Hey, out of all the disgusting monsters we’ve fought over these years, I’m pretty sure you’re very low on the list.” You joke. 
Sanji cries harder. 
“Oh come on, you know I’m kidding. You’re not disgusting and you’re not a monster. Imagine Luffy hearing you say this? You know he wouldn’t stand for it.” You state firmly. 
Sanji’s sobbing slows. 
“Hey… why don’t you stay with me tonight?” You ask. 
Sanji pulls back and looks in your eyes.
“What?” He questions. 
“If you stay with me, you won’t be alone if you have a nightmare. You’ll feel better if you get a decent night’s sleep.” You wipe tears and snot from his princely face. “Please?” You persist. 
“I… Ok…” Sanji resigns. 
“Good, when you finish cleaning up, come to my room.” You push his hair back and retreat to your bedroom deep inside the ship. 
You wash up and slip on a large clean shirt and boy short panties before you slide into bed. You sigh and stretch against your comfortable sheets. 
*knock knock*
“Come in!” You holler from your bed. Sanji meekly peeks his head into your room and you smile and wave him in. He had cleaned up his face and combed his hair, his normal three piece suit swapped for grey sweats and a white tee. 
“Hi!” You sit up in bed and pat the spot next to you in bed. 
“A-are you sure you don’t want me to sleep on the loveseat?” Sanji asked as he pointed at the couch in the corner of your bedroom. 
“Sleeping on a sofa isn’t going to make your quality of sleep any better. Shut up and get in here, cook.” You roll your eyes. Sanji delicately slides underneath your fluffy purple comforter and takes his place beside you. 
“Good. Now get some sleep.” You reach up and turn out your bedside lamp. You settle yourself in, facing inwards curled on your side, how you always slept. You listen to Sanji’s nervous, heavy breathing for a few moments before he spoke. 
“Y/n?” 
“Yes?” You open your eyes and look up at him. 
“Could I… hold you?” He asks with a shaky breath. 
“Of course. Come here.” You pull Sanji’s head down to lay between your breasts and he wraps him arm around your waist. You throw your leg over his hip and begin stroking his hair. Sanji couldn’t help but nuzzle his nose deeper into the crease of your breasts through your shirt. You smirk. After a few minutes of innocent cuddling, you feel Sanji’s hand on your side slip up your shirt and caress your naked back. The next thing you notice is the very slight grinding up his hips up into you. He was so cute like this, you couldn’t help but want to let him play… Maybe this is what he needed?
“Here baby…” you quickly pull back and remove your shirt, breasts falling into Sanji’s face in the process. You lay back down and pull his head back to your tits. “Go ahead and suck, sweetheart…” You guide his lips to your erect nipple. 
“Y/n yes…mmmpphh…” Sanji moans around your pert bud, continued to rut his hips into you. You arch your back and sigh at the sensation of his plush lips on your breast. 
Sanji sucks hungrily at your tit as he brings his hand to knead and squeeze at your other one. 
“Mmmmph.. thank you.. so perfect…” Sanji mutters as he pulls off your breast to give the other one the same attention, a sloppy string of saliva now connecting them. Minutes went by with Sanji just desperately suckling your chest, little whimpers leaving his lips every now and then…
“Feels so good, sweet boy, so good for me…” You coo as you tug at his hair. 
“Hmmppph… fuck… thank you mommy….” Sanji groans into your chest. 
You eyes snap open. 
*Oooooh, so that’s what he’s into… you know what? That makes sense…”
It might not be something you were used to, but you were happy with providing Sanji with whatever he needed in this very moment. You pull him gently by his hair out of your breasts and look into his glassy eyes. 
“Wanna be a good boy and fuck me, Sanji?” 
“Gods, more than anything.” Sanji bolts upright and sheds himself of his shirt and sweats, long cock standing at attention. You snap out of your daze staring at Sanji’s large member and shimmy off your panties. You spread your legs wide to entice him to enter you already. Sanji hovers over you. 
“Fuck me, Sanji.” You buck your hips up at him. 
“I can’t… not yet…” 
“What?” You sit up on your elbows. 
“Gotta taste you first… smells so nice…” Sanji drops to his stomach between your legs and spreads your glistening lips with his fingers. “Fucking pretty…” Sanji sighs before diving into your cunt and attaching his lips to your clit. You yelp out in surprise and pleasure. Sanji makes out with your clit as his saliva and your slick dris down the rest of your sex, soaking your skin and the bed under you. You writhe and moan under his tongue as your feel him start to play with both of your holes with his wet thumb and forefinger. His finger teases your soaked pussy as his thumb applied pressure in circles around your tight ass, all as he slurped on your clit. You found yourself hurtling towards an explosive ending very quickly. 
“Shit, Sanji!” You cry out and grip his hair as you cum violently all over Sanji’s face. The moan he let out as you released on him might have been as loud as your own, it was filthy and pornographic. 
Sanji takes one last lick of your sex before coming back up to hover over you. 
“You’re really fucking good at that.” You laugh and wrap your arms around his neck. 
Sanji chuckles and leans down to give you a passionate kiss. The flavor of your orgasm on his lips was making your head spin. 
“Wanna fuck you now…” Sanji whispers as he pulls back from you. 
“You can fuck me baby, I wanna feel you…” 
Sanji straddles one of your legs and pulls the other to wrap around his hip, turning you slightly on your side. He wastes no time in pushing his swollen cock into your seeping hole. Sanji stutters and gasps as he bottoms out inside of you, overwhelmed at the feeling of your warm walls sucking him in so tightly. 
“Y/n… fuck…” Sanji pants and pulls out of you just slightly, admiring your slick coating his shaft already. 
“So good baby, you stretch me out so good…” You purr as you run your hand up and down his chest. 
“Shit…” Sanji pushes back in, all the way to his pelvis and grinds into you, making sure to press into your clit. He continues grinding his hips in circles against yours. 
“Yes! Just like that, so fucking good baby!” You cry out and throw your head back, this particular position had Sanji able to stimulate all of your senses. 
“A-ah- Fuck! You’re squeezing me so tight! A-are you gonna cum?” Sanji stutters as he tries to keep his pace while fucking into you. 
“Yes honey, I’m gonna cum. Keep going, make mommy cum, baby- Ah!” You cry out and your dam bursts all over Sanji’s legs and pelvis. 
“Mommy! Fuck, ah! Can’t hold it, gotta.. gotta fill you! Please!” Sanji shouts as his hips move more erratically. 
In your post orgasm daze you whisper out a short “cum in me, please” and Sanji does just so with a loud groan, surely heard by everyone on the ship. You whimper as you feel him shooting rope after rope of thick white into your womb. Once his body stopped shaking on top of you, Sanji pushed himself off and flopped down next to you in bed. 
“Y/n…” Sanji turns to you and grabs your cheek. “Thank you…” 
You shake your head. 
“Don’t thank me. I’d be doing this with your no matter what had happened. You mean so much to me…” You look up into Sanji’s blue eyes. 
“I… I don’t deserve you…” Sanji looks away. 
“Hey.” You tilt his chin up to you. “No more of that. I thought I made that very clear.” You giggle and place a quick kiss on his lips. Sanji smiles. 
“I’ll never leave you again. I promise.”
xx
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ghoastixx · 3 months
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Alastor w/ teenage human reader
A.N: gender neutral reader. You insert your name at ‘____’
Warnings: abusive parents mentioned, Alastor being a bit intimidating for a while, this is very self indulgent so yeah!
Goodness…how did the radio demon stoop so low as to be collecting human souls? Honestly what a pity..
To be honest Alastor didn’t even really know what had happened. One moment he had been drinking some tea on the balcony of the hotel, enjoying some absolutely dreary sights, and then he just.. wasn’t-
It caught him off guard to say the least. His ear laid back as his claws gripped his mic tightly. His smile never faltering.
“Holy fuck it worked!” A voice rang out, sounding astonished and a bit..too alive. Alastor’s eyes drifted down a little bit to see a child. …are you serious. He had been summoned by a child. How humiliating.
‘_____’ looked up at the demon. They had to admit, they were a lot more terrified than they would’ve liked to of been. The two just sort of looked at each other for a while before the child spoke up. Getting off of their kneeling position.
“Are you..the radio demon?” Their voice was meek and curious. It was intriguing that a child was able to do all of this. Alastor’s smile hitched up his face,
“Why yes I am! I’m assuming you’re the human that summoned me.” His smile widened when the kid tensed at his static-y voice. The radio filter never letting him down.
“W-well yeah.” They stuttered, showing vulnerability. That was going to be their first mistake. “I-“ now they were stammering, “I didn’t think it would work- honestly. I was just trying to humor myself.” Alastor was starting to get pissy, he had more important things to do than talk to a human that didn’t even know what they were doing.
“You summon a very powerful demon for fun?” His voice sounded rough, that static becoming more prominent as he got angrier.
“Well- I didn’t really think about this. This stuff doesn’t happen! I- I read a lot and of course there was that rumor going around on how to actually summon one and I just-“ the kids rambling was interrupted by a yell from downstairs. The kid winced at a thud that followed shortly after and the sound of a female voice filled with rage. The sound was almost too familiar to the radio demon.
“There wasn’t anything you wanted? Nothing at all?” He asked impatiently. When the kid sheepishly shook their head he got ready to go back to hell, but then he heard another thump which got him thinking. Why waste a trip? Perhaps there was a deal to be made here. “Say kid, why don’t we make a deal?”
“A deal..? Isn’t it frowned upon to make deals with demons? There’s like..so many songs about that.” The kid was smart, Alastor didn’t like that.
“Nonsense! I’m looking out for your best interest, little fawn. I think you’re very smart, I want to show that. If you give me your soul, let me take care of it, find me human souls, I will make sure that you do not rot in this silly little town. These people around you will not weigh you down.”
It seemed Alastor hit the nail on the head when he saw the consideration in the kids eyes. I mean- of course! A small kid who is summoning demons? In a small town? Arguing parents? Why wouldn’t they want out! And it seemed Alastor was right too, when the kid looked at the smiling demon and tensed.
“Okay. It’s a deal.”
The first time Alastor came back up to visit the soul he learned was ‘____’ he was quite impressed by the work they had done. The kid explained the type of people that would definitely be going to hell, all for the demon’s delicious picking. The first visit was strictly business.
It was the second meeting that became more personal.
‘_____’ looked up from the book they were reading, the music that they had playing softly from their radio turning staticy. They had been trying to drown out the sound of the constant screaming and whining.
“Is that a radio?” A loud static voice made ‘____’ jump. Obviously they hadn’t been expecting dear Alastor, who laughed heartily at the sudden jump.
“Damn it- scared the piss out of me-“ the fawn mumbled. Alastor thought they were like a fawn at least. Skiddish and soft. Curious. He thought it was a good comparison.
“I do apologize my dear! But please do answer, I thought radio went out of style in this day of age.”
“Well, it’s certainly not as common anymore, but it hasn’t gone completely out of style. Records have made a bigger comeback than radio.”
“How curious,” Alastor hummed, the sound of it immediately grabbing the fawn’s attention. It humored him how easily he could get the focus on him. A bang was heard on the wall with an incoherent yell, the only eligible word being “SHUT THE FUCK UP.”
‘_____’ shifted uncomfortably. It was obvious that they were trying to lose themselves in the radio. Alastor was starting to really like the little fawn, so he considered something.
Suddenly green fumes embedded themselves into the radio, making a static sound. The fawn looked up curiously,
“What did you do to my radio.”
“Patience, you’ll be able to tune into my broadcasts now. It’s only fair.”
The kid simply nodded. And they would listen to it. Because when Alastor decided to visit again for his souls, the kid would tell him it was quite morbid, but they liked the song selection.
This continued for a good while, the little fawn would tell Al about the new age for humans and Alastor would help distant the kid from their parents. If anything it boosted his ego, he felt like more of a stable figure for this kid than their own parents. And that would be put to the test when Alastor popped in only to see the little fawn curled up on the corner of their bed, so upset.
His ears flattened as his smile was forced. He couldn’t stand to see his little fawn so upset. He wasn’t sure when it became his little fawn instead of the little fawn, but he liked it better. It felt more appropriate.
“Now now, little fawn. I’m here, it’s alright.” He tried his best to console the little one.
Perhaps it was time to renegotiate their deal. Perhaps he could form this kid into a better version of themselves.
Now all he had to do was figure out how to get this kid into hell.
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smoothies-are-cool · 2 months
Text
everybody talks
boyfriend! matt sturniolo x girlfriend! reader
summary: everybody talks is matt and readers “song”. they sing it all the time together but when matt and his brothers get covid they have to quarantine so matt can’t see his girlfriend.
warnings: swearing, kissing, pet names (baby, sweetheart, handsome, beautiful), being sick??.
a/n: @worldlxvlys told me to write this one next so here it is!! this might be a stupid idea but i thought it was kinda cute
me and my boyfriend matt have been dating for a year and 5 months. on our one year anniversary we decided to hard launch our relationship. the fans were a little rocky at first but after seeing our relationship over the last 5 months, they’ve grown to really love us together.
one day when nick was live, the fans could see me and matt screaming and dancing the lyrics of ‘everybody talks’ by neon trees. that was when we told them that was our favorite song to listen to when we’re together.
me and matt hadn’t seen each other in 2 weeks due to the fact him and his 2 brothers had gotten covid. he texted me everyday, telling me how much he misses me. i obviously missed him too. going from seeing him everyday to not seeing him for 2 weeks was definitely weird.
when the friday video came out i watched it, laughing as nick turned his ipad screen around to show my boyfriend. nick and chris had both tested negative, but matt was still testing positive so he was stuck in his room for a while longer. since matt was the only one who could drive, they filmed this video in the car.
15 minutes into watching the video, matt decides to burst out into song.
“and that is when i kissed herrrr.” he sings, bopping his head. i laugh, going to look at the comments.
user: awww matt singing him and y/n’s song 🥹
user: AW IS MATT MISSING Y/N??
user: matt bursting out into song im cackling 😭
user: HELP THE FACT THAT MATT IS ALWAYS THINKING ABOUT Y/N I WANT WHAT THEY HAVE
i smile as i scroll through the comments. suddenly a wave of sadness washes over me and i miss my boyfriend more than ever. 2 weeks has been long enough. i shrug, grabbing my keys and slipping on my uggs. rushing to my car, i immediately back out of my apartment building parking lot.
10 minutes later i pull into his driveway. slamming my car door shut, i walk up the front door and knock. chris opens the door.
“hey y/n?” he says, a questioning tone in his voice. “matt’s still sick.” he tells me.
“i know. i just didn’t wanna wait any longer to see him.” i explain, waiting for him to let me in. he moves to the side and opens the door wider.
“he’s streaming right now. just so you know.” i thank chris and walk past him.
i walk right up to matt’s room, knocking on his door.
“go away.” he yells and i laugh slightly. he must’ve changed his mind because he yells a, “come in.”
i walk into his room and he’s sitting at his gaming desk, his eyes towards the door.
“hi baby.” i softly say, walking over to matt and straddling his lap. i put my legs through the holes of the chair, making it more comfortable for us. my arms go around his neck, pulling him closer to me.
“what are you doing here sweetheart, i don’t wanna get you sick.” matt tells me, hesitantly wrapping an arm around me.
“i don’t care, i just wanted to see you.” i put my head in his neck. he wraps his other arm around me, holding me tightly.
“alright guys, i got my girl with me so i’m gonna head off. thank you all for tuning in.” he tells the stream, ending it and turning off his pc.
“how are you feeling baby?” i ask him, getting off his lap and standing up.
“a little better. i probably look like shit.” he laughs slightly. i shake my head, walking closer to him so i can wrap my arms around his neck.
“that’s impossible. you always look handsome. my handsome boyfriend.” i beam and his face goes red. i slowly move my face closer to his. just as my lips were about to touch his, he pulls away.
“i don’t wanna get you sick beautiful.” he whispers, his face so close to mine i can feel his breath.
“i don’t care.” i tell him. he quickly presses my lips to his, his hands planting themselves on my hips.
“i’m glad you’re here, i missed you so much.” he smiles, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
“i missed you more.” i laugh.
“you know, people are gonna be talking about the fact that i called you sweetheart on the stream.” he points out, and i can’t help but laugh more.
“it’s okay, let them talk. everybody talks.” i tell him, smiling ear to ear.
a/n: okay hi. i didn’t know how to end this so we got that
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myouicieloz · 28 days
Text
Under the Moonlight
Ning Yizhuo x Reader
Synopsis: you and ning have been best friends ever since you could remember. but she’s been distant lately, and you can’t help but wonder where does she go to every single night.
Warnings: cnc (? maybe?). smut. nsfw.
Word count: 4.8k
Notes: I’m trying to get into darker themes for 2024. writing different prompts, challenging myself. I apologize if I it’s off putting. pls say something if it is!
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Ning Yizhuo was a good girl.
She never skipped classes, never talked back or raised her voice at elders, never missed a day of bible school, and never forgot to flicker the lights in her room whenever you were going to sleep.
Yet, she earned for more.
She was ambitious. Has always been, ever since she was a little girl. She’s had this feeling in her chest for ages, a clear warning that she was born in the wrong place: she didn’t belong in this small town, surrounded by rich fuckers that did nothing but label people and gossip all day. She was more than a close-knit community that lived off balls and charity events to make up for the fact that everyone who lived there were scrumptious, vile people. Those people did not represent herself at all.
Someday, she’d be truly free of the chains that tied her to this place.
For now, she was content enough with adjusting the helmet in her head, hopping on her bike to seek things that would make her forget about the life she lived, even if just for one night.
“And where is Mrs. Yizhuo once again, Y/n?” Your teacher’s voice echoed harshly from behind you, as you positioned your hands on the piano to start your lesson for the day.
“She’s sick, Mrs. Lee.” You straighten your posture, hoping to get more credibility. “She took many meds this morning. I think she’ll be sleeping all day to recover. I’m sorry.”
The teacher gives you a knowing look, but says nothing once you begin to practice the same songs over and over, until your fingers hurt from the repetitive movements.
You send Ningning several messages as soon as the woman looks away. She’s your best friend, of course you’d cover for her even without her asking for it. Although you don’t think she cares, anyway.
She’s been acting so different lately. Like somebody else; a different girl, different person. It was as if you didn’t know her at all.
You’ve been next-door neighbors ever since you could remember, always there for each other. That, along with the fact that your parents are part of a close-knit friend group that has been friends ever since high-school, made it easy for her to be your other half, your soulmate. Her house was right next to yours, and you’ve developed a habit of checking if her room had the lights on whenever you were anxious. Ning was your best friend, and you did everything together: from hanging out at each other’s houses to attending choir and piano lessons every single day.
That was until she changed. Suddenly, she was distant: disappearing out of nowhere, not answering any of your calls and texts all day and coming back dirty, sweaty and breathless — her hair stinking with smoke. The only thing you could rely on was the flickering of her bedroom lights, every single day when the clock hit your bedtime. You were rigid with your routine, and Ning knew that. She’s never missed it, and it comforted your heart, somehow. To know that deep inside, she was still your Ningning.
You often had to make up lies wherever you went, making up endless excuses for her absences, but at some point, it got unsustainable— she stopped showing up, without saying anything to anyone. Ning wore all black, with tight skirts and black stockings, and often had a bored look on her face, silently challenging anyone to come at her and say something.
No one ever did, obviously. People merely stared as she passed by, disdain etched on their faces.
You knew she hated living in a small city, although, you didn’t mind living so yourself. There was something comforting in knowing everyone, and oddly enough, you felt safe to feel there was always a pair of eyes watching out for you — not watching you, no. Well, people could do that, too: be excessively mean and controlling at times, but you know how to set your boundaries well. You played your part, being a former straight A student who was now attending the local university, with plans to join your step-father at the architecture company he owned, once you were done with your studies. You had been the perfect little debutant, and could always be found next to your friends or your parents at the charity events and lavish galas hosted by the community. You couldn’t say it wasn’t suffocating at times, but it wasn’t like you completely hated it.
Clearly, you were unable to say the same for Ningning. What had stirred this change inside of her? Your chest burned every time you thought about it, eager to know. You yearned to be a part of her life again, yet a small part of your brain was too afraid to ask her about it, knowing she’d answer you wholeheartedly.
You hated the change. You missed your best friend too much. You missed the old her.
The Ning who would flick her lights to let you know she was there, whenever it was time for you to go to sleep. The Ning who let you cry on her shoulder for hours at your grandfather’s funeral. The Ning who would attend the school games to see you cheer, who stood by your side when your dad left, and who washed all of your fears away when your mother remarried.
That was your soulmate; the Ningning who was always there for you. Not the reckless girl with a blank face who didn’t seem to care about a single thing.
Although, you were beginning to think you did not know her at all.
“Can I come?” You ask, trying to suppress a shiver as the wind blows cold against your body. It had certainly not been the best idea to wear a white, short dress with even tinier undershorts and boots in autumn, but you couldn’t think about anything else to put on.
With only a leather jacket to warm off your body, your eyeliner, smudged, dark makeup and heavy jewelry mirrored the girl standing in front of you, and you can’t help but smile.
You’d fit in well.
“Excuse me?” Ningning exclaims, frowning in disbelief.
“I want to come with you.” You repeat yourself, holding your own hands nervously. “You’ve changed, Ning. I’m not stupid… I just want to understand. Would you show it to me, please?”
You hate the way she’s looking at you, like she’s still deciding whether to allow yourself into her new world. You also hate the way your voice cracks, always vulnerable when it comes to her.
After minutes of staring, Ning decides to give you a chance. Shrugging, she leaves you alone on the sidewalk as she returns to her garage, shoving a helmet into your chest.
“Fine. But say anything funny, and I’ll leave you there alone. Got it?” You nod, trying not to feel hurt by her indifference towards you.
After a few clumsy attempts, you manage to hop in on her fancy bicycle, hands trapped tightly on her thin waist. You often spied on Ning going out with a dark motorbike you were sure her parents hadn’t bought her. However, as the two of you go at full speed through the night, you feel like you understand her a little better: it’s so freeing, to just ride on the freeway as the wind messes up your hair. You laugh, hugging her tighter, the only thought crippling your mind being over how beautiful the moon looked in the cloudless night, alone in all its glory.
Before you register, Ningning parks her bike carefully. If not for the fact that the place was absolutely crowded, you wouldn’t be able to tell this was the place she’s been sneaking out too frequently. It’s simple: just many cars parked in a circle, occupying the large freeway as people stand against them like ants. You guess someone must’ve blocked the way so no unwanted cars would drive by, but that was a lucky guess.
Nevertheless, you’re struck by a sudden heat wave — being surrounded by a fairly large, energetic crowd was enough for you to feel your face getting warmer, much to your liking. The atmosphere was lively, electricity hanging in the air almost palpably. It was as if everyone were anticipating, waiting for something, and you were nearly sure Ning was involved in that.
“There.” She motions to the right area of the crowd, waving to someone unknown to you. “Let’s go.”
You try to act cool as she grabs your hand to guide you through the crowd, failing terribly. The truth is, it’s been months since she’s talked to you, touched you properly. Perhaps you missed Ningning much more than you could admit, judging by the serotonin boost you’d gotten by a mere touch from her.
Ning stops in front of a black Dodge, where three girls stand with bored looks. They’re all wearing black and red, in some sort of subtle color coordination. You notice Ning’s outfit follows the theme, too, her crimson crop top standing out from her black pants and leather jacket.
“You’re late, Ningning.” Giselle says, not bothering to look at you as she chews on her gum, hands brushing her hair ever so flawlessly. She’s beautiful — they all are, and there’s something in the way they pose; as if they’re royalty around the place.
“Hello to you too, Gigi.” Ning answers her, not affected by her dismissal in the slightest. Your best friend gestures to the other girls, then, giving your hand a squeeze. Even though it wasn’t needed anymore, she was still holding on to you. “Those are Karina and Winter.” They bow slightly, acknowledging your presence. “Girls, this is Y/n”.
The trio share a knowing look at the mention of your name. As if a spell had been cast upon them, the girls are all over you, swirling, giggling and speaking all at once.
“It was about time we met you, Y/n”. Winter giggles, resting her head on Karina’s shoulder.
“Right?” Giselle shakes her head, suddenly interested in the conversation, with her condescending tone. “Took Ningning long enough to bring you to the Underworld.”
The Underworld. The name alone is enough for you to shiver, shrinking under your oversized jacket. Like a reflex, you turn to your best friend, brows furrowed and mind seeking for answers. “The Underworld?”
As soon as she opens her mouth to explain, she’s dragged away by Karina, who sighs. “Tell her all about it later, Ningning. Giselle was right, you really are late, and we have to enroll you in today’s race right now.”
Ning stares at Winter with a serious look, waiting until the bob-haired girl nods to leave. “Take care of her while I’m gone.” Shooting you an apologetic look, Ning follows Karina to the heart of the crowd, not at all uncomfortable as you lose her amidst the sea of unknown faces.
You’ve been warned about such places before, ones where people go to lose themselves and do things they shouldn’t. Even though it’s dark, you’re able to see what every group is occupying themselves with, always good to notice details in a crowd. Some drinking, smoking, others doing drugs that were too explicit for such an open space. Many people acted borderline pornographic, too, engaged in heavy make out sessions and touching places that had you looking away, too embarrassed to lurk.
“I’ll go breathe some air.” You tell Winter, who’s now sitting on the hood of the car, furiously typing on a computer as big as her head. She must’ve grabbed it from the passenger’s seat while you were busy looking around, horrified.
You expect her to protest, specially since Ning had been clear in her words, but the small girl doesn’t even look at you for more than three seconds before answering, still heavily focused on the screen that lights her face. “Okay.”
Before she’s even finished, you turn around and dodge people as best as you can, barging towards the woods located on the edge of the road without hesitation. You walk until the lively event is just a faint noise, crippling your ears like a bug on a hot, sticky day.
Now, being able to breathe the cold air of the night properly and free from the demons of the night, you try to understand your best friend. Ning has always been a free spirit, independent and strong-willed. But, while her wild nature did stir up some trouble in your community, she’s always been welcomed and loved. That’s how a family worked, right? You might fight, but you also sort things out, eventually.
The sound of dry leafs being stepped on startles you, but you’re soon at ease once you see Ningning’s silhouette coming out of the darkness. She sits by your side, both looking at the moon instead of facing each other.
She must be afraid too, you reckon. Of you judging her choices, turning your back on her like her family did, the moment she changed her attitude.
Well, you did judge, but you’d never leave her alone. You love her too much to do so, even if you couldn’t quite understand her ulterior motives.
Ning looks beautiful under the moonlight, her long hair shiny as she plays with her own fingers, hesitant to speak up. Her hair is one of the last things she’s kept true to herself after this sudden change. You let your hands run through, reminiscing the times when, not matter how impatient, she’d let you comb and style it.
Such memories must’ve been going through her mind, too, in a reassurance of the bond you shared. Gathering courage, she turned her face to you, smiling faintly.
“Illegal fights and street races. That’s what we do here in the underworld, that’s what it’s about.” Ning keeps you from interrupting her, already aware of what you’re going to ask. “I’ve seen people do some darker shit, yeah, like drugs and stuff, but the girls and I stay far away from that. It’s not something you can deal with without falling into a hole, you know. And I’m not trying to dig myself a grave or anything.”
You breathe in deeply, acknowledging everything she’s said. It’s like you’re walking on thin ice: one phrase worded wrongly, and she’d shut herself off from you for good.
So you choose the safest route. “And… the girls? You, hm, you all race?”
Ning relaxes instantly at your words. Her shoulders fall off, glad you didn’t start screaming at her or trying to brainwash her guts. She expected a far worse reaction.
Shaking her head, her tone is a little more excited as she answers. “I’m the only racer of the group. Giselle fixes the mechanics, Winter does the stats, and Karina handles the bets and closes off the deals. They are my girls, Y/n. My family.”
You stand up, unconsciously walking around in little circles as you tried to think of the right words to not scare off your best friend. The truth is, this whole Underworld thing was not only scary — it terrified you to know Ning had found herself in such a place. She needed to think through all of this situation, and realize she was losing herself badly, walking into a path set for destruction. She needed help, and she so desperately needed to come to her true senses. You had to save Ning from herself, and you’d do just that.
“We’ll take you back.” The words come out without you really thinking through, not at all as careful as you wish to be. You turn around completely to face Ning, only to find her already staring, her big eyes as cloudy as ever. “We know you’re sorry, Ning, it’s ok. Just… let us go back, then it will all be just like before.”
She lifts her brows, and she takes a few steps towards you, not stopping until you’re trapped, back hitting the trunk of a tree.
“I’m not sorry for what I’ve done, Y/n.” She’s angry, and you hate seeing her mad. Specially at you. Ning never got mad at you. “I’m sorry that we were born in this shitty ass town with so many rich fuckers, and I’m sorry that stupid community has brainwashed you so much they can control you as they please. I apologize for being distant because I know it hurts you, but besides that, I’ve done nothing wrong.”
She’s breathless from speaking with such fervor, both of her hands placed on each of your sides so you have no way of escaping.
And even though you gulp, you force your body to not have any fear. It’s Ningning: your best friend, your soulmate. She’d never hurt you.
She’d never.
“Ning.” You look down, failing to hide the tremor in your voice. “Ning, let me go.”
Something in her eyes shift the moment she noticed the fear in your voice. Her pupils are wide blown, and her smile is just wrong, staring at you from head to toe. Suddenly, you’re hyper aware of the wind messing with your very short dress, and how hot you feel, despite the cool weather.
Somehow, you get the feeling she’s thinking the same thing, too. Time stops as her eyes fall to your lips, and she’s on top of you in a blink. Kissing, tugging, licking… Ning’s desperation is something you can taste, and it’s written all over. This kiss is not like the sweet, chaste experiences you’ve had before. Ning kisses you like a woman starved, taking until there’s no air left, and your lungs are burning, claiming for relief.
Her kiss is venomous, so sinful you fear what you’d do if you experience it again.
“W-what the fuck, Ning! Why’d you do that?” You manage to say, crossing your arms over your chest to try to get some distance between you. “This wrong, Ning. This isn’t y—“
“Did they send you here?” She ignores your words completely, hands assaulting your body as you move against her. “Is that it? Are they that fucking desperate, really?”
Perhaps you’re weak, maybe she’s been putting some work in the gym, but the truth is she doesn’t move an inch, no matter how much try to pull her away. If anything, it only brings her closer to you, that wicked smirk still on her face.
“What? They… no! Of course not. I came because I want to understand you.” Her accusations hurt, even though you know she’s not entirely wrong. The truth is, Ning’s too smart for her own good.
Surprisingly, her fingers are delicate as they brush one of your shoulders, playing with your dress sleeve before letting it slide midway, enough for it to expose yourself to the dark night. You shiver, not only due to the winds that cause your nipples to harden, but also because of the girl who stares at you like a woman starved. She’s salivating, and you watch her every breath until she lowers her head and latches her mouth onto one of your boobs, her teeth teasingly picking on your nipples.
It’s as if you’ve been electrocuted. Your back arches, and you try even harder to let go of the hand that’s keeping yours clasped together so tightly it hurts, but you can’t set yourself free. Did her touches always feel like that? So wrong, yet so… good, you look forward to more?
“Stop, p-please. Ning, my b-boyfriend…” It’s all you’re able to mutter, choosing to keep your mouth shut. You’re too afraid of the sounds that might come out of your lips if you continue speaking.
You’ve never felt like this before. This tingling sensation, erupting to all your body — specially to your core. The warmth that eloped your body like you were too close to the sun. It felt good, Ning’s touches are so good you _itch_ with need.
It’s no surprise you’ve touched yourself before. You were no saint, either. However, it has never felt anything close to that. You would never be able to mimic Ning’s hands, cupping your breasts, pinching your waist, forcefully opening your legs to keep her knee seated between them… all while still trapping you, the burning sensation in your hands serving as a lively reminder of the situation you were currently in.
“Your boyfriend, yes. That fucking idiot.” Ning’s hands go straight to the hem of your shorts, forcing them down. “He’s never touched you like that, right Y/nnie? Surely, you’d tell me. I’m your best friend, after all.”
Tears start to cloud your vision as her hands pull down your shorts, fingers going all the way under your dress to find the bare skin of your abdomen. She scratches it slightly, even though you find yourself still struggling vigorously against her touches.
“Ning, you don’t know what you’re doing. I’m sorry, please s-stop…” Ning huffs, annoyed by your attempts to get her off you.
“No, Y/n. I know exactly what I’m doing.” She laughs as her teeth scratch your shoulder, and then she bites. It’s so unexpected you scream, ashamed to admit that her harsh touches are the reason your insides are embarrassingly wet. “I bet you’ve touched yourself thinking of me, too. God, Y/n. You act like you’re this good little example to others, but I know you better than anyone. You’re such a dirty, hungry whore.”
Ning’s salivating, her wet mouth leaving a trail of saliva on your skin as you stop moving against her chest. Instead, you let your head rest on the corner of her neck, biting your mouth so hard you feel the metallic taste of blood in your tongue. Ning notices it, too — her eyes have never stopped observing you attentively, not from the moment she’s met you for the first time. Grabbing your neck possessively, she pulls you in for another hungry, aggressive kiss, her tongue forcing its way over your mouth until your taste was all hers to delight herself with, too.
Without an alibi to hide your pleasure, you moan against her lips, chest moving rapidly with the adrenaline. You feel her smile, too.
This doesn't seem right, in any way. Your best friend, forcing you to surrender against her wishes and talking to you like you were nothing… it is all wrong, deeply wrong.
But why is she making you feel so alive? Why is the burning sensation that expands over every inch of your skin so addicting?
If it’s so wrong, why does it feel so good?
“Does he touch you like this?” Ning asks with a sultry tone, as her fingers toy with your folds. The anticipation drives you insane, only intensifying your arousal. You gasp at the sensation of her fingers in your cunt, hovering and so close to where you need her. Your silence irritates her, clearly. “Answer me, whore.”
Her hands, God — her hands leave your cunt so quickly and reach out for your throat, squeezing on your pulse point with such precision you nearly cum on the spot. You feel lightheaded, unable to think about anything but how alive Ning makes you feel. In fact, it’s her touches that ground you again, reminding you of what is happening.
She kisses your jaw, her tone dripping with fake-sweetness as she murmurs. “Tell me what I already know, Y/n. Say it.”
With that, you’re aware of your current situation: Ning’s getting inside your head, distracting you with pleasure until you’re dumbed down enough to surrender to her wishes.
When did she become so evil?
“Stop— touching me.” You say, turning your head away from her. Still, you can’t help but obey, even though your voice is barely audible as you add. “You know the answer, already.”
Ning’s hand slides through your body, taking her time to grope, scratch and pinch as she pleases until she’s cupping your cunt again, her motion too sweet for the harsh way she’s been acting towards you. Two of her fingers go to your slit, taking all the air from your longs as she shoves them in and out slowly, savoring the sensation both for herself and for you. And you’re _wet_ — so much her fingers slide easily, despite your lack of experience. It’s as though time had stopped: the animals have stopped making noises, the wind has stopped humming and all the people at the street have quieted. All you can hear is Ning’s breathing, just as erratic as you, and the lewd sounds coming out from your cunt.
It feels so good, you wonder how you've lived all this time without Ningning touching you like that. Like you were a secret gemstone she was more than ready to unravel.
“If you want me to stop touching you, then why are you so fucking wet?” She asks, cocky as you whimper under her. Your legs feel like jelly, and suddenly you’re so glad for the tree you’re relying on, and Ning’s leg between your thighs, forcing them open. “No, Y/n. You know damn well what you want. You’re just too stubborn to admit it.” Her following words are what break you. As your thumb meets your clit, she adds, “You’re as rotten as me, filthy girl. I just choose not to run from myself anymore.”
You want to deny it. There’s nothing more you want than to pull Ning back and scream at her face, talking about how insufferable she’s become and how much of an asshole she was. But your brain has long been turned into mush, focused on only one thing: gathering the crippling sensation that was forming in your lower abdomen and let it explode, turning it into a mind-blowing wave of pleasure. It’s all you’ve ever wanted: to cum. Nothing else really matters.
You don’t even recognize yourself, clinging onto Ning as if your life depended on it. Her skilled fingers don’t stop their motion on your slit as her thumb applies more pressure to your clit, circling it harshly, so fast it makes your eyes roll to the back of your skull with pleasure. It feels unlike anything you’ve ever felt before: every inch of your body boils, and you’ve never wanted so bad to just explode.
Faint screams fill the background, with Ning’s name being called repeatedly, surely from the girls looking for her. However, you don’t pay them any mind. The only sounds coming out of your mouth are loud, sinful moans — the most beautiful melody to Ning’s ears.
“N-ning…” You whine, carving your nails onto your best friend’s skin. Sweat gathers in your forehead as you feel your orgasm close, but you’re too stubborn to say anything to her.
Ning knows you well, though. Your muscles tense, and you cum as she keeps her strokes hard and fast, just what you need to explode into waves of pleasure. It hits so good you scream, legs shaking as she holds you as if you weight nothing, keeping you from falling onto the dust. White dots dance around your vision, fireworks exploding inside you as the orgasm washes through your body, in rhythmic waves of pleasure.
It was borderline addicting.
“Ningning! There you are, fucker. We’ve been looking for ages.” Karina’s body appears from the darkness, her impeccable frame easy to distinguish from anything else. You’re so fucked out it takes you a few seconds to register her presence; by then, Ning has already covered you, adjusting your dress back on with precise movements. “Don’t be irresponsible just because of some pussy, dude! You’re up in five, come on.”
You don’t miss the way Karina’s eyes stare at your body, not an ounce of shame in her pretty face. However, you don’t feel ashamed to have her attention on you. If anything, you can feel your face blushing, your body slowly feeling hot again.
Lust is a dangerous thing, indeed.
Ning doesn’t miss Karina’s cue either, judging by the way she scoffs. Dismissing her with an annoyed tone, Ning mutters, “I said I was coming.” She gestures to the trees and the wild bushes, then. “You can lead the way.”
Karina laughs, not missing her last opportunity to address you, as she turns around and waves. “Bye, Y/n. I hope you’re around more often.”
You giggle, too, amazed by how she camouflages herself so easily, lost amidst the night and the forest.
Still, the girl in front of you captures all of your attention. Like always, she’s already staring, her brown hair messy from your making out.
“This is the real world, Y/n. I’m not going back.” She says, not leaving any space for discussion. You know that tone too well; Ning’s already made her choice, and it wasn’t the one you wanted her to pick. With big, sad eyes, she adds, “I wish you would free yourself, too.”
Her delicate tone breaks your heart. Deep down, you know she means it. Ning’s following what she believes in, and she wishes she could share her world with you, too.
She walks away without looking back, sure of who she was and what she wanted for her future.
With a heavy sigh, you follow her towards the highway once again.
You’d follow her through it all.
385 notes · View notes
letstripdotcom · 3 months
Text
shut up my moms calling- chris sturniolo x fem!reader
a/n i love naming my fics after songs bc then i listen to them on replay while i write.
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summary- coming home from college means seeing the kid you’ve hated most your whole life. chris sturniolo. you’ve hated everything about his existence since the beginning of 6th grade when you transferred to somerville. the summer after your freshman year of college is when everything starts to change.
warnings- long(ish) smut ofc, mention of toxic relationship, choking, pet names (princess, baby, pretty girl) overstimulation {i think that’s all!}
-
6th grade
i just moved from oklahoma to a small town outside of boston called somerville. it was my first day of 6th grade and i was everything but excited to go. i had a good amount of friends in oklahoma, and absolutely none in massachusetts. if it were up to me i would have stayed, but i had no choice because my mom got offered better work down here.
i walked into the crowded classroom with my schedule in hand. “is this mrs sawyers class?” i ask quietly. “yes it is, and you must be y/n?” she looks up at me through her glasses. “y-yes” i utter nervously. “nice to meet you, have a seat wherever” I walk to a more empty side of the classroom and take a seat.
“newww girlll” i voice calls out in a mocking tone when i sit down. when i look up i lock eyes with a boy with short brown hair. hes sat with his 2 triplet brothers and another one of their friends. “yeah?” i say quietly. he starts immediately attacking me with questions
“where are you from? why are you here? what school did you go to last? did you have friends” i’m overwhelmed as questions pour out of his mouth. “chris you’re freaking her out” his brother says. “i’m nick.” he smiles at me. “that’s chris, obviously, and that’s matt”
“hey nice to meet you” the third one says. “oh and that’s nate.” nick says. i nod my head looking at the 4 boys. “i’m y/n” i say. “y/n?” chris says under his breath almost inaudible. “excuse me?” i say turning my head to look at him. “what nothing.” he tries to play it off
“who decided on the name y/n, your mom or your dad?” chris asks with a disgusted but confused look on his face. “it was my mom’s best friend’s name before she passed.” i explained. “tough” he muttered. the whole rest of the class period was filled with his snarky remarks and questions.
over time, as i got closer to matt and nick, the snarky remarks from chris turned into full on arguments. anything i would say would lead to chris having something else to say. i could tell him my head hurts and he would say something along the lines of “maybe if you wouldn’t think so hard about what to say and just shut the fuck up for once that wound be a problem.” i would just roll my eyes and go back to talking to nick
-
this behavior lasted all the way through senior year of high school. i stayed close with nick and matt, which means i was stuck with chris. we got in several heated arguments over the years and they all led to me leaving the triplets house at 2 in the morning because i couldn’t physically be around chris.
our last big fight was the weekend before i left for college. nick wanted to host a small party of about 15 friends for me since i wouldn’t be seeing him again til the summer. we were setting up the decorations and chris was being extra annoying.
“chris can you actually help out and stop acting like a fucking toddler.” i snapped at him while he stood under me watching me hang up a banner. “maybe if you weren’t nagging at me every 30 seconds.” he complained. “i wouldn’t be nagging if you wouldn’t stand in my way instead of actually contributing to anything in this world” i yelled, stepping off the ladder as i finished hanging the banner.
“you act like i wanna do this party. i don’t give a fuck about you.” he spat “i might not even show up tonight because you’ve been a bitch all day long!” my heart dropped and i felt a lump form in my throat. bitch? me and chris never got along but he never called me a bitch
he knew how much i hated it because of a past relationship i had. during junior year, i was in a super toxic relationship with a kid from our school. i was so naive i had thought he had actually liked me but it turns out i was wrong. we would constantly argue and he would gaslight me into forgiving him.
i stared at chris blankly as tears formed in my eyes. “y/n i-“ “fuck you chris.” i cut him off “and yeah i think it’s best you don’t show up tonight.” i ran upstairs to the bathroom and wiped away my tears. i checked in the mirror and adjusted myself before going back down.
-
present day
i hung up the phone with nick and got in my car. i was on my way home from college for the summer, and i finally got to see my best friend. he’s so excited that he rented out a cabin by the lake for a whole week to celebrate. i haven’t seen any of the triplets since i left, i haven’t seen chris since before the party. chris. my stomach dropped and my heart started pounding when the realization hit that i would be seeing chris.
i didn’t want to see him at all. nick said he changed a lot, and maybe he did, but you can never be too sure. and he did change a lot physically. chris was much more attractive then he was in highschool, not that he’s ever been unattractive, other than his personality.
about a few hours later i called nick to tell him i was close to the cabin. i pulled in and nick darted outside. “omgggg it’s been forever” i squealed as i got out of my car. “you have to see the place!” he grabbed my wrist and pulled me to the back of the house. “there’s a hot tub, a massive pool and all of this space.” he gawked at the house. we went inside as he gave me a tour of the house. “this is your room!” he announced pointing inside.
i looked around and it was absolutely beautiful. “thank you so much nick this is amazing” i hugged him. “don’t thank me too much” he said “i had to put you in the room across the hall from chris, i hope you don’t mind because i’ll work something out”
“no that’s totally fine, i’ll just pretend he isn’t even here” i smiled. he smiled back “okay i’ll be downstairs getting everything ready bc we’re gonna have movie night tonight just like high school.” he said as he left my room.
after i got settled in, i took a shower. i picked out my pajamas which was just a big t shirt and shorts and i headed down stairs happily. “there she is!” matt exclaimed, giving me a hug. “matt i missed you so much!” i said hugging him back
after i pulled away, i made eye contact with chris, who was glaring at me and matt. i shot him a calm smile and looked away. wow chris got really hot. you thought to yourself. no, chris is awful. but i couldn’t help but notice his fluffy hair and his defined jawline.
i noticed his sun kissed face, which made his freckles stand out. god i could only imagine what he looked like with my leg- no. remember what chris said to you. i snapped myself out of my thoughts and sat by nick on the the couch. he handed me a blanket and i cuddled up next to him and focused my eyes on the screen
my focus only lasted for about 30 seconds before my mind was back on chris. why hasn’t he spoke to me? because he hates me. duh. i wonder what he’s thinking right now. why am i so worried about chris? “you okay?” nick asks from beside me. “yeah i’m fine” i say in a convincing reassuring tone.
after the movie ends, i say goodnight and i head up to my room. i get situated in my bed, and i try to fall asleep but i can’t. my mind is flooded with thoughts of chris, and the next thing i know my hand is down my pants. what has happened to me?
this is chris sturniolo, the kid who’s bullied me for 7 years. i never imagined i would be getting off to the thought of him at 2 in the morning. i need to go to bed, but i physically can’t.
i get up out of bed and dig through my bags. i grab my pink swim suit and put it on. a get a towel from my bathroom and quietly head down stairs. i go out the back door and get in the hot tub. i zone out and try to find peace of mind.
i sit there with my eyes closed until i hear someone else getting in the water. i open my eyes, only to see chris. great. this is exactly what i need right now. “look y/n” his voice breaks me out of my thoughts. “i’m really sorry for the way i’ve treated you, you didn’t deserve any of it. but, we’re older now so i wanna put the past in the past”
“i forgive you” i say flatly. “really?” he seems genuinely shocked. “can i kiss you?” i asked immediately regretting what i said. “what?” is all he says before i grab my towel and run inside.
i lay on my bed for a split second before i hear a knock. i know it’s chris, but i still go to the door and answer it. i look up at him with a guilty look on my face. before i speak he’s slamming his face into mine.
he kisses me very passionately like he’s been waiting is whole life. he pushes me into my room and shuts the door behind us. he turns me and pushes me against is as he kisses me harder. one of his hands come up and squeeze my neck slightly
i moan into his mouth causing him to squeeze harder. i moan again growing super wet between my legs. one of my hands come up to tug on his hair, while the other one makes its way up his shirt.
with one hand still around my neck, he guides me over to my bed and lays me down flat as he climbs on top of me. “can i?” he asks, toying with the strap of my top. “pls chris” i whine. he unties my top and yanks it off, his mouth immediately meeting my nipple, his available hand massaging my other breast.
i throw my head back and moan as he does whatever he wants. next thing i know, his hand is coming off my throat, and down my body. he stops abt my bottoms before looking at me for confirmation. i nod desperately. his cold hands slip into my bottoms as his fingers meet my clit.
i’m a moaning mess at this point, begging for whatever contact i can get. “god you’re fucking soaked.” he says, his voice raspy and quiet. “fuck chris please touch me.” i beg “whatever you want princess” he says before putting his ring and middle finger inside of me. he quickly pumps in and out for a few seconds before i cut him of. “chris wait” i say
“are you okay did i do something wrong?” he questions. “no but i have an idea.” i tell him. i then instruct him to lay on his back and put his head on the pillow. i watch as he does what i say. once he’s situated i ask him “can i sit on your face?”
i laughed a little inside about how innocent it sounded. “of course princess” he says. i make my way closer to him as i put my legs on either side of his head. i slightly lower myself down, enough to make contact.
my legs shake as i try to hold myself up while he eats me. he lifts me up a little and says “don’t be shy baby, suffocate me.” he grips my waist harder as he pulls me down all the way onto his face. my back arches at the contact.
chris eats me like i was his last meal, i grip the headboard, and struggle to stay quiet while his nose rubs my clit. “chris i’m g-gonna cum” i whine. one of his hands come off my waist and grabs my ass, massaging it. my legs squeeze his head. and i moan uncontrollably as i release all over his face.
after i come down from my high, i get off and straddle his waist. i lean down and kiss him, tasting myself. i grind on his hard on while we kiss, making him grunt. i reach my hand down and palm his boxers as his body twitches.
i go for the band of his swim shorts and slowly pull them down, exposing his hard dick. i look him in the eyes, to get his consent “y/n please” is all i need to hear before i slowly stroke him. he moans and tosses his head back
after a few more strokes, i sit up and line myself up with him. i slowly lower myself onto him, wincing at his size as i feel him in me. once i’m fully sat, i sit still for a minute to adjust. once i’m ready i start bouncing up and down. he puts one hand on my waist to guide me, as the other one makes it way to mu sensitive clit.
“ughh chris don’t stop” i whine as i ride him. my words make him rub my clit even faster than before. my eyes are now practically stuck in the back of my head as i moan out for him. when i’m about to finish, i clench around him, making his mouth fall open. i come all over him, as he helps me through my high
“good job princess.” he grunts i keep riding him until i feel him twitch. “you feel so good pretty girl. i’m almost there.” i clench again, becoming slightly overstimulated. just then he releases, inside of me. after he comes down i slide off and plop on my bed.
“you okay princess?” he asks with concern “overstimulated” is all i can bring myself to mutter. chris picks me up and lays me in a more comfortable spot on the bed. he then heads to my bathroom and comes back with a towel. he helps clean me off before he finds the shorts and shirt i had on earlier.
he helps me put them on, then he puts his shorts on and goes to his room. i feel sad in that moment. how could he to all of that just to leave? just then he enters my room with pajama pants on. “don’t worry i’m not going anywhere.” he whispers as he crawls into bed with me.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••
a/n: kinda love this what do u think?
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fieldofdaisiies · 4 months
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Icarus Has Fallen
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paring: Azriel x Reader | type: fluff | words: 5,4k | warnings: none playlist: can't help falling in love | la vie en rose | moving along | my heart will go on | I think I’m in love | you and I enchanted; this story is dedicated to two of the most amazing people on this app @brekkershadowsinger @moonlightazriel thank you for all your help and support and love (now you know why I asked for the songs)💛
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Icarus has fallen.
It was the sun that made Icarus fall, and it is a female as bright and beautiful as daylight that made Azriel fall. In love. 
Deeply. Head over heels. No ground in sight.
He has never expected this sort of feeling. Not after Mor. Not after Elain. 
But the first moment he lays eyes on you, the second he spots you, splashing around in the large marble mountain in front of the castle Azriel is gone. His gaze remains fixed on you all the way to the castle, not once averting his eyes. His is so focused on the sort of beauty he has never ever seen before, he doesn’t even realise that Cassian is talking to him. He doesn’t register what Rhysand answers, or what his High Lady adds. Everything around him fades into insignificance, becoming absolutely unimportant. There is only one thing on his mind - only one thing he can focus on and that is you and figuring out a way to get to know you. To learn your name. To find out who exactly you are. 
He is only ripped out of his gazing by a deep male voice greeting the High Lord of Night and his entourage, including Azriel. He has to shake his head, his shadows calming a little around his shoulders.
"Welcome to the Day Court,“ Helion greets, his toga flowing around his strong thighs, his arms spread wide to welcome the visitors from Night to his court. Bowing their heads, they return the greeting and fall in line with the High Lord of Day who lets a casual eye run over each of them. "Where is Morrison?" he asks, his voice tinged with genuine curiosity, but also a hint of amusement. In the past, this question would have enraged Azriel. Not anymore. Not for a long time. He knows that Mor and him…there would never be anything between them. He knows this now. 
Rhys answers him that she has business to deal with, and couldn't manage to come here. Helion accepts this answer with a smile and says, "Please, follow me. Allow me to show you my throne room where the discussions will be held."
Azriel’s gaze, one last time, moves over his shoulder, craning his neck quite a bit to catch one last look at you. You are engage in happy chatter with who he guesses are your friends, hair and the thin white gown that is damp from the water, leaving absolutely nothing to imagination. His breath catches and—
"If you keep staring any longer, you might break your neck, Azzy.“ Cassian fetches his best friend back to reality, nudging him playfully in the ribs and colour blooms high on the shadowsinger’s cheeks when he meets the general’s gaze. "Wh-at?" he stammers, trying to pretend he wasn’t doing anything, but obviously Cassian isn’t stupid and sees right through his bluffing.
"I wasn’t staring," Azriel growls, his forehead lying in furrows.
"I am only teasing you, Az,! Cassian adds when he watches Azriel’s expression, the cold and indifference creeping back into his features. The general chuckles and returns his gaze to his own mate, his large hand holding Nesta’s tightly. "But you totally were."
Azriel tries to ignore his friend, shaking his head slightly, shoulders squared, posture straight as he follows the others into the big throne room of the Day Court castle. He wasn't staring. He was…observing. 
Everyone gathers around a large class table, the meeting starting a moment after, but Azriel is unfocused. Helion says something about Koschei, Azriel thinks. His High Lord adds something, and so does his High Lady. But his brain doesn't allow him to participate. Or is it is heart?
Yes, he found females attractive in the past. Many females. But it has always been different. He has never been so enthralled, so enchanted by someone he hasn’t even properly met. He has only seen you for a few minutes and—
"Tell Lady Y/N to come here. She should bring the Book of Death Gods and Dark Forces.“ Helion waves of his sentry and then focuses back on the conversation with Rhys. 
Azriel swallows thickly, the name, it has struck a cord in his heart. It sounds oddly familiar and he has no idea why. Like his heart has heard it before, remembers it, almost like it evokes memories deep within him… Within his soul.
The discussions continue, Azriel contributes with the occasional dip of his chin. He can’t focus, his mind is too…he doesn’t actually know. But somehow, seeing you, has pulled a lever in his head. In his heart. In his soul and focusing on anything else then the sudden pull he feels in his chest becomes a sheer impossibility. He has never felt this tug before…it is a wholly new feeling that renders him dumb. 
But he has to focus. This is important. Not only for the Night Court but for all of Pythian. 
Azriel brings up a hand and folds it over his chin, trying to listen in, his shadows perched on his shoulders, gathering information. 
"So what we know about Koschei is very little, but I truly hope that the ancient book in my possession can give us more answers.! Helion releases a loud sigh, his expression concentrated, posture rather stiff. He shakes his head, swirling pits of worry in his eyes.
He leans back in his chair and turns his head, acknowledging movement at the threshold. He lifts his gaze, "Ah!" he says, and waves you in with two of his fingers. "Come in, my lady."
Azriel, simultaneously to the High Lord of Day, focuses his gaze on the female figure appearing in the door - hair still damp, but the dress a new one. A dry one. 
His breath catches, heart skipping one or the other beat and if he hadn’t been sitting down he knows his knees would have given in right in this moment. 
As you enter the throne room, your curious eyes scan the room, taking the people gathered there. You curtsey to not only greet your High Lord but also his guests. His guests from the Night Court. Your gaze eventually settles on Helion, the High Lord of Day Court, engaged in conversation with Rhysand, High Lord of the Night, the opposite solar court to your own. 
Next to him is his High Lady, Feyre Archeron, the first High Lady Pythian has ever seen. She smiles at you, polite and kind, and you dip your chin at her. And next to her…you find a male, his beauty not comparable to any you have ever seen before. He is the most beautiful male that exists in all of Pythian, you know this, and you are captured by him. His expression is cold and indifferent, but his eyes of hazel, sparkle when they meet yours. His composed demeanour seems to falter as his eyes lock with yours.
For a fleeting moment, time seems to stand still. Azriel is struck by your presence—your grace, your elegance, your beauty, your brightness. Could you be the light to his darkness, the sun in his endless gloomy days. 
He's at a loss for words, captivated by you. It's as if the world around him dims, leaving only you illuminated in his vision. You are sunshine, and life.
You want to look away, focus on the task at hands - delivering the book, but you can’t. Your heart starts to sing inside of you, begging you to draw nearer to the shadowy male, to ask for his name, to get to know him, to—
"Lady Y/N, thank you so much for coming,“ Helion reaches out his hand. "I see you brought the book I requested.“
Your footsteps echo on the marble floor in the throne room as you approach your High Lord, finally averting your gaze form the beautiful male, holding the Book of Death Gods and Dark Forces in your shaky hands. He holds out his hand for the book, his attention momentarily drawn away from the discussion at hand. "Meet my guests, Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court and his High Lady, Feyre Archeron. Joining them, Azriel, and Cassian, the two best Illyrian warriors that there are.“
You smile politely, trying to greet each person again with the bow of your head. "It's my pleasure," you says, and then claim the seat on Helion's left, helping him open the large book and find the right page and then you start to read together, helping Helion and Rhysand filter out the important information (you are after all one of the head scholars of the Day Court, your wisdom and knowledge big). 
Azriel’s gaze lingers on you. Gods, you are so stunning, he barely knows how to keep his breathing steady, how to avoid the constant subtle glances into your direction - those stolen glances every now and then that make his heart beat faster. 
He wants to meet your gaze, accidentally, not make it too obvious he is staring. But you never deign him another glance, not once you look at him again, fully focused on the task at hand - going through the large book and some extra piles of parchment. Some other scholars, both young and old, have joined in as well, searching for any kind of important information. 
Over time sentries deliver more books and papers, all splayed out over the table until nothing of the glass was visible anymore. Your delicate fingers traces over the written words and every now and then you bring a hand up to brush back a loose strand of hair that has fallen over your shoulder.
Azriel is fully enthralled by you - never ever has he seen such a beauty before, you are breathtaking and stunning. He doesn’t know why he is feeling so strongly, why the sight of you made his heart skip one or the other beat and why there is a sudden pull, a tug on his chest and then it hits him like slap.
Might this…could this be the bond? Could you be his mate. It would explain why one look at you was enough to pull out the rug from under his feet.
You work for hours, discussion everything that is noted about the old Death Gods. Azriel is unfocused and he knows it. He wants to fight against it but he can't — like some force is restricting him from it. Like it only wants to make him focus on you. 
He doesn't even fully notice when the discussion comes to an end, not even registering what the outcome exactly is. 
"Don’t you trust my strength that I can carry all those books and papers back alone, High Lord?" you ask with a hint of teasing in your voice. Your eyes sparkle while they hold Helion's gaze.
Helion chuckles lowly in answer, smirking. "I absolutely believe in your strength, but I am also a gentleman and wish that someone helps you with the books, so—"
"I can help." At least six pairs of surprised and wide-open eyes dart to Azriel. He slowly gets up, right now not minding the attention he normally hate so much. "I will help you with the , if I may."
Lips that have formerly parted due to your astonishment, form a smile - bright and happy. "You absolutely may, I appreciate it a lot."
You are strong enough to carry the books alone, you most definitely are. But, you have this absolutely breathtaking male offering his help, you would be a fool to say no. Maybe you can get to know him a little better, maybe you will talk on your way to the Grand Library - whatever it will be, you will spend time with him and that makes you feel happy, and excited.
So, Azriel gets up and walks to you, picking up some books (the heavier ones, leaving the lighter ones for you). Everyone is watching you, surprised about the scene unfolding itself in front of them, but before it gets to uncomfortable, Cassian manages to pull everyone into a conversation, wanting to help his best friend out. 
Azriel is thankful, yet does not let it show, his sole focus on you. He nods his head at you when he has a tight grip on all the large books, signalling you he is ready to leave, and you should lead the way. 
Once you are out of the door, out of earshot, Azriel exhales loudly and finally opens his mouth. "I‘m Azriel," the shadowsinger introduces himself, voice quivering the slightest bit, his palms so clammy all of a sudden, he would love to wipe them down his trousers weren't he holding the many books. 
You turn your head and grin at him. A soft chuckle escapes you, "I know, Helion introduced you earlier." 
Colour starts to bloom high on his defined cheeks, embarrassment passing over his features, so you quickly add, "But I am very pleased to meet you personally. It’s my pleasure, Azriel. I am Y/N."
"Such a beautiful name," he whispers. Perfect for such a beautiful female, he wants to add, but doesn't do. Not yet. That would not be appropriate. He barely knows you after all. 
"So you are head scholar?" Azriel asks when you set out down a long pathway, at the end a large towering building and Azriel guesses it is the Grand Library. 
"Exactly. But I am not the only one. The High Lord has a Head Scholar in every library of his court." You explain a little more while you walk over to the big library, adding some random details that you love to share and he loves to hear. Azriel is interested in the information you share with him and that warms your heart - no one has ever truly cared about those things. 
From time to time, you find him marvelling at our surroundings, the large sunflower fields or the Pegasi that trot by, neighing and bowing their heads. 
You set out for the last part of the path, pebbles crunching beneath your feet, creating a soft melody in the same rhythm as the beating of your hearts. You tell him that High Lord Helion himself helped build this Library, and it took them over a century to finish it. 
Azriel gasps when he takes in the whole expanse of  the gigantic Library, crafted from marble and glass, reflecting the sunlight and towering over him - not in an intimidating way, more in an impressive way.
"Welcome to the Grand Library, you tell Azriel upon entering, smiling him and his astonished face.
"Stunning," he breathes, his gaze brushing you. He is only partly talking about the Library.
"Where to?" Azriel asks and you look around, unsure. You wish he could help you put all the books away, but you don’t want to keep him here for too long. 
"Just on my desk, if you please." You smile and tilt you chin into the direction of said desk. Azriel bows his head and follows without a word, shadows swirling around him, almost like they are dancing to a melody.
"The shadows. What are—?"
"I’m shadowsinger." He turns his head to you, a lopsided smile on his lips.
"Ah," you answer. "And what exactly does a shadowsinger do?"
He somehow looks happy over this question, happy to explain it to you. You listen in awe, his shadows skittering down his arms and reaching out to you, almost like they want to brush over your skin. Or pull you closer. To their owner. To—
"I think I should leave now." Azriel clears his throat and scratches the back of his neck. He doesn’t want to leave. Not yet. But he has too. First of all, they need to return to the Night Court and secondly, his heart is beating so rapidly and he has been looking at you for so long he doesn’t know how long he can survive without his knees giving him. 
You have changed something inside of him and he needs space and time to makes sense of it. He needs some solitude to order his thoughts.
"That’s alright," you say, a pang of sadness sparking in your chest. You want to spend more time with him, get to know him better, but your knees feel wobbly only when his gaze brushes you. You don't know what it is, but your are not dumb and suspect a larger force behind the emotions boiling inside of you. Could this be the Mother's doing. Could you and Azriel be connected through more than just attraction?
The shadowsinger starts to back away, slowly, hesitatingly walking toward the large entrance door, wings tucked in behind his broad back. 
"Thank you for offering your help with the books," you call after him. You meet his gaze. 
Azriel bows his head. "Any time you need me, I am here for you."
Cheeks turning rosy, and your heart skipping a beat, you place the parchments on the desk in front of you. You draw in a deep inhale, warmth spreading from your chest throughout your whole body.
Azriel is almost out the door, his footsteps hollowing through the large, empty library.
"Azriel."
You bite down on your lower lip. He halts on the threshold, one scarred hand braced on the door frame. It seems like his posture straightens and the shadows on his shoulders halt in their swirling, waiting for what you are about to ask. 
"Yes." He turns to you, a smile on his lips, hope etched upon his features.
"Will I see you again?" Tension leaves your body the moment you voice your question and see his expression.
Azriel seems surprised about this question, even his shadows have stilled, no longer swirling around him. "Do you want to see me again?"
You grin and brace your hands on your hips. "I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to." 
He smiles, yet doesn’t answer immediately.
"I would love to see you again," he eventually says, voice tinged with a rarely-there happiness. "Maybe we can work together again any time soon? There is still a lot to find out." He tilts his chin at said book, the one he carried back here.
Your heart flutters and so does Azriel‘s, heartbeat increasing, chest swelling with an emotion he has never felt before.
"I think that is a great idea."
He meets your gaze, eyes locking, the promise of seeing each other strong and steadfast between your hearts. "See you soon, Y/N." 
You smile politely. "See you soon, Azriel."
His name on your lips - nothing has ever sounded more beautiful in Azriel’s ears and he can’t avoid the grin, reaching from one ear to the other. An expression hardly anyone has ever seen on his face. With a fluttering heart, he lets door fall close behind him, exhaling loudly. 
He can’t quite say what has happened and why it hit him so hard when he barely knows you, but he is falling - heavily, deeply. Madly.
Will I see you again? 
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
"I would like to show you something, my favourite place. Then we can continue with the book. But right now, we deserve a break."
You are hopeful, really wanting to spend time with him alone. You and Azriel, joined by other scholars, have been dealing with several books surrounding the topic of Death Gods for hours, your necks and backs aching already. 
"Are we allowed a break?" Azriel asks, raising his brow. He wants to say yes so desperately, but times is pressing and you need answers soon.
"Yes, because working too hard for too long without a moment of rest is not beneficial for making progress." 
You have a point, Azriel decides. He closes his book and with a contented sigh leans back in his chair. "What do you want to show me?"
"A special place here in the Day Court. It’s not far from here, we can return shortly." 
You step from one foot to the other, impatiently, because you really want to show him your favourite place. You know he will like it.
Azriel’s heart is beating a little faster when he gets up, surrounding the desk he was sitzing behind, spending hours being bent over paperwork. You want to show him something?
He is only a political guest so you showing him part of your court feels like a huge honour.
Heading towards the large marble doors, Azriel follows, his breath catching when his eyes follow the sway of your hips, how gracefully you glide over the ground. He has to shake his head, the tug on his chest so strong he worries his heart might rip right through his rib cage.
And he isn’t the only one feeling it. You need a moment, closing your eyes, his closeness doing something to your body. To your heart. And you very soul.
You close the door, waiting for Azriel to step away, to move, but he stays, his eyes running over you. They drop to your hand and then meet your own. He seems to hold his breath for a small moment, then inhales deeply, eyes still locked with yours, and parts his lips. "Can I hold your hand?"
You know that primarily he poses his question because of his scars. Maybe he has been rejected in the past, or he is genuinely worried you may feel disgusted? 
But there is no reason for it, you like his hands - they are big and unique. And you don’t care about the scars, not in the way he thinks. If someone caused him the scars, if someone hurt him, you care because you want to make them pay - severely. With their death. 
"You never have to ask for something like that," you say, voice tinged with empathy.
You extend your hand, grasping his gently, fingers easily sliding between his, intertwining them. "Your hands are so big," you tell him with a grin and it even draws a small smile to the shadowsinger‘s face. A beautiful smile, eyes glowing like you have never seen them before. "And our hands fit perfectly."
Azriel assesses your intertwined hands and with a sigh and the deep rise and fall of his chest, he eventually says, "They do. Like they were made for each other."
Your cheeks turn rosy, and you search his gaze. "Maybe they were," you whisper, voice tinged with a sheepish tone. Slowly you set out, one step after the other and Azriel follows, both silent. Both of you are too stunned by sensation sparking between your palms to speak - it feels like heat and tingles erupt, almost like lightning zips between your bodies.
You walk up a small pathway behind the Grand Library, through a canopy of large, towering trees, light dancing on every single leaf, and filtering through the branches. Your gaze moves over your surroundings, sometimes touching Azriel. He seems amazed, and to be liking what is presented to him which makes you happy.
You give his hand a gentle squeeze, just a small gesture but it makes his heart flutter, and a smile appear on his lips. Birds song in the distance, accompanying the rustling of leaves and the crunch of pebbles beneath your shoes. You inhale deeply when you come to a halt.
You are atop a small hill, overlooking most of the city below, and Helion‘s palace in the midst of it. Large fields of sunflowers stretch in front of you, Pegasi trotting on the paths in between.
"I think it is my favourite place. Here in the Day Court I mean." You turn your head to the side, already finding Azriel looking at you. His eyes shimmer with an emotion you can’t quite place - is it love? Admiration? Anticipation?
You smile at him, and he mirrors your expression. "I can see why." His deep voice is barely above a whisper, caressing your skin like feather. "It is beautiful." He pauses, but his lips part again, like he wants to continue. Azriel’s eyes run over your face, scanning every small detail, memorising it.
"Just like you," he finally whispers, and now you can see love sparkling vividly in his eyes. He lifts his hand, fingers halting mere inches from your face, "May I?"
You dip your chin and in a featherlight caress, the shadowsinger brushes a few stray strands of hair out of your face and tucks them behind your pointed ear. "I’ve never seen beauty like yours before, Y/N,“ Azriel says, his tone sincere. "And before you try to object, it is the truth." The corners of his lip quirk upwards and he smiles down at you. "You are a bright ray of sunshine, and with your smile alone you could light up the darkest night. Your beauty rivals that of the sun herself."
That has strung a cord in your heart and you feel how tears brim your eyes, the back of your mouth starting to ache. You don’t want to cry. Not right now, but the compliment was just too beautiful - no one has ever said something like that to you. 
"How fortunate that I thought the same about you when I first saw you - that you are the most beautiful male I‘ve ever seen," you whisper, voice a little hoarse. You lift your hand, resting it atop his, your soft palm touching his scars. 
"One day you will tell me the story of how you got those?"
"I will," Azriel whispers, a tang of gloominess filling his voice.
"But for now, I want you to know that they do nothing to diminish your beauty, or your worth. You are beautiful and perfect the way you are. Scars or no scars, you are the most beautiful male I have ever laid eyes upon."
Bouncing up on your toes, you bring your lips closer to his, almost kissing him. "You asked me if you could hold my hand, now I am asking you if I can kiss you." Your soft breath tingles his lips and a low, amused chuckle leaves Azriel. "Please," he breathes, eyes fluttering shut. You connect your lips with his.
It is a delicate kiss, lips moving in a graceful dance of tenderness and longing. 
The sun's warmth brushes your skin, intensifying the sensation, as if the Mother herself looks down on you, happy about this union. Time seems to slow around you, everything but Azriel and the feel of his lips against yours, fading into insignificance.
Azriel’s thumb gentle caresses your cheek, his tongue hesitantly gliding over your lip, asking for entrance which you grant him. The first stroke of his tongue against yours, elicits a gasp from you and you have to smile, pulling back from the kiss.
"That was—"
"I think we are mates!" The words just pour out of his mouth and he can’t stop them before they are already there, hanging in the air between you. He has lost control, his soul won the upper hand, and he couldn't stop his mouth from revealing the bond. 
Everything stops, even your heart and breathing. Your mouth is agape with surprise, and slight shock about this sudden and unexpected revelation. Yes, you have felt this tug on your chest as well, but…
It still surprises you to learn about him feeling the same. So, it is truly the bond. Air gets caught in your throat and your heart hammers against your rib cage.
"I…I—"
"I am sorry," Azriel admits and shakes his head, "I shouldn’t have said anything."
He wants to step away, but you don’t let him.
"Don‘t be." You smile up at him. "I was just…the bond is a huge thing, and I…you just surprised me, maybe even overwhelmed me with your revelation. It was so out of the blue." You step into him, arms slinging around his torso. He has gone stiff and you want some of the former light to return to his eyes. "I probably need a moment to order my thoughts and realise what it all means, but I am happy it is you. I’ve been feeling a pull towards you as well, Azriel, and it all makes sense now." You press a soft kiss to his pectoral.
His arms curl tighter around you, holding you against him, marvelling at the feeling of your bodies melding. Not only your hands are made for one another, but also your bodies. You are equals, one half of the same coin. 
"You don't mind it is me?" he asks of a moment and you can feel the sad thrumming of his heart through his chest. You tip your head back, trying to meet his gaze but his eyes are focused on an undefined point in the distance. "No," you say, voice soft, "I could never be disappointed about that." 
He finally lowers his gaze, eyes brushing yours. You smile and continue, "It might take us some time to figure everything out, to really get to know one another. To learn everything about the other person."
He bows his head. His shadows caress your upper arms, your face. 
"I don't want to rush anything. I want to give us time to get to know the other. I don't want to give the bond the upper hand and make us forget about the simple things of falling in love."
"I don't want that either. I want to learn everything about you, Y/N, before we accept the bond." His lips brush your forehead. "But I already call myself the luckiest male in all of Prythian."
A grin appears on his lips, so bright, that now he is the one whose beauty rivals the sun. 
The shadowsinger's chest heaves with a deep inhale, his chest brushing against yours, hearts beating in the same rhythm.
"I guess, Day and Night have at last found each other." You quip, nuzzling your face into his solid chest, his warmth so soothing to your soul, his scent bewitching your senses.
A bemused chuckle leaves Azriel as he tips your head back and gazes into your eyes, but soon the happiness fades from his face, a hint of worry and coldness reaching you through the bond.
"There is a chance for our love? Our bond?" Azriel‘s forehead lies in furrows, his chest aching fiercely all of a sudden. He hasn't considered this before, but you are from two different places of Prythian.
His throat works on a swallow before he continues. "We are from two different courts. Day and Night. We are—"
"Mates! Our souls belong together. So do our hearts. And when two souls belong together, there is always a chance for love."
You nip at his lower lip. "We will figure out a way to make it work, but we will stay together. We will be a couple. Our mating bond is stronger than the border of our courts!"
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
A loud chuckle parts your lips, your head tipped backwards, Azriel’s broad hand splayed out on your lower belly, fingers relentlessly tickling and teasing you.
"I love you, have I told you that already today?"
"Not yet, I think" you quip, giggling into his biceps.
Azriel leans in quickly, lips on your neck. "I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you." Azriel’s hot breath fans your skin and leaves goosebumps in its wake. "More than my own life, more than anything in this world." He nips at your skin. "My mate."
"I love the sound of it," you whispers, fingers stroking through his silken strands. "I love that I can call myself yours. And that I call you mine." You grin, even though he can’t see it, face still buried in the crook of your neck.
"I love being called yours, my sunshine."
Azriel‘s hand slides over the curve of your ass, squeezing gently and then he lets himself fall back onto the mattress, pulling you with him, your head resting atop his chest. He has arrived and his heart sings happily within his chest. 
The sun burned Icarus. Made him fall.
But Azriel is not afraid to get burned again. He is safe with you. Always. You won't burn him. And he won’t fall. Not in the literal sense of the word.
In love, though? He has fallen massively, deeply. He loves you with every part of his body, truly and fully. 
You are his mate. His equal. His home.
~~~~~~ tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii@nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @callmeblaire
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thetriumphantpanda · 9 months
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illicit affairs | joel & tommy miller
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Summary | Two attempts are always better than one, right? If you're serious about getting pregnant then you can't just hope that Joel can manage to do it by trying once every month. It might be wrong, but seeing him camped out on the couch gives you the perfect excuse to try one more time this month, without distractions.
Warnings | Joel Miller being a fucking stud as always, breeding kink, size kink, dubious moral choices by both reader and Joel, Tommy getting cucked (as usual), dirty talk, unprotected PiV sex,
Word Count | 2.7k
Authors Note | Well..... this certainly isn't how I anticipated this series going, but it makes sense, right? Can't just fuck once a month and expect to make a baby. I am absolutely feral for how much you guys are enjoying this series that wasn't meant to be a series and I hope you continue to do so in the future. And also, don't worry, Tommy is back next time in full force, I promise! If you've not read parts one and two, you can find them linked below on the series masterlist - this probably won't make much sense otherwise.
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
When Joel wakes the next morning, crick in his neck and lower back screaming at him for a night scrunched up on his brother’s couch, it’s the smell of bacon and the sizzling sound of something cooking in oil that hits him first. He pushes himself up slowly, running a hand over his face before his eyes search for the wall clock. It’s just after seven, he doesn’t have to pick Sarah up for another few hours. 
The next thing that strikes him is your voice. It’s quiet, like you’re trying not to wake him up, but you’re singing, or rather humming along to some song on the radio. He doesn’t know what it is, doesn’t care to find out, he just sits and listens for a while, letting the sweet sound almost lull him back to sleep. 
When Joel hears the clatter of plates being moved around, he stands, stretching out his back until it cracks in several places. God, he’s getting old. He slowly and softly makes his way to the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe as he watches you. You’re moving scrambled eggs around in the pan on the hob, two plates on the side that already have slices of bacon on them, and he can see slices of bread sat in the toaster waiting to be made. It’s domestic and he realizes he really shouldn’t like seeing it as much as he does. He shouldn’t be here, this should be his brother, but he doesn’t exactly hate it. 
“You didn’t have t’make me breakfast.” He speaks, you don’t jump which makes him think you knew he was there all along. 
“You didn’t have to sleep on the couch all night,” You counter, looking at him over your shoulder, “I guess we wore each other out, only right I send you off with a hearty breakfast.” 
Joel doesn’t really know what he’s doing when he walks deeper into the kitchen. He’s driven by the fact that all you’re wearing is a large flannel shirt, obviously not one of your own, buttoned up over some underwear. You’re fucking magnetic to him, he knows you shouldn’t be, should be as far out of his reach as possible, but he’s only doing you a favour right? The more he repeats it to himself, the more he might believe it. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” You speak as his hands play with them hem of the shirt, although your voice is teasing, it doesn’t warn him to stop, almost dares him to go further. 
Joel hears you chuckle as his hands palm your ass, “You gonna tell me to stop, pretty girl?” 
“You’re trying to get me pregnant, are you not?” You ask, shifting the pan with the eggs off the heat. 
“That I am,” Joel is now pressed firmly against your back, hands wandering underneath the shirt to rest on your hips, “But you gotta tell me if you want me to stop, just me and you this mornin’, sweetheart.” 
“I’m still good to go,” You murmur, moving your ass into him, feeling his already growing erection in his jeans, “So, give me what I want, stud.” 
He doesn’t need telling twice. Never does. He lets his big palm sink beneath the waistband of your underwear, fingers dipping almost immediately through your folds to sink down to where you’re already soaked. He knows some of that has to be him from last night, but as he drags his fingers up, covered in slick to your clit, hearing how you’re already moaning his name, he knows it’s not all him, this is your slick, mixed with him, and it drives him wild. Drives him wild that he’s marked you like this, that you’re just walking around with a piece of him inside of you. 
He's almost shocked by how quickly he brings you to the edge with his fingers this morning. Clearly, you’re still sensitive from the four orgasms he gave you the night before, something that still makes his chest puff, his male ego boosted that he went one better than Tommy for you. 
“Still all sensitive for me, aren’t you, pretty girl?” He leans down to whisper into your ear as his name falls a mile a minute from your mouth, “Gonna come for me?” 
“Fuck – Joel – ohmygod,” He can feel your legs starting to shake, he makes sure the arm he’s got pressed to your lower belly keeps you upright, pressed against him, “Don’t you dare stop.” 
“Didn’t plan on it.” He chuckles, letting his tongue lick hot stripes to you ear before he sucks the lobe into his mouth and nibbles. 
He feels your legs buckle, but that palm manages to keep you upright as you come for him. The way his name sounds in your high-pitched squeal when you let go for him has his cock throbbing in his jeans. If he was any younger, he could almost guarantee this alone would have him spilling himself into his jeans already. 
He lets you catch your breath for a moment as he undoes his jeans, stepping out of them and his underwear, though he leaves his shirt on. He has to be inside you right now or he thinks he might pass out. He drags your own underwear down your legs, kicking them to the side once you’ve stepped out of them, before he’s literally slamming his cock into you with full force. 
“Jesus Christ, Joel,” You keen, “Fuck, you’re so big inside me.” 
“I know babygirl, I know,” He stills for a moment, letting himself get used to the way your pussy is clenching him, literally pulling him in deeper, “A lot, ain’t it?” 
You let out a sigh as Joel pulls himself out before slamming back into you, “I can take it,” You whine, pushing back to meet his thrusts halfway, “Fuck me harder, Joel.” 
He brings a hand up to fist your hair, pulling your head back so you’re arching into him, “Careful what you wish for,” He moans, “Beggin’ me to go harder, filthy girl.” 
Joel can’t quite believe how good this feels. He thought, when he slid his cock into you from behind that he might feel guilty – bending his brother’s girlfriend over the stove without him knowing anything about it – but the way he’s got his hand tangled in your hair, pulling you back so you arch perfectly for him, his hips snapping into your ass in a way that has his vision blurring, he can’t find it in himself to care. Maybe that makes him a piece of shit, but you asked for this just as much as he wanted to give it to you. 
He uses the hand tight in the strands of your hair to pull your face to the side. He presses a wet kiss to your cheek before he can’t stop himself from asking for it any longer, “Kiss me, pretty girl,” He growls, pulling your mouth to within a hair’s breadth of his own, “Give me that last piece of you, I know you want to.” 
He can see you hesitate. Can sense the flicker of doubt across your face. He won’t force this, but fucking hell does he want it. Wants to feel those pretty lips on his own, wants to know exactly what your mouth tastes like. He grips your hip with his free hand, fingers digging into the skin, sure enough likely to leave bruises there, as he continues his pounding into you. 
All of a sudden, you turn your head fully, your own free hand coming up to tangle in the curls on his head pulling his mouth to yours. The angle makes it messy, more of an open-mouthed mash up of tongues that anything else, but it fucking lights Joel on fire. He pulls away and slips his cock from your tight heat, turning you around so your back is to the stove. He pulls your naked body to his own and attaches his mouth back to yours like his life depended on it. 
He can feel his cock slipping between your slick folds as he focuses his attention on his mouth attached to yours. It’s depraved, the way his tongue melds with your own, licking into your mouth like he’s a man starved. Which he technically is, he can’t remember the last time he kissed a woman, let alone one as perfect as you. 
When he pulls away from you, hands on your ass to lift you up so he can carry you to the kitchen island and sit you on top, he focuses on the string of saliva that attaches your mouth to his. He pulls away just enough that it breaks, settling on the hair on his chin. He almost busts his nut all over your lower belly when you lean across and lick it from his face, grin plastered on your mouth like you know exactly what you’ve just done to him. 
You reach down between the two of you, gripping Joel’s cock in your hand, guiding it back to your spread cunt, “I think you better put this back inside me, huh?” You whisper, looking up at him through your eyelashes, “Think you might be about to come, am I right Joel?” 
“Fuckin’ hell,” He curses, head to the ceiling, “Gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, pretty girl,” He takes his cock from your grip, sliding it slowly back into your slick pussy, watching as you throw your head back in pleasure as he does, “How many babies you want?” He asks, royally pushing his fucking luck now, “Tell me you want more than one, tell me I get to come inside your pretty pussy forever.” 
“You’ll have to ask your brother.” You and your smart fucking mouth, Joel thinks, looking down between the two of you where he’s splitting you open, watching as his thick cock slides effortlessly into your cunt, like you were made for him. 
“Didn’t have to ask him this morning,” Joel growls at you, hand resting at the base of your throat, “This was all you, babygirl.” 
He doesn’t think before he takes hold of the material of the shirt you’re wearing and yanks it open, buttons flying all over the kitchen surface. Joel lets it gape open, those big hands of his gripping the soft skin of your waist as he starts pounding into you again. He leans down and captures one of your nipples in his mouth, rolling it between his teeth, soothing it with the pad of his tongue, before he switches to the other side. 
“Such pretty tits, baby,” He groans, moving his lips up to kiss across your neck, “Even prettier when I put this baby inside you.” 
His cock is brutal inside you. He can see the start of the discomfort on your face, still sore and stretched from last night. Truth be told, he doesn’t think he can hold on much longer, not when he looks down at the sight of you, spread out, dripping slick onto the countertop, legs spread as far as humanely possible, tits bouncing with every hard punch of his cock inside you. 
“Want me to fill you up, babygirl?” He asks, leaning down to capture your lips one last time, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get you alone again, he knows kissing you in front of his brother would probably get him shot, so he’s going to take it all whilst he can. 
“Give it to me Joel, fuck,” You moan, hands gripping his shoulders to keep you upright, “Look at me whilst you do it,” You demands, “I wanna see your eyes when you pump me full of cum.” 
You’re looking up at him, bottom lip bitten between teeth as he stuffs his cock into you twice, three times. He looks you dead in the eye as he lets your name drop from his lips, hand gripping so hard at your skin it’s painful. He does exactly what you say though, looks straight into your eyes as his cock fills your full of his cum. Dark and dangerous, like predator has caught its pray, spread it out underneath him and fully devoured it. 
He lets out the softest of groans as he slips his cock from you, watching as his cum drips from your pussy. It’s depraved, but he takes two of his fingers and pushes as much of it as possible back inside you, curling his fingers up inside you, before he slips them out, covered in his own cum and the slick from your pussy.
He holds them up to your mouth, “You wanna taste, pretty girl?” 
Joel swears he sees the devil when you take hold of his hand and drag that perfect little tongue over his fingers. He thinks he might feel his cock begin to harden again when you take them all the way into your mouth and swirl your tongue over them to get them clean, he’s only a man, he can’t help but imagine what that mouth might feel like wrapped around his cock. 
He helps you down from the counter, passes you the underwear he discarded early and then slips out of his own plaid shirt, offering it to you for ruining the one you were currently wearing. You could very easily wander up the stairs and get another shirt, but you take it from him, wrap it around yourself and do up the buttons. 
“Sit down,” You speak softly to him once he’s got his jeans on properly, “I’ll finish breakfast.” 
Joel watches closely as you pour coffee and reheat the eggs slightly, piling a significantly bigger portion onto his plate than your own. You butter the toast and then sit down next to him, eating in silence. He expects it to be awkward, but it’s the complete opposite. It’s comfortable, warm even, just two people enjoying breakfast together before they must go back to their respective lives outside of each other. 
When you’ve both finishes, you take the plates and stack the in the sink before Joel realizes he’s still got to pick Sarah up. You smile at him when he stands, going to unbutton his shirt to give it back to him when he puts a warm hand on your arm.
“Keep it,” He says softly, “Looks miles better on you than it does on me.” 
Your head dips and then you smile, “Thank you.” 
He doesn’t really know what you’re thanking him for – the shirt? Probably not. But he smiles and kisses your cheek all the same before he’s making sure he’s got his keys and then he’s leaving. 
All Joel can think about on his drive to pick Sarah up is the massive fucking line he’s just crossed. He can paint it in whatever light he wants to – normal couples fuck all the time, at every possible moment, when they’re trying to have a baby, so why should this be any different? That’s all it was, is what he repeats to himself, all fucking day, thinking of the way you begged him to fill you up again, the way your lips felt against his when you finally gave in and kissed him. But there’s still that fucking niggling feeling that he’s fucked it all up, mixed his own feelings in somewhere along the line. He should have never been with you without the knowing stare of his brother, looking out for any signs of concern. 
If only Joel knew that Tommy knew exactly what was happening that morning. If only he knew that you’d padded quietly down the stairs and found him soundly asleep on that couch, first instinct to reach for your phone and sent Tommy that text message. 
Joel seemed to stay the night on the couch. I know you’ll be driving, so totally get if not, but mind if we try again this morning? Might have a bit more luck relying on two instead of one this month. 
You’d waited just moments for Tommy’s reply, standing at the foot of the stairs, watching Joel’s chest rise and fall in his sleep. 
Course not sugar, you can tell me all about it when I get in and get you all to myself. 
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janovavalen · 3 months
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✧THINK NONE OF HER || percy jackson x fem!reader
part one!
part two!
part three!
summary: percy jackson’s first days on camp were hell to say the least—fist day and he got bullied, but when he sneaks away to be alone he finds an interesting girl in the forest.
word count: 3216
warnings: small curses (literally like one word and it’s not really a curse but it’s considered one) reader is daughter of athena, sister of annabeth, horrid flirting, reader lowkey not felling percy for the first half’s of this story line.
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early morning percy laid down in a bed with his head cuddled into the pillow comforter and the blanket stuffed and twisted around his body to collect warmth and comfort from the slightly cold wooden cabin he recently moved into.
seeing small flashes of the night his mother was taken from his sight and out of his life for the first time—he jumped up with the faint song of the rawr from the monster that took her. his eyebrows frowned slightly while his wide worried blue eyes blinked to adjust to the darkness around him.
the small reflections of the water ripples providing him enough light to adjust to. sighing as he felt the sweat cling to his forehead and back he exhaled deeply before placing his hands on his face to sigh into them.
once he placed his hands down he looked to the side as he saw it was still the middle of the night, the only light outside being the small fires that were set at the entrances of each cabin. everyone in their own respective houses, sleep and resting—except for percy of course, why not.
seeing he obviously couldn’t sleep at the moment from the nightmare he just had he decided to try and take a small walk—without getting caught that is. if he were, he’d be in trouble by luke or another camp member. even if it weren’t them, someone would probably snitch.
sighing as he stood up from his bed and made his way over to his black and white converse shoes, he slipped them on before throwing on a jacket and zipping it up to protect him from the breezy air outside.
once he made it out, he looked around and saw the pure emptiness and quiet of the camp around him. the space was honestly cozy—when nobody was around to ruin the atmosphere with chaos.
walking along the gravel sidewalks that were dented into the walkways he followed them and soon went off track to the forest that glew with the light of the moon.
tightening his lips a bit he walked into the forest, looking around and taking in the peaceful and quiet space around him. thinking his a million thoughts that never surfaced to be talked about he found himself getting deeper into the forest without any mind.
mindlessly walking around and turning each tree to tree he found himself kicking rocks, picking up leaves to soon throw them, looking at lizards and birds. once he found a small white lizard laying down on the rock he smiled a bit and leaned down to pet it, smiling to himself at the smooth scales that ran down his body.
‘what are you doing awake, lil guy’ he asked, as if he could talk back.
as if it almost did—it gave a small blink, percy speaking once more—‘guess you couldn’t sleep either, huh?’ smiling more as he pet the small lizard, he finally thought of the morning that was soon to come and the training he had to do with luke in the morning.
‘well…i guess i’ve gotta go now, you sleep well, okay?’ giving it one last pet he got up and walked around to soon see nothing but trees, no recent path he walked on.
looking around as his heart starting to speed up a little he realized he was lost…in the middle of the camp forest…with a lizard—by himself. turing around to see the lizard looking at him he scoffed.
‘you wouldn’t happen to know the way back to camp right?’
‘yeah but i’m not helping you’ a voice spoke. gasping a little percy walked up to the lizard and leaned down to it, his knees in the dirt so he was face to face with the small white lizard
‘you can talk?’ he asked it—it gave him a blink before the voice spoke once more.
‘that’s not…turn around’ the voice said. percy turned slowly to see a girl with (h/c) hair and vibrant (e/c) eyes looking down at him, she pushed up a eyebrow a bit as she looked down at percy who scrabbled to his feet.
‘o—oh, that’s embarrassing—‘
‘it is…bye now’ she turned around and made her way out to the forest only for percy to swallow his worry and follow her, hoping she was leaving to camp as well.
‘wait! are you going to camp?’ he whispered shouted.
‘yes’
‘well can you help me? i got lost and i thought i was the only one out here so you kind of saved my life’
the mystery girl turned around and looked percy up and down to take in his blue dino pajama pants, black jacket and his converse. looking back up into his eyes she turned around without a word.
‘uh…was that a yes? or a no?’ he asked her as she walked ahead of him.
‘if you want to stay here with your best friend lizard who you think can speak, go ahead and stay’ she spoke. he took this as a hint and hurried to his side.
the quiet atmosphere around them was almost suffocating percy. he found himself looking at her every now and again as he noticed her straight face and straight forward eyes that focused on the path ahead.
cleaning his throat he began to speak—‘so, what are you doing out here?’ he asked.
met with silence.
‘oh cool me too…uhm—so—‘
‘please…shut up?’ she asked him, turning to his face to see she had almost an irritated and desperate look for silence. he quickly shut his mouth and let her continue walking.
he was utterly curious. what was she doing out here? maybe she couldn’t sleep? maybe she was offering and praying to her parents? maybe she’s coming back from a party—
looking up to see they were at camp now, percy blinked and looked at the mystery girl who didn’t pay him any mind.
‘thanks for walking me’ he mumbled while looking over at her. the dark forest light didn’t really give him help to see what she looked like, but now he was able to make out more of her face features and the warm yellow light of the fire around them helped define her face even more.
he felt a small skip in his heart but paid it no mind.
‘don’t mention it—‘ she mumbled while she walked back to her cabin.
‘no really i—‘
‘ever.’ she finished while giving him a single last look before making her way to her cabin.
watching her walk with pure curiosity he walked slowly to his with his head turned to see her walk into cabin six. she’s the daughter of athena.
of course, he could’ve caught on earlier when she made her small snarky remarks.
walking to his cabin and getting his shoes off to soon take his jacket off and put it back where it was, he shuffled over to his bed and fell into the comforter. groaning a bit he found his mind going back to the mystery girl.
with no primary reason, he wished or hoped he could find out her name sometime soon.
ㆍ୨୧ㆍ
as the sun blazed down the the small group in training, luke thrusted his sword towards percy who quickly dodged it and swung his own at luke, of course he ultimately failed and ended up getting pushed by luke causing percy to fall to the ground and let out a grunt.
going to get back up in a hurry he was met with the tip of luke’s sword pointing right at this throat.
‘i think i won this round’ luke joked as he walked percy shake his head slowly.
‘you think?’ percy remarked back making luke smile and lean out a hand to help him up from his spot on the grassy ground below him.
once he was up on his feet, percy rolled his shoulders as the small tense of it caused him to hiss in slight pain. luke noticed his and placed a gentle hand upon percy’s shoulder.
‘we can be done for now, after lunch we can pick up on arching and get back to sword training, you can take a break, you did good today’ percy smiled up at his friend like who smiled back.
percy wasn’t that good nor was he bad at all with swords and arrows. but when it came to being against luke in almost anything he was definitely top three of two, yeah, it was that bad.
sighing he walked his way through the people as they talked amongst themselves with the half brothers and sisters. percy looked around and gave small smiles to some people who would just look at him and turn back around to their original spots.
clearing his throat in awkwardness he saw his best friend grover walking mindlessly pass everyone to his own business.
‘grover!’ percy called out, grover turned around to see his own best friend and smiled with a wave.
percy jogged his way to grover who was waiting for him.
‘how’d training go?’
‘do i look like i won?’
‘mm…not really? but it’s the thought of winning that counts’
‘well here, if i’m not holding a head on a stick i’m still considered a loser’ percy remarked. grover gave him a small shrug and smile before they walked.
‘where are you going?’ percy asked.
‘to the arrows, annabeth needed me to get something for her so i’m just going to drip it off to her then im back on my own’ grover showing a small collecting bag of arrows that were painted (f/c).
he looked down at them with a small frown in his eyebrow as he recognized the color. it was the same color that the mystery girl wore last night. he would have paid this no mind, but he had been very confused as to why she didn’t leave his mind.
they didn’t even share many words.
walking to where grover had mentioned percy looked up and quickly grabbed grover’s back shirt to pull him behind a tree—‘wait!’
‘what!? oh my—‘
‘shh…she’ll see me, be quiet!’ percy whispered as he hid behind the tree.
‘who? who will see you?’ grover hurried with concern and confusion.
‘that girl—i was walking in the forest last night and she was there too, i don’t want her thinking I'm like some psycho crazy stalking guy who is trying to kill her or something!’ percy pressed his back against the rough bark of the tree before grover turned to look and saw his friends.
‘who annabeth?’
‘no no, the girl next to her’ he hushed, grover turned back to see it was y/n.
‘y/n? her?’
‘who’s y/n?’
‘apparently the girl you ran into last night’ grover shrugged as he watched percy turn around from the tree and look at y/n who smiled at annabeth who told a joke as she moved her arrow around its bow.
‘y/n…’ he whispered. looking at her more he felt his eyes focus primarily on her. her smile and light in her eyes that seemed nonexistent and unfamiliar to the girl he met last night who held darkness and a frown.
‘wait you said she was in the woods?’
‘yeah…i couldn’t sleep so i took a walk, got lost and met her, she led me back to camp’ percy told, his eyes still watching y/n who mindlessly did her things.
‘did you guys talk?’
‘if im hiding from her i think it's safe for you to assume we didn’t talk’
‘right, right…well, guess you can now, right?’ grover smiled as he pushed percy out from behind the tree.
percy turned to look at grover who shrugged with a innocent look on his face, percy giving a glare before he followed grover over to the group in training.
‘annabeth! y/n!’ he called out, the girl turned around in sync as they shared a small smile to grover.
‘hey g’ y/n smiled as she looked down at the bag of arrows,’you got them, thank you so much. i’ve been a mess without them’ she grabbed the bag and placed a small hand on grover’s arm as a thank you before she looked to see percy.
‘it’s you’ she looked him up and down before giving a tight lip smile.
‘it’s me’ he showed a bit of teeth in this awkward smile as she inhaled awkwardly and turned around. annabeth frowned and looked between the two as she scoffed.
‘uhm, why was that?’ she mumbled.
‘nothing—‘
‘percy here, met y/n in the forest and thinks she thinks he’s some psychopath stalker who wants to kill here’ grover smiled as he looked at percy who rolled his eyes
annabeth laughed at this while she shook her head—‘well to assure you she doesn’t think that, she didn’t think of you at all, she would’ve told me or grover’ annabeth walked away giving grover a smile before going back to y/n who positioned herself with her bow and arrow.
‘hm…doesn’t think of me at all, got it’ percy watcher at
y/n aimed and got the red center of her arrow that was previously there, cutting it with in half with her new arrow.
walking away with grover, he noticed percy looking back occasionally then back forward. with a grin on his face he shook his head before talking.
‘don’t think of her too much, she doesn't like it’ he told percy who turned to him with a frown in his eyebrows.
‘what? okay for one i’m not thinking of her, and two how would she know if someone was thinking of her’ he asked as they walked side by side.
grover looked to the side to percy and shrugged—‘i can’t tell you how she does it because i don’t know how she does either, she kind of just knows face expression and body language more than others so…when people are thinking of her and they make it obvious she gets upset. ask luke, he’ll know’ grover nodded over to luke who was standing off with his small friend group.
percy looked confusingly at grover who gave a pat on the shoulder and walked away to his own duties, percy having nothing to do until after dinner decided to just go walking around to pass the time.
ㆍ୨୧ㆍ
after dinner and later at night with people walking to their cabins to rest after their showers and hang outs, percy made his way to luke’s cabin.
once he arrived, he was glad to see luke hanging out by himself just sharpening his sword with the quietness of the room to keep him occupied.
‘hey’ percy called out to luke making him turn and greet him with a head nod—‘hey percy, things going well? how’s training?’ he asked as percy walked closer to then stand near his bedside.
‘things are well, just around i guess? you?’
‘same old, same old, showing new campers around, training. what brings you here too late? nobody picking on you right?’ he places his sword down next to him and looked over at percy who looked a bit nervous.
putting it aside and hoping he could just get to the chase he inhaled deeply and spoke—‘no, no, nothing like that it’s just…’ looking over at luke who confusingly looked at him back he understood the nervousness and stood up.
‘it’s okay, you can ask and tell me anything dude, don’t stress it’ he told him with a smile. percy looked at this and shook his head.
‘i’m not stressing it it’s just—i don’t know how to really bring it up?’
‘just say it’
‘well, okay—for one don’t get mad and like to snitch on me or something but i went out for a walk last night and went in the forest…when i was there i got lost and met a girl turns out her name is y/n…earlier trigger told me not to think about her or something? because she will know, then he said you know all about that? i was just—‘
‘you're wondering what he means?’
percy nodded his head and blinked—‘yeah…’
luke chuckled a bit before placing his hands on his hips.
‘she isn’t a bad person nor is she someone you should be scared of, but i will tell you grover is right, she doesn’t like it when people worry, or think or are curious of her because…’ luke looked side to side at the doorway and the wall before shaking his head.
‘i can’t really tell you…just know, you should probably do what grover says. and if your lucky you can spritz your charm on her and she’ll be your friend too’ luke smiled a bit at percy who shook his head and rolled his eyes.
‘no—im not spritzing anything on anyone, but…thanks for the talk, i’ll see you tomorrow’
‘yeah, tomorrow—get some rest percy’ luke gave a head nod at percy who gave one back as he made his leave.
what was so secretive about this girl? was she a wanted criminal before coming here? can she read minds? what if she can read his mind right now—
‘i can’t read minds percy’ a voice spoke behind him, making him turn around in a hurry and look at who said it. it was y/n.
gulping a bit he looked side to side before speaking—‘a person who can’t read minds would say they can’t read minds…’
she smiled a bit before shaking her head—‘reading minds is embarrassing…i would hate to know what everyone's thinking every second of the day. why are you asking about me?’ she asked. her hands were crossed in front of her body with a stern look on her face.
‘what—‘
‘i heard you and luke talking…you wanted to know something about me. ask me personally before asking others’ y/n stayed in her spot as percy blinked nervously. setting his pride aside, he looked her up and down before speaking.
‘what grover said…why do you not like it when people think or worry about you? i mean it’s not my place—‘
‘your right it’s not…i don’t know you and you don’t know me. let’s keep it that way. okay?’ she tilted her head a bit with more emphasis on her words. looking at percy in the eyes before he nodded and just gave up, she nodded her own head and walked away.
watching her walk to her cabin he felt himself walking to his own with an empty mind.
getting to his cabin and shutting the door behind him he got himself ready for bed. sighing under his breath he laid down in his warm bed that awaited him since he left it.
looking up at the ceiling with his mind unturned, he tired his hardest not to think of the mysterious y/n who shared no thought and no background other than the fact she didn’t like percy. that was very obvious.
it’s not like he cared. well…not really.
but he was genuinely confused about her. and when it came to things he was confused about. he needed to solve it to become more understanding and succeed.
so, he swore to himself from this day on he will lean more and understand more about the secretive y/n. daughter of athena.
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sykestarot · 6 months
Text
what attracts people to you?
1-2-3 (left to right)
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Hi guys I'm back for this weeks reading! Thanks so much for all the love on the other post it really means a lot! I hope these messages resonate as well. Thanks for stopping by yet again! :)
Pile 1
"Just wondering when you said I'm beautiful, was I being lied to?"
(2 of swords (rx); ace of cups; 5 of swords; 4 of swords (rx); queen of pentacles; 2 of cups (rx)) I’m feeling for you pile one that you don’t believe that you’re attractive at all, energetically or physically. Like people would always prefer someone else other than you. Quite literally how the song title is opposite, you believe people are only attracted to the types of people who are opposite of you. Which is so obviously not true because so many people are attracted to you. I don’t know if you think more people value stability over spontaneity. But your cards imply that you are a free spirit and people love that about you. Not only are you a free spirit but you also are hard working. You aren’t one of those people that says they're a free spirit as an excuse to do nothing. I’m feeling that you carry this abundant energy of like “I want it, I got it”. And people just want to stay in that energy. You also have a resilience that people see and it makes them admire you but also want to learn from you. Your energy is truly so beautiful. I see that you might have long hair with beautiful waves to it. Perhaps you’re tan or have a darker complexion. You’re the type of person who loves doing hikes and smelling the fresh air outside. I also see beaches and a boho style to you. Lots of whites and vibrant blues as well. Perhaps you’re Greek or some type of southern European. I see that you also have doe eyes and people find them to be mesmerizing. As well as your smile. I don't know why you don’t think you’re attractive because the vibes I'm getting are that you’re a stunner!! I hope one day you can learn to appreciate the qualities in yourself that others see!  Signs : Athens, Greece, kitties, pasta, the smell of pine orange and vanilla, woven hats, big sunglasses, kites, hang gliders?, laughs, melted ice cream, strawberry scents, lip gloss, glitter, flamingos, Sagittarius
Pile 2
"She's got a halo around her finger around you" (The world; 5 of swords (rx); the high priestess; knight of pentacles (rx); 9 of wands (rx); the hierophant) Pile two you are my pile that knows people are attracted to you and use it to your advantage. Which is so real of you but also so slay. And this is not to say that you use your beauty to gain things in a negative way. It’s more like you know the cards that you were dealt and you’d be damned if you didn't use them. I feel like this is my Scorpio pile. Something about you is mysterious and that entices people to want to get to know you better. I feel like you are like a real life siren. The way you speak or the tone of your voice ensares people and draws them right to you. You also have a fated energy or destiny really plays a role in your life. To the point where people want to be in your life because they think they might be able to get some of whatever you have. You might also be witchy and cast spells or work with guides to make things go your way in life. You co create with spirit for sure. I feel like you guys have a contrasting appearance, like pale skin dark hair, or darker skin and lighter hair. I feel like your eyes are piercing like they are hunting prey and people love feeling like they are hunted by you. I see you being very chiseled whether that’s in the body or the face. You have a striking appearance for sure. The kind that people do double takes on the street. You might get a lot of losers who want to talk to you because your energy and appearance are so intoxicating. I also feel like you’re overall just very bold. Perhaps Aries as well? I also feel like anything said in this reading you already know about yourself lol. Signs : Osprey; Seahawks (football); Megan Fox; vampires; red lisp; metal; silver; motorcycles; the twilight saga?; Jennifer’s Body; clubbing; latex; Washington State; black hair; blue eyes
Pile 3
"I know she's gonna break my heart"
(8 of cups; 7 of wands (rx); page of pentacles; the moon; the hanged man (rx); the lovers) You, my pile three, are the heartbreaker, soul stealer, sad girl pile. People are attracted to you because people want to fix you, not necessarily that you need to be fixed to be honest. It’s more in the sense that you don’t care about them more than you care about yourself. It’s like they want to teach how to love or be the one that changes you. Which to me is so funny because it’s not that you don’t know how to love it’s that you don’t love them lmfao. You don’t entertain many suitors or people in general and so when you do give people your energy it’s special. However with how selective you are it makes people want to know more about your inner world. But you come off so nonchalant that people want to get a reaction out of you. You have the potential to feed people’s hero/savior complex if you actually like them back. I also feel like your sense of style is alternative or goth and that’s also what brings people to you. I’m getting retired emo’s or lil peep/suicide boy fans. Perhaps your taste in music also attracts people. I feel like you’re social media and the way you present yourself really gets people wanting to know you more. You’re very mysterious but I'm getting in more of an Aquarius or Pisces way. I feel like you like having dramatic makeup on or you have a very out there style. I keep seeing, like cyber goth or emo. I’m not super well versed in those genres of style so I hope you get it lol. Maybe you have lip rings or eyebrow piercings. Anyways you’re very unique and that’s what attracts people to you. I also feel like you’re always doing cool and new stuff and people are attracted to you because you’re a trendsetter in a lot of ways. Maybe you have a following on a social media platform? Idk I feel like people watch you via the internet. Signs: anime; jjk; tik tok; silver metals; lip biting; rilakuma; pastel pinks; black; stripes; oversized sweaters; skirts and thigh highs; leg warmers; big chunky shoes; platform boots; johnny guilbert?; music holds importance here
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